A smile curves the corners of his mouth. “I don’t feel like that anymore. I know I’m not to blame. She was a drugged-up whore who tried to pimp me out to make a fast buck. I have long since abandoned the notion I’m responsible.”
I wonder if that’s the truth though. Alesso is far more put together than I am, but he’s still concealing broken pieces inside. On rare occasions, I catch glimpses of it. “How did you overcome it? Did you speak to someone?”
He shakes his head as he raises clenched fists. “I used these. I beat those johns bloody before I took off that day for good. Slept on the streets for a while until I realized I could make decent money fighting. I channeled all my aggression into my fights, and I quickly made a name for myself on the underground circuit. The payouts meant I could afford to get my own place, and I had regular food in my belly for a change.” He drags his lower lip between his teeth. “I guess I vented a lot of my emotions that way, but I still suffered with low self-esteem. After Ben found me and gave me a new purpose, I promised myself I was going to turn my life around.”
A faint blush blooms in his cheeks, and I’m so intrigued by this man. I cock my head to the side, watching him as I sip my wine.
“I took up meditation, and I started reading. Self-help and inspirational books and, uh”—he drags a hand across his stubbly jawline as the color on his cheeks darkens—“books on overcoming trauma.”
“It helped?” I inquire, wondering if I should try some of those methods.
“For me, it did, but the one thing I learned is everyone is different. Everyone needs to go at their own pace. Healing can’t be forced, and no one else can do the legwork for you.”
“You’re incredible. Looking at you now, no one would know you had a harrowing childhood.”
“If you look closely, the cracks are there, but I refuse to give that woman power over me anymore. I answer to one person and one person only—me.”
“Why did you kiss me back?” I blurt, and I’m blaming the alcohol for my brutal honesty tonight. “I thought at the time you didn’t know who Alfredo was, but you did, and yet you still did it and I don’t understand why you would take that risk, and…” My verbal diarrhea ends when I need to pause to draw a breath.
A gorgeous smile lights up his face, and I’m lured into his gaze, devouring him with my eyes because I’m incapable of looking anywhere else. “I told you already. I wanted to kiss you. Had wanted to for a while. I didn’t give a fuck about your prick husband. I wasn’t aware of all the facts, but I didn’t need to be to see he was an asshole who disrespected you.”
“Does Ben know?” I ask something I have often wondered. I didn’t tell a soul. Not even Sierra because I wouldn’t take risks with Alesso’s life like that, even if I was sorely tempted to tell her.
“No.” He huffs out a sigh. “Ben isn’t old school, but he still wouldn’t have approved. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that making out with another made man’s wife is akin to committing a mortal sin in our world. Even now, if anyone found out I kissed you while you were married, it would be frowned upon.”
“Yet you still did it.”
His grin expands. “And I’d do it again. A million times over.” Very slowly and with exaggerated moves, he reaches out to brush his thumb against my lip. A delicious shiver skates over my body as I feel his touch in every cell and molecule of my being. “You were worth the risk, Serena.” His eyes dart to my mouth, and I suck in a gasp as tentacles of desire spread throughout my limbs. His gaze latches on mine, and I see the same desire burning behind his retinas. “You willalwaysbe worth the risk.”
6
SERENA
Pain radiates up my arm, and I scream out in agony. Alfredo’s nails dig into my flesh as he drags me across the room, shooting indiscriminately while he attempts to make his escape. Gunfire flies in all directions, the noise piercing my skull, and I’m shaking all over. I’m terrified. Scared I won’t make it out of this ballroom alive. That thought keeps me from dissolving into tears and fuels my desire to survive. I thrash about, fighting to free myself, but it’s no use. My husband’s hold on me is too strong. He will never let go. He will never stop hurting me.
I bolt upright in the bed, gasping for air, my chest heaving painfully, as I struggle to take a breath. A multitude of emotions swirls inside me, like it does every night when I wake abruptly from my nightmare. They are not always the same. I have a concoction of horrific memories my subconscious draws inspiration from, but reliving the night of the shoot-out in the ballroom is my most recurring nightmare. And my most hated.
Sweat plasters my hair to my brow and my nightgown to my body. The raised marks on my back burn, almost as intensely as the night I received them. Bending forward, I arch my spine, attempting to alleviate the pain. They are a constant reminder of the man I loathed with every fiber of my being, and for as long as I live, every time I look at those scars in the mirror, I will see his evil grin as he stood over me, brandishing a blood-coated whip, his dark eyes smoldering with sick satisfaction.
Pulling my knees up to my chest, I wrap my arms around myself and quietly cry.
The door crashes open as Elisa races into my bedroom. Fear is etched upon her pretty little face, and I wipe my eyes, attempting to dry my tears. “Mommy! I heard you screaming!” She crawls up onto the bed, flinging her slim arms around me. Her entire body is shaking, and I’m instantly awash with remorse.
“I’m okay. It was just a bad dream.” I bundle her in my arms, running a soothing hand up and down her long, dark, wavy hair. She has her father’s thick, dark hair, but if you look closely, you can see reddish hints in the strands. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Sierra and Alesso are right. I need to talk to someone. I can’t keep doing this to my daughter. There have been too many occasions when she has run in here to console me and it’s so wrong. I need to get over my fear of talking about my past and make an appointment with one of the people on the list my sister compiled for me.
“Some nights, I wake thinking Papa is back,” she says in a small voice. “Your screams sound the same.” A full-body shudder rips through her as she looks up at me with troubled blue eyes. “I think I’m a bad person, Mom, because I don’t want him to come back. I don’t want him to ever come back and hurt you again.” Her eyes blaze with determination and compassion.
Pain slams into me on all sides, and tears well in my eyes. I have done such a shitty job of protecting my children from the horrors of the life I endured, and I feel like the ultimate failure. But this isn’t about me. This is about Elisa. Romeo too. I wish I could say he was unaware, but he has listened to his father constantly putting me down, and I don’t know what kind of sick shit Alfredo used to whisper in his ear. That bastard tried his best to drive all the softness from our son, spouting shit no child should have to hear. Especially one as young as Romeo. I know he’s confused, struggling to understand his feelings, and I hate that for him. I can only hope he will forget it in time. He’s not five yet, and it’s unlikely he will remember much about his father with the passing years.
Elisa is another matter entirely. She won’t forget. She is older and has seen and heard way too much. I won’t lie to her. I won’t attempt to sugarcoat the truth. I can only imagine what she must have felt hearing me scream and suffer at the hands of her father’s depravity. “He’s not coming back, sweetie. He won’t ever hurt me again.”
At least, not physically.
Emotionally, though? I bear more than just external scars, and it’s the internal ones that will take the longest time to heal.
“And you are not a bad person, Elisa.” I press a fierce kiss to her brow. “You are my beautiful, brave, kind warrior.” I hold her face in my hands, peering into her trusting eyes. “I know you want to protect me, but it’s my job to protect you. I promise I won’t let you down again.”
