“And I failed?”Matteo asks before I can do it.
Rafaelle shrugs.“You went on a carriage ride with her so that’s a plus.But we’re gonna take it slow.”
A whole new layer of pure, burning rage erupts between Matteo and me.I can’t believe he’s not exploding with it.And I can’t believe I still want him to take me anywhere, still want to be alone with him.I must be out of my mind.I must’ve entered some weird parallel universe when we met, one where right is wrong and wrong is right and nothing makes sense and everything does.The magnetic force thrumming between us is urging me to argue, to insist Matteo be the one to take me.But I’ve already said enough.
“Are your sisters coming too?”Rafaelle asks.
I shrug and open the apartment door again.“They might as well now.”
Then I enter the apartment and shut the door hastily.I can breathe easier now that I’m no longer standing in the vortex of darkness and magnetism that is the air around Matteo.But at the same time, I know I won’t be able to breathe normally again until I resolve this pull he has on me.One way or another.For better or worse.
Chapter18
MATTEO
After the sistersdecided they wanted to go to the beach too, I was told I must accompany them as well.Goldie’s whole face lit up when she realized I’d be coming on the beach trip too after all.She tried to hide it, tried to play it down and only glanced at me occasionally, but damn if I didn’tfeelher happiness.Not something I like.To feel in general.And especially not happiness.
It’s been so long since I felt my own, I figured I’ll just never be happy again and that’s fine by me.I don’t get to be happy when my whole family, apart from my sister who caused it all, are dead.But seeing it on another person is even worse.It burns like fire.Golden fire in the case of Goldie.I tried as hard as I dared to get out of the beach trip.
Now I’m standing here at a wooden railing on some vast Long Island beach, a respectable distance from the women, accompanied by men who neither like me nor trust me.It’s so much like being back in Dante’s employment that rage is eating away at my stomach, actually making me physically sick.
Sunlight really does wonders for Goldie though.I haven’t seen much of her in daylight, so I didn’t appreciate just how bright her skin can glow.I also didn’t appreciate just how smooth and perfect her curves are.All natural too.She’s tall for an Italian woman, her legs long and just perfectly curved, her hips wide and shapely, her ass like an apple I could get used to feeling in my hands, and her breasts full and perky with just the right amount of bounce.Add to that her pretty face, full lips, and big eyes and that skimpy golden bikini she’s wearing, and she’s pretty much the full package.
Why isn’t she married to some guy who’d kill me just for looking at her?She’s old enough.
It’s a question that’s been kicking around in my head for days now.When I’m not raging at my situation, that is.But I know better than to ask any of the guys here.They’d probably kill me just for asking, especially Rafaelle who seems extra protective of the daughters for some reason.He’s the kind of man who is wasted trailing after a bunch of women.Sharp, alert, a thousand percent loyal.But I won’t ask about that either.
What I need to be doing is figuring out a way out of this.I’m wasted here too.I’m wasting time here.
But the backdrop of the ocean, a sandy beach sparkling in the sun and a gorgeous woman to rest my eyes on… that’s never failed to calm my mind.Not even when I was with Dante.
Once upon a time, before everything started, and ended so miserably, I wanted to be a pro surfer.The beach and the ocean were alwaysmy place.I gave up surfing, but the ocean’s pull remained.I’d always go to the beach to calm down when all else failed and I seriously started to consider joining the rest of my family, and it always worked to renew my resolve to live and fight on, and ultimately avenge them.It’s sort of working again now.But this ocean isn’t nearly as peaceful or beautiful as the one I grew up beside and the mostly empty beach looks like it could belong in a scene from any serial killer movie.
But Goldie is beautiful enough to offset both those things.And much more beautiful than any girl I’ve ever seen on a California beach.
But that’s nothing I need to concern myself with.She’s just a pretty thing to look at while I’m bored out of my mind and seething with the kind of anger that even the calm ocean waves can’t alleviate.
Not that the waves here are calm.They’re angry as I am angry, frothing, the water dark green, almost black.The perfect backdrop to my rising anger.
And the golden beauty has decided she’s going for a swim despite all that.She’s walking slowly towards the water, the sun glinting off her golden bikini, each step she takes an explosion of shimmering color.The things I would do to her if she were mine to have… the things I want to do to her to show her how much she’s screwed me over… she wouldn’t like those things…
She’s brave going into those waves, I’ll give her that.Just walks right in, even though they look harsh and strong enough to knock her down.But she’s nothing if not headstrong and reckless, my Goldie.Someone really should teach her to behave.
And as all the ways I might do that unfold vividly in my mind one of the waves knocks her down.And the next takes her under.
Her scream is still echoing across the beach as I run towards the water.Her sisters are shrieking, the other guys are running too, but I’m the first to reach the waves.
The water is cold and seems to latch onto me as I run into it.There’s nothing like the pleasant warmth of the ocean back home here.The waves and undercurrent try to take me under too, but I’ve done too much swimming and surfing for any ocean to best me.I can’t see her in the dark water though, not until a wave beaks and something gold flickers to my left and is gone again in the next second.
I dive, and reach out, feeling my way, because I can’t see anything.
And just as I start to think I imagined seeing the gold, just as I start to fear she’d been pulled out by one of the sneaky waves, I touch her skin.Hot in the cold water.Softer than any pleasant thing I’ve ever felt.
She’s just dead weight as I pull her out of the waves’ clutches, hangs limply as I carry her to the shore.
Her sisters are crying.Rafaelle and the other guys are cursing, all of them looking like this is the first time they’ve seen a drowning victim.Good thing I’ve seen plenty and saved a few.I lay her down on the sand and feel for her pulse.It’s weak and she doesn’t seem to be breathing.
I massage her heart, willing the water to leave her lungs.My resuscitation efforts are all muscle memory until I press my lips against hers to offer her my breath.Then golden fireworks flash everywhere, painfully bright and I suddenly have no memory of anything that happened before this moment.
