He’s standing so close to me that my back is practically pressed against the door and his imposing, sun and shadow presence seems to be sucking up all the air in the empty hallway.
“I’d like to make it up to you,” my voice says on its own, with no input from my brain.But it is exactly what I want so it’s OK.
He somehow expands even closer without actually moving.
“Do you now?”His voice is at once menacing and the most inviting thing I’ve ever heard.
“Yes,” I whisper, my voice sultry because my throat is suddenly very dry.
His eyes light up for the first time since we started this conversation.It’s like when the sun breaks through thick, black cloud cover.Brilliant and dazzling, eternally beautiful and meant just for me.
“I’m sure we can find a way,” he says, menace and invitation once again playing tug of war in his voice.
“When?”I breathe.
He laughs, a sound that’s neither pleasant nor scary, but both those things combined.
“Soon.”
The smile that erupts on my face happens without my conscious control.“I hope so.”
“Just don’t tell anyone.”
I shake my head.“I won’t.”
I whisper it to show just how committed I am that this stays a secret between us.Whatever this is.A promise?A lie?The only thing I wanted to hear?It’s that third one, definitely.
A door opens somewhere down the hall, and he steps back from me, his face impassive, his eyes looking right through me.Footsteps are coming in our direction and I go back into the apartment before whoever it is reaches the bend in the hallway and sees us here together.
A secret it is.The most cherished secret I’ve ever kept.And I don’t even know what it is.I just hope it involves him kissing me again.For real this time.
He must have felt the blinding light of that kiss of life he gave me.He probably wants more too.And that’s what we just agreed on.To give each other more of that.Because it’s necessary and the only right thing to do.
Even though everyone else would say it’s wrong.
Chapter20
MATTEO
As if getting chainedup in service to her family wasn’t enough, now I can’t fucking get her out of my mind.I still can’t sleep, eat, or do anything much except seethe in anger at the cruel fate of it all, but now, when I do manage to sleep, I dream of her.
The softness of her lips.Her warm, velvety skin as I pulled her out of the cold water.The way life rushed into her, turning her pale skin gold, as I breathed life into her.The way she smiles and fidgets and talks in a fast, hurried voice when she speaks to me, playing with her hair, swaying in place, nervous.Excited.Innocent.Perfect for the taking.
I’m thinking more about her than I do about my family.About the revenge.Even about the ruin that rules my life.
And that’s not good.
I even as good as told her I want her the other day, figuring I’d at least get her if I can’t have my freedom.But that was an insane impulse, and I’ve managed not to act on it so far.But how long will the self-restraint work?If all I do is think of her?
I’ve been bitching and moaning to my cousin Nico so much that I think he’s ready to throw me out of his place.But I can’t stop.And he’s always there, always up.Doing lines and lines of coke and nodding along to everything I have to say.
Maybe that’s because I’m acting crazed and he doesn’t want to disagree with me.
Like right now.
I’m pacing around his living room, squeezing a tumbler of vodka so hard it’s a miracle it doesn’t shatter, my shirt buttons undone, my hair a mess and my eyes very bright and crazed.Every time I see my reflection in one of the huge windows, the deranged look on my face frightens even me.
I should shut up for a while.Try to find some calm.So I down the vodka and sit on the sofa, sliding the empty tumbler onto the glass coffee table, leaving a trail in the snow-like dusting of coke on it.
