I cringe and take a sip of water, swallowing the retort burning on my tongue.
"Saint tells me you're more cooperative, lately,” Antonio continues. "That’s good. It’s my hope that the two of you can form a healthy partnership.”
Cooperative? I nearly snort. Saint is a liar. I don't know why, but I like that knowledge. Despite everything, it makes me feel like I'm not completely alone in this. He doesn't want his uncle to know how badly we're doing.
"I'm doing my best."
"I know, and I appreciate it." He reaches across the table, pats my hand. Fatherly. Kind. It's a farce. "Just remember that this serves everyone. Your family, my family, you and Saint. When you have a child, everything will make sense."
I nod because what else can I do?
"Now, eat," he orders. "You're too thin."
I shove a spoonful of food into my mouth, wishing I could choke him.
After dinner, I return to the bedroom and wait.
Eleven o'clock comes and goes.
Eleven thirty.
Midnight.
At twelve fifteen, I hear his footsteps in the hall.
The door opens, and Saint walks in.
Covered in blood.
Not a little. Not a splash. Covered. His white shirt is soaked through, rusty red and black in places where it's dried. His hands are crimson. There's a spray pattern across his jaw.
I freeze, sitting on the edge of the bed in my nightgown.
He closes the door behind him, eyes finding mine.
"What—" My voice cracks, blinking as I take in the scene. "What the hell happened?"
"Work."
"You're covered in?—"
"Blood. Yeah." He starts unbuttoning his shirt, movements casual. Like this is normal.
I don't know what to say. I know, abstractly, what Saint does. Saint’s reputation for bloodshed is horrific.
I could ignore it before, even when I saw a spot of crimson here and there. I could pretend. It's much harder to do when Saint is standing before me blood-soaked.
"You should shower," I manage. The smell of copper is making my mouth water in nausea.
He pauses, shirt half-off. "Should I?"
"Yes. Before you…before we?—"
"Before I fuck you?" His eyes are cold. Assessing. "Don't pretend you don't know what I do, Gemma. Your brother does the same shit. It's all blood and bullets in our world."
I shiver. There’s something about his bluntness that always put me on edge.
"I know, but?—"
