I feel Carmine get even closer to me. My body warms as his hand touches my shoulder.
“Fuck. What did he say? What did he do?”
I’m quiet, I slide my hand down even more.
“Soren, for fucks sake tell me.”
I grab my gun and turn around, pressing it against his sternum.
Carmine gasps. His eyes flick down to the gun pressed to his chest and then up to my eyes that are now open. I stare back into the face of the man I have to kill.
“Soren…” he mumbles. His bright eyes move as he thinks. As he figures it out.
“Why?” he asks.
I swallow the lump in my throat. “I have to,” I growl out. Low and rumbling in my chest.
“You don’t,” he whispers.
I clench my teeth. “You don’t understand,” I say. “Eivor…he’s not going to stop. It doesn’t matter if I kill you, someone else kills you. You’ll be dead, Carm.”
My fingers twitch.
“I won’t. You know that. For sucks sake, Ren. After what we just shared? You’re really going to kill me?” His voice is low. Like he doesn’t want to alert anyone. Doesn’t want a guard to come bursting through the door.
Why doesn’t he yell for help?
He might stand a chance. Maybe.
My breath is shaky. “I have to,” I repeat myself. “If I don’t. I die.”
Carmine lifts a hand and presses it to my wrist. “No, you don’t. If they come near you?—”
I cut him off. “My family is all I have! My loyalty to them…it’s all I’m worth. Tell me, if your only option was to kill me or betray your family, which would you choose? Which would you really choose?” My voice gets louder, and my eyes burn. I press the gun firmer to his chest.
“I’m in charge here,” he hisses. “I’m not your uncle. I’m not some power-hungry tyrant trying to take over the world. I want to build my empire surrounded by others’ power, not crushing everyone to dust.”
“You don’t kill?” I ask him in disbelief. “You’ve never had blood on your hands? You’ll never kill an entire family to take their place?”
Carmine’s jaw shifts. “I never said that,” he tells me. “There will always be blood on my hands, but it won’t be for no fucking reason.”
I stay quiet, struggling to keep my composure.
“Do you really want my blood on your hands, Soren?” he asks. He lifts his other hand and pressed it to my cheek. His thumb brushes my bottom lip. Warmth shoots up and down my body, to my ears and neck, and down to my groin.
My hand nearly shakes. My knees feel weak.
I still don’t reply. I just glare at him; more and more pain settling into my bones.
“Your finger isn’t even on the trigger.”
The look in Carmine’s eyes is so intense that I can’t help but break.
Every breath comes rushing out and my lip trembles.
How emotional can one man make me?
I try to hold it in. I try to find the darkness that dwells inside me; let it take over. Let it do the job I need to do. But I find that the darkness is too far mingled with the rest of me; and the rest of me, isn’t willing to even put my finger on the damn trigger.
