She slips between two trees, and I lunge from my hiding spot before she notices me. My hand wraps her wrist, spinning her around until her back’s against my chest, and my free hand slaps over her mouth to muffle potential screams as I drag her backwards.
“It’s me. Don’t yell.”
I release her to face me. Her expression scrunches, presumably in anger or annoyance, but she can be irritated another time. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Be happy I am.”
A car door slamming shut followed by a loud shout in Italian gains our attention. Her boyfriend slips into his car and backs away. With my own muffled curse, I release Serafina, intending to go after him—schematics not yet figured out—but the tires kick up dirt in his rush to get away.
Then, he’s gone, and I have no proof of his identity.
Blyat.
Serafina approaches, her shoes cracking over the terrain. If I didn’t follow them, the asshole really would have left her out here, where fuck knows what or who could attack her.
I’m going to kill him for his damn lack of respect.
With an aggravated feeling in my throat, almost a growl, I turn to her, stopping at the sight, immobile like a bullet’s jammed into my gut.
Tears line her eyes, a drop halfway down her cheek.
Blyat.He’s made her cry.
Crying confuses me. I never know how to react, what to do or say. If possible, I let Anastasia or literally anyone else handle the tearful person, but right now, there is no one else. While tears typically make me want to bolt, Serafina’s keep me grounded. My head thumps, and this time, it’s not for reasons relating to noise, but rather, confusion. Always confusion with this woman.
“Can we go home?”
She’s staring at me with eyes wider than ever, with an expression halfway broken and halfway depressed. Her shoulders are bent in on themselves, her disposition low. She reminds me of myself when I’m dragged to social events, which thankfully have been minimal since Vanessa’s takeover.
“Da, let’s go.”
There’s only one place I want to go, and that’s after her dick of a boyfriend, but it isn’t what Serafina needs. To realize the truth behind my presence when I drag us halfway around Rome searching for his car wouldn’t be wise. She needs comfort and safety, and while I’m uncertain how to give those, returning to campus is a start.
She follows me through the small patch of woods towards the car parked nearby. I lead her to the passenger side and open the door. She’s silent when climbing in, and by the time I’m in my own spot, she’s buckled and twisted to the door, her head against the seat.
Thank fuck she doesn’t need to talk about it, because that may very well be the limit of my capabilities. Would I try? Fuck yeah, for her. Because somehow, Serafina Mancini has this ability to drag me from my comfort zone and make the uncomfortable easier.
As the trip goes on, I’m almost wishing she’d talk, or at least face me. Anything but blankly staring at the door, body stiff. She’s without her usual spunkiness, which freaks me out and suggests she really isn’t well.
Like she reads my mind, she puts me out of my misery by asking, “Were you there the entire time?”
“Da.”
“How’d you know where we went?”
She’d never be able to get the tracking software off her phone because she wouldn’t know where to look for it, so for the sake ofher own mood, I remain silent, letting her fill in the blanks with whatever creative reason she invents.
She doesn’t probe further, and after five more minutes of silence, I choke up the question I really need to know. A question that’d be easy for anyone else to ask but takes real effort from me. Three of those five minutes were spent mentally wording and re-wording it so it comes out clear—normal, the way anyone else would ask it.
“Are you okay?”
Her silence lasts a full ten seconds—I count every single one, assuming I fucked up. I should have remained quiet and not asked what was in my head.
Finally, as we pass under a streetlight that reveals the misery on her face, she whispers, “No.”
“I’m sorry.”That’s appropriate to say, right?
“I liked him but didn’t completely trust him either, you know? The longer we were together, the more the red flags popped up.”
