I did this. I brought the reaper to Marco’s door.
If Raf despised me before, it won’t hold a candle to the ire he’ll feel when he learns my secret.
The ugly truth settles deep in my bones—just like this fucking curse I can’t outrun.
Trapped on the fringes of chaos and in the spiral of my own panic, I lost track and sight of everyone else. I’m certain they’re all on their way to the hospital, but after Raf managed to get my breathing under control, he entwined his fingers with mine andhasn’t let go of my hand. I wish I could ride the wave of euphoria this moment should bring, the feel of my small hand cocooned in his large one. Calloused. Strong. Safe. But the sense of peace his tenderness provides is fleeting. The happy ending where I get everything I ever dreamed of is just not the way my life goes. I’ve learned time and time again that the tradeoff for the desires of my heart is losing another piece of it to whatever misfortune lies in wait in the darkness.
I look at where our hands are connected, his grip firm and possessive. It dawns on me—I’ve deluded myself. Again. This is not caretaking but a deliberate move to ground me. Literally. To stop me from taking flight. Could he sense it? The way every fiber in my being begged me to get out of here. To make a run for it and take my bad blood as far away from these good people. A family of big-hearted souls who welcomed me into their group effortlessly. Taking me in like a stray dog that turned up uninvited, offering me the camaraderie, care, and unconditional love—showing up for me, a virtual stranger, the way they turn up for each other. The way I longed for my own family with the privilege not to have met their fate yet to show up for me. If we don’t love when we’re alive, what’s the point?
And how do I repay them? I bring the stench of death to their doorstep. Even if I try to outrun it, its claws are never far.
Run. I need to run.
I guess when all you know is bloodshed, tragedy, and double-crossing, you do as you know. What Raf said in the car earlier replays in my mind. He’s got my number, knows I’m keeping secrets. Just how many and which ones, I can’t tell.
I need to disappear before I can cause any more damage.
And yet I let him lead me to the car like he’s leading a horse to water.The way you led whoever the gunman was to Marco,the nasty voice in my head echoes back.
It was too late to stop the bloodshed, but maybe I could prevent the impending implosion that will follow if I let this secret out of the genie’s bottle.
Run.
That’s what I need to do. Head back to Los Angeles, stay with that hair and makeup artist I met there, get as far away as possible as soon as I can before AJ comes back to New York.
But my body feels too heavy. I feel Raf’s hand at my back and the other on top of my head, urging me to duck and get into the car. I comply, and when his driver slams it shut, I finally come to. I was awake but not in my body. The back seat feels too small, and I reach for the door handle ready to make this right, except it doesn’t budge. I wiggle it, and it dawns on me there’s no way I can escape. I’m hit with Raf’s rich, expensive cologne as he reaches over and puts my seat belt on.
“Don’t even think about it,” he says. “We need to get to the hospital. Everyone else followed the ambulance there.”
I look at him, and whatever he must see on my face gives him pause.
“I think you need to see someone as well, Chiara. You almost blacked out in panic. Is that what happened that night at Bella Donna too?”
Tears well, and I don’t stop them from spilling over.
“I’m broken, Raf. There’s no fix for me. It’s just the way it is. Even when I think I’ve turned a corner, found a ray of hope to hold onto, the heaviness finds me and suffocates me.”
He clenches his jaw, brows furrowed. Like he wants to refute what I’m saying, but also how can he refute the shit show that has ensued since I turned up.
I turn my face from his to look out the window, watching the way the light distorts as we speed to the hospital. Red. Silver. Blue. Bright white light.
Raf’s ringtone slices through the deafening silence.
“How is he?” I hear Raf say in the background.
“Fuck,” he exhales raggedly. “Yeah, we’re just pulling in.”
The heat is on, but chills have broken out on my body.
“Chiara. Chiara.”
I turn my eyes on Raf. He’s right there, but his voice sounds tiny.
“AJ is on his way back to New York. He doesn’t want you to leave my sight. Okay?”
I’m looking at him, and my answer must be written over my face like a billboard.
He grabs me by the jaw, making sure all I see and hear and smell is him. Invading my personal space like he did earlier, this time red-hot emotion fueling him.
