The moment I walk in, I can feel her.
My mother.
That's why I don't come in here. She died years ago, but this library has captured her essence in a way I can't explain.
I think about her, everything she was. She would have been pissed if I were running around here searching for a woman I want to keep captive. A woman I actually want to love me one day. The same way she loved my father.
What the fuck is happening to me?
The pain in my side sharpens suddenly, so I sit down, leaning back in the chair with my arm across my face, giving it a minute to subside. Before I know it, my leg is shaking again. This is the second time this month. I haven't had this much anxiety since I was a kid, and it's really fucking with me.
I sit there, arm over my face, willing my leg to stop.
It doesn't.
Figure I'll just stay here for a while. It'll stop soon.
While I sit there, thinking about everything I've seen, everything I've done, everything I've become, my leg keeps shaking.
Just relax, Salvatore.
I begin to breathe in and out, summoning my body to obey me.
Suddenly, my leg stops.
My body tenses. Not because it stopped, but because of why it stopped.
I open my eyes to find her hand resting on my thigh, her fingers tracing gentle circles against the fabric.
I catch her wrist before she can pull away completely.
"Valentina." My voice is rough, stripped of it’s usual control.
She waits. Patient. Those green eyes fixed on mine like she can see straight through every wall I've ever built.
“You're here. “
“I'm here.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Valentina
Istayed.
Not because I didn't want to leave, but because I realized my plan was fucking insane.
The plan seemed simple. But even Stevie Wonder could see it was crazy as hell.
Step outside and act normal, just in case there were any guards there, then jump in the truck, ram it through the gate, head to my mother's house, take her car, and escape.
I really believed I was going to go through with it, and then I thought to myself, what if the truck is a stick shift? I can't drive a stick shift. Heck, I can barely drive an automatic, according to Lindsay. But in my defense, that’s because I can’t parallel park to save my life, but most people can’t, right?
And then I examined my “ram into the gate” theory and remembered there are two sets of gates. One to exit the main house, the second to exit the property. Even if the car is drivable after I ram into the first set of gates, would it survive a second? Would I survive a second?
The more I thought about my crazy, random escape attempt, the more I realized I was out of my freaking mind.
I can't help but chuckle at the madness. "Valentina, girl, you've read too many books. Thinking you're a superwoman or some shit."
