Dark Saint [Romano Brotherhood, #1]

18 | Nina

The open bag on the bed is taunting me.

I glower as I shove a few shirts, pants, and other essentials inside with a little too much force. It's a plastic bag from the kitchen, certainly not adequate, but all I can think of is that I need to get the hell out of here.

At least I can pack some clothes this time. I grabbed some snacks and a few things around the house that look like they could potentially be expensive. A vintage looking lockbox. A sterling silver utensil set. A first edition Jane Eyre. Things I can potentially sell once I get to where I'm going—which is decidedly not here—since I'm otherwise penniless.

I've been laying low for a few days, creeping to the kitchen for a snack when nobody else is around, curling up in the library and pretending to be asleep anytime someone comes in. Reading isn't the distraction it once was ever since the other day, when I found a ragged copy of The Brothers Karamazov. Tommaso randomly grabbed it from me but before he did, I came across a line that made me uncomfortable. For some reason it made me think of Santo instead of the very reason one reads—to escape into another world.

I punish myself for my whole life, my whole life I punish.

I haven't been able to lose myself in words since. Not when I'm consumed with thoughts of what I'll be leaving. Not when those words remind me of someone, someone I don't even really know.

Pistachio has been stumbling over my ankles, following me everywhere. It breaks my heart I can't bring him, but I simply don't have the resources to care for a puppy on my own right now.

Is it stupid, trying to leave? Yes. 

Do I have anything to lose? Not really. 

Part of me wants to see what Santo would do, how far it would push him. That self sabotage from earlier is tasting a whole lot like recklessness but I just can't bring myself to care. At the very least, I can say I tried to get away from Massimo and his cold, calculating stares. From the tension I've introduced into his relationship with Santo. That's not something I want to be in the middle of, not one bit. 

I timed it so that Tommaso is the only one here right now. I heard him in the kitchen, ordering some pizza on the phone. I know that he'll sit at the counter on his phone until the pizza arrives, so I have a short window of time. Santo left with Nico this morning—some meeting, as far as I know—and Massimo has been practically locked in his office for the last week.

As long as Santo isn't here, that's the best shot I'm going to get.

I pad softly down the stairs, gripping the bag with trembling fingers and wincing when it rustles slightly.

"Nina!"

I nearly tumble down the last three steps at Tommaso's yell. I freeze, my heart beating out of my chest, but he's still in the kitchen, and I'm fairly sure he can't see me. What the hell?

"I got pizza! Pepperoni and that barbecue shit you like! Honestly, I'm really struggling with the fact that I paid for that cancer, so you better be here when it comes because I will snap and throw it the fuck away!"

Does he... still think I'm in my room? And he's trying to speak to me from the kitchen? I roll my eyes, resuming my journey to the side door that I saw Santo open the other night. Unlocking it, I wonder if Santo will be surprised or impressed that I figured the code out.

I open the door and step out, the cold air biting my cheeks. Unexpectedly, my hand pauses as I go to push the door shut behind me. An uncomfortable feeling creeps through my chest. I try and swallow it back, but it fills me with unease as I finally turn and walk away from the house.