Diavolo

xxxix

SILVIO

My breath came out in short, cold puffs, the frosty shake of my body against the worn-out squeaky mattress. I rose for a second, a little shaky and wobbly trying to find my balance before I walked a few feet to the fridge. There was leftover milk that would soon be rotten in a day or two and yogurt.

I'd finished the last of the bread Mamma bought before she left which meant I needed to save the yogurt for the evening. At least until she came back.

She was supposed to be back by now. She was never gone for more than three days but it was the fifth day and it was cold.

Horribly cold.

I could feel the chill dripping and cutting through my skin, brushing its rough edges and leaving a scar that wouldn't be seen but remembered.

The doorknob twisted and I jolted to my feet instinctively, dashing towards the kitchen to hide all the sharp objects I could manage to find.

        Last time I made the mistake of not doing so, there was blood everywhere. Red, crimson liquid dripping so slow I could feel it injected in my veins, chilling over.

"Mamma!" I rushed towards her as fast as I could, the exhaustion spreading over my body and leaving my cheeks flushed.

I collapsed against her legs, wrapping an arm around her hips and she jerked back. Jumping against the door and running almost like she'd been burnt.

A tight smile spread over her face, the confusion shot in her eyes like liquid cane sugar dissolving in hot liquid and twisted with abhorrence. "They've got you too. They've got you, boy."

A knock rained down against my car window and I jumped in the seat, groaning lowly when I felt the top of my head hit the the roof of the car.

        Running a palm down my jaw, I shifted my head towards the window to meet soft brown eyes. The same brown eyes that always seemed to fuck me over.

I sat upright in the leather seats, rolling down the window slightly to get a better look of her. My little angel.

        So bright, always smiling and defender of everything helpless but today, those brown eyes narrowed slightly in the form of a malicious glare.

It was expectant of her considering the events that'd unfolded over the last month. I deserved everything and anything she wanted to do to me.

        If she held me by the collar, drew a dagger against my throat and drew blood, I wouldn't be surprised and I wouldn't resist.

I was a fool, a love-stricken idiot because the only worst thing about being in love was the fact that I'd pushed her away in my deluded sense of cowardice.

Finley had called me out on my bullshit, persuaded me to fight back for her but she'd refused to tell me where Presley ran away to.

I spent a week trying to find where she would have traveled to though it would have been easy to call Tommaso, I'd violated her privacy enough to last a damn lifetime.

        And when I found her, I knew that I was such a goddamn fool. How could I have thought I couldn't return her advances?

She was the only thing in my life that made an ounce of sense, the only person I wanted attention from, the only woman I'd wanted to touch ever even if it would kill me.