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When I open them again, I look into the box.
It's Kalo’s finger. His ring was still around the severed edge. The silver dragon with emerald eyes was custom made for him, so there was no mistaking this.
I slam the lid back down, pushing the box away from me.
Then, after a few moments, with the world spinning and my head churning in murderous thoughts, I pull the box back toward me.
I open it and lift the severed finger out.
I slip the ring off, sliding it onto my finger.
Kalo will want this back, and I'm going to make sure he gets it back.
This is a warning. He is still alive; I know he is otherwise, it would have been his head I found inside a box.
Lucas is the one spearheading this attack. He has mistaken my quiet nature for weakness, and now he is going to learn just how wrong he has been about me.
33
Seraphina
On the morning ofthe third day, I wake up in the same stuffy, horrible motel room and roll over in the otherwise empty bed. I'm overwhelmed with a heavy, desperate need to be wrapped in Antonio’s arms.
I have been doing nothing but lay in bed for the past two days, staring out of the tiny dusty window and thinking about all the things Antonio has said to me, trying to piece together why he would lie to me and why he would keep things from me.
The thing that I can't deny or push aside is that I know he loves me. I don’t have any doubt about that. Even though, at first, I wanted to accuse him of using me, disregarding me and having no respect for me, I just can’t keep those thoughts solid. I know it's not true. He loves me.
So, whatever his reason for not telling me he was going to the new Mafia Boss of New York City, - It's not because he doesn't care for me.
The conclusion that I have come to this morning especially, is that I need him. I love him, and I want him in my life. And I want to be in his life, regardless of who he is and what his future holds.
I have never felt this close to someone before.
I have never had the chance to be connected with another person.
I roll over in bed and rub my eyes. I think it's time for me to check out. I can't let this fear and trauma hold me back anymore. I need to dive in - and take a chance, accept the risk - and with that risk, find amazing rewards waiting for my heart.
It's time for me to go back.
I sit up, stretching my legs out in front of me, my muscles aching from this horrible bed with a sunken mattress. I don’t know how I stayed here for so long. I guess I was not even aware of my own surroundings, so lost in my thoughts.
I toss the blanket aside and get up. Pulling my clothing on, piece by piece, collecting all of my things that are scattered across the small dressing table, and tossing them into my handbag - I'm packed and ready to leave.
Leaving the motel, the guy behind the front desk waves in a friendly manner. I don’t think he often has guests stay this long. I thank him for looking out for me while I was here; he was friendly enough and checked in on me once or twice.
Then I step out into the bright morning light and take a breath of fresh air. It's so good to be out of that stuffy room.
I walk down the main street toward what I think is the right direction, then stop, realizing that I have no idea where I'm.
I don’t even know how I ran when I left.
I pull out my phone and punch in the hotel's name on my map and it tells me I'm around fifteen minutes away if I catch a taxi.
I hurry toward the busy street I see in front of me and wave down a yellow cab. My stomach is filled with butterflies at the thought of seeing Antonio again. I want to stop running away from things, and although It's how I process them, I think I need to learn a different way of dealing with challenges, Especially if I have someone who is patient and willing to help me through all the doubt.
The cab seems to take the longest way around, and I get impatient. All I want to do is get there. I can’t even know if he will be there, but I need to be there. Now.
I stare out the window at the traffic along the street. Sighing, I notice that this is not a fifteen-minute ride in morning peak hour traffic.
