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“What?” I growl.
Seeing Alessia disarms me for a fraction of a second – because I think it’s Marissa. But reality hits hard.
“I’m decent now.” She presents herself in jeans, sneakers, and a basic white top.
“You’re getting a bit too comfortable up here.”
She deflates a bit. “I’ll get out of your hair. I just came by to say…”
I glare at her, waiting for her to spit it out.
“…On behalf of the girls, thanks for saving Anabel. I would’ve never been able to carry her.”
I grunt and eye my burnt shrine.
“And… I’m sorry about the shrine. For my part in it, anyway.”
My jaw tenses. “You helped her unlock it.”
“Told her how, yes.”
“Curious, that a damsel scared to visit a supermarket is able to pick locks.”
She swallows hard, nerves tensing her body, just like when she was with Joey. But beyond that, beauty remains. My mind melds Marissa and her into one person. It’s like she’s in the flesh again. Make-up is even similar. Maybe… it is her.
My gaze softens as I scan those familiar features.
“That blank stare frightens me, Leandro.” She scratches at her arms. “I think I understand now, why you called me by her name.” She nods to one of the burnt photos. “But you have to know… I’m not her.”
I grit my teeth hard, the fantasy falling away. “Of course I know,” my growl scares her.
She waits awkwardly outside the door, scanning what’s left of my memorial. “Seven years, Leandro. It’s a long time.”
I tighten my fists to the point my knuckles turn white. “For me, it’s like yesterday.”
“Why, though?” She tiptoes. “The life you and Joey chose… there’s no peace in it.”
“We were going to leave it all behind.” My mind wanders again. “She was worth it.”
Alessia bites her inner cheek nervously, holding back her words, smartly so. At least for a few seconds until she wrangles her courage. “Back then, the rumors about you stirred in all the boys’ heads. You were like a phantom that everyone was afraid of. A hitman as talented as you could never leave this behind.”
I get to my feet and bore down on her. What does she know of me? I built this entire place with my bare hands. I’m not just a killer. I take a step forward, and she backs up until she’s flush against the hallway wall.
“Leandro, snap out of it,” she begs. “You’re staring at me again. It’s like you’re not there.”
It’s true. All I see is her. This is a new form of torture I just brought into my life.
“Maybe Anabel was right… maybe it’s time to let go,” she says.
I bend forward so we’re face-to-face. “Get… out,” my whisper rattles through her.
She ducks out of my vicinity with a gasp. My eyes tell her to keep moving before things get horribly worse.
“Back to your cage!” I yell and punch a hole in the wall. “Go!”
She rustles with the pulled-up carpet and runs down the marble stairs through the hatch. I hear the door slam shut, then I sigh, knowing I’m alone with my thoughts.
A slow walk around the house calms me. I open all the windows to let the rest of the smoke out, and analyze the back door I kicked off its hinges. My work is cut out for me.
