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But it’s not what I expected to see at all.
Sean drops the rafter and falls to the ground, shaking with anger and tears flooding from his eyes, and screams. The sound rips my soul in two.
On the floor, in the debris, is a severed arm with a gold ring still on one of her fingers. The pattern is unmistakable--it’s the Ferro family crest.
It’s his mother’s ring. The one she wears every day and never takes off.
Constance Ferro is dead.
CHAPTER 3
My throat tightens as I hear Sean cry out. I know he didn’t get along with his mother, hell she hated him--she hated everyone--so the extent of his reaction surprises me a little bit. I had no idea how much he cared for her despite her evilness.
I don’t know what to think about this, about any of it. I stare at the severed arm and wish to God this never happened. The position of her arm makes it look as if she were asleep. Swallowing hard, I try not to choke. I’m so close to totally losing it, but I can't because of Sean.
If I saw my mother blown apart, I’d lose it. I’d scream until my lungs burned, and my throat was raw. Terror would creep up my spine like an icy finger and make me sick. I’d see the world around me freeze. The flurry of meaningless daily tasks would blast from my mind. Every worry, every thought would be blown away--except for thoughts of her.
Regret for all the things I didn’t get to say or do would consume me. I'd wonder if she was in pain when she died. The thoughts have no words at first. They fall slowly, becoming clearer as they land, little pieces of ash drifting through the air.
Sean is living in that nightmare, the worst thought playing across his face--he failed to save her. He came close, but his failure means Constance's death.
Throat tight and burning, I pad over the glass-covered floor and kneel next to Sean. I raise my hand to place it on his shoulder, my palm hovering over him, unsure of what to do. I want to pull him out of that thought. He couldn’t have saved her. He couldn’t have saved Amanda. I wrestle with the same thought of saving my parents. I feel the guilt of it around my neck squeezing the life out of me.
Sometimes there is no fault, no blame. Even if there is a finger to point at someone, it’s not Sean. The man lives a double life. There’s a hardened exterior that’s cruel and frightening, but beneath the surface is a broken man with too much empathy to live with loss. The explosion adds one more life to the pile, one more person to mourn, and one more person to twist his tortured soul until he falls apart.
“Sean.”
He doesn’t move. His chest expands as he breathes and chokes back an angry sob. Those dark eyes focus on his mother’s ring; his lower lids twitch upward as if he can't control them any longer. His jaw locks and he shakes his head.
Shock is a strange thing. At first it felt like I could pull us both to safety. I thought we’d save his mother and run out of here, but the queasy feeling in my stomach won’t let up. The only thing I can think about is his mother sitting out here, pressing the phone to her ear, scolding Sean right before the room exploded. Did she know she was going to die? She had to know, she screamed horrifically over the phone. It’s not a sound easily forgotten.
I try to swallow, but can’t. The lump in my throat won’t move. My legs buckle, and I hug my knees tighter, intending to bury my face.
Sean’s voice makes me tip my head to the side.
“Avery?”
I blink once, slowly. Suddenly, the room shifts violently and my face lands hard against shards of glass on the floor. I try to shake it off and sit up, but I can’t. The room won’t stop spinning. I blink a few times, trying to focus my eyes and failing. Sean’s voice echoes as if he were far away.
Constance's ring is the last thing I see before the world goes dark.
CHAPTER 4
My body prickles with goose bumps, but I can’t feel the night air. I move my hand through the thin layer of fog feeling nothing.
I’m not outside. I’m alone, standing in the middle of a vacant room. There are no walls, only darkness. I don’t know where I am. My heart thumps harder in my chest, and I can’t breathe. There’s smoke. It’s everywhere, filling the room from top to bottom in thick, billowy black clouds.
I scream out for Sean, but I have no voice. I try again, but the only sound is a blood-curdling scream. It seems like it will never end. I fall to my knees and press my face to the floor, covering my head. Tears streak my cheeks, but I can’t feel them. I don’t feel the heat of the room or the smoke, but it chokes me all the same.
My body betrays me, and I slump to the floor like a rag doll, no longer able to move. It's like I’m trapped on tar paper, pinned in place. I open my mouth and inhale deeply, intending to scream as loud as I can, but the scream is silent.
No one can hear me. I’ll die here, alone.
I blink, trying to focus. Across from me, like a tiny sun in the darkness, something flashed. I blink away the smoke and swallow the pain, trying to see what it is. I reach out toward the light and find a familiar touch--Sean. He’s wearing his mother’s ring on his pinky. He reaches out toward me and takes my hand.
“I’m sorry, Avery.” His words are a whisper. They carry through the smoke and touch my ears like a kiss.
Fear courses through my veins. Is he giving up? We can’t die here! Sean’s grip on my hand loosens, so I tighten my fist. I try to yell,
“NO! Don’t leave me! Sean!”
I manage to pull my heavy body forward, enough to grip his hand firmly. I want to pull his hand to my cheek. I want to touch him, to hold him one last time.
My stomach is in knots as fear pushes my pulse into the stroke zone. I say things, things that have no meaning and lift his heavy hand, pulling it toward me. I press the back of his palm to my cheek, and when I lower my mouth to his skin, I press my lips to his skin.
When I open my eyes, I see what I’m holding--Sean’s severed arm, dripping with blood. A scream rakes through my body, bellowing out of my mouth.
I shoot up, covered in sweat and wailing like a banshee.
A hand firmly grabs me and silences my shriek. Sean’s warm breath brushes against my ear.
“You’re all right. Avery, we need to be quiet. Vic’s men are still here.”
I blink, confused. Slowly, I turn toward Sean, heart still pounding in my chest.
“You’re alive.” Tears sting my eyes as I throw my arms around his neck. “Oh, God, Sean.”
“You were dreaming. I’m right here,” he says, kissing the top of my head.
He holds me for a moment; his touch normally chases away my nightmares, but this time it doesn’t. Those hands, those strong, sure hands will end up as lifeless as his mother’s hands. A lump the size of a tennis ball forms in my throat. I can’t imagine my world without him.
This is my fault. All of it.
Sean pulls back but holds onto my shoulders. He offers a small smile before pushing a lock of hair out of my eyes.
“You’ve been through Hell today. If you didn’t have nightmares, I’d be worried. It’s okay, Avery.”
My lips try to pull into a smile, but they quiver and fall. I’m going to lose him. If we keep going down this path, Sean will end up beneath six feet of dirt. I look away, not wanting him to see my thoughts.
My brows pull together as I notice my surroundings. Planks of age-darkened wood cover the walls and floor. A patch of moonlight shines through the roof, casting silver light across the aged floor. In the center of the small room is the trunk of a massive oak tree. I blink again.
“How hard did I hit my head?”
Translation: Where the fuck are we?
“Welcome to Casa Dei Diamanti,” Sean answers, laughing. He breathes in the night air lustily, mirth reaching his eyes for a brief moment before the sadness sucks it away again.
“Welcome to the demented house? Seriously?” My eyebrow shoots up inquisitively.
Sean shakes his head, his dark locks falling forward. When he looks up, he glances up at me from beneath those dark
lashes, as if he were going to share some deep dark secret.
“You’re joking, right? Everyone has to take a second language in high school. You are an over-educated woman, Miss College Graduate. How do you not know what ‘diamanti’ means?”
Offended, I smile with feigned patience.
“Spill, Mr. Jones. Where am I? The Batcave? Did the tree lift your evil underground lair into the sky as it grew?”
He snort-laughs boyishly as if I tickled him in the perfect spot.
