If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be here now. I wouldn’t have been nearly raped by Uncle Lyle. I wouldn’t have seen all those men killed in cold blood right in front of me.
I need to get out of here. I need to get away from him.
At the next light, I grab the door handle and rattle it as hard as I can.
He reaches over, wraps his palm around my forearm, and rips me away from the handle. “Enough.”
“L-let me go. I don’t want to be with you anymore. I want to go home.”
“We can’t go back to Darkwater.”
“Let go of me!”
He does, but I still can’t breathe. I don’t want to be in this car. Don't want to sit beside him and share air with him. “You’re a monster.”
“Slap whatever label you want on me,” he growls. “But I’m not letting you go home.”
“Why not?”
He takes a deep breath, and when he starts talking to me, his voice is low and soothing, like I’m a wild animal he’s trying to tame. “The Ferraros would find us.”
“Us? What do I have to do with any of this?”
“You’re mine. They know you’re mine. Your godfather most likely told them he was using you to get to me. They will kill me, and they will kill you, Blake.”
“I’m not yours. I don’t wantanythingto do with you.”
“It doesn’t matter what you want,” he says. “I’m trying to save your life.”
I stare out the window, watching the side of the road pass by in a blur. The world outside feels distant, like a dream. How did I get here? How did I become entangled in all of this?
My gut told me not to trust him the day he moved in.
But again, I didn’t listen. And now I’m going to have to pay for that mistake.
CHAPTER 44
NERO
She’s looking at me like she’s never seen me before. And the truth is that she hasn’t.
What she saw before was a mask.
And now that the mask is gone, she has no desire for the man behind it.
It’s not surprising. I knew she’d never accept Nero, but what I didn’t know is how much her rejection would decimate me.
This morning, I woke up happy in the knowledge that she would stay with me, that she was going to try to have a life with me.
But now that it’s dark outside, that happiness is no more than a distant memory. My mind is a vortex of bleak, joyless thoughts.
Sandro’s not the only person I lost today.
“Where are you taking me?”
I don’t answer, because I don’t know. I need to think.
When she talks, her voice shakes. She’s scared of me. Petrified.
