Page 107 of The Dearly Departed

If only.

"But you thought about me," she whispered, breathless and wanton.

I turned my head to seek her eyes, knowing she couldn't see mine, but hoping that somehow, in some way, she knew I was looking as I admitted against my better judgment, "All the time."

She swallowed again, her hand lifting to hover over the mask, her fingertips barely grazing the surface. So close, so close to revealing my face to her needy gaze, and, God, what I would give to let her.

“I want to see your face,” she whispered, pleading. “I want to know what you look like.”

“Would that change things?”

"No," she replied, and, God, I believed her. "Just … please—"

"Analise!”

At the sound of her name being called from somewhere in the house, somewhere close, she gasped and tumbled backward out of my reach. She landed on her bottom with her eyes still on me and her chest heaving as Benjamin hurried into the room.

"What the hell is happening here?" he asked suspiciously, taking in the sight of me on the couch with my pants torn and her on the floor.

"What does it look like?" I fired back, gesturing toward my leg.

He came closer and peered at the length of gauze. The accusatory glare faded as he wrinkled his nose and asked, "The fuck happened to you?"

"Marco happened," I muttered, taking my time standing from the couch.

"He's dead though?"

Benjamin addressed me like he held some kind of authority over my position, like I had to answer to him in this circle of corruption. Neither was true, as far as I was concerned. Truthfully, apart from being the slimeball Analise was dating—for reasons I still couldn’t understand—I had no idea what his actual purpose in this family was. He was just there, and I hated him for it … among other things.

Like jealousy.

I was so jealous of him; it made me feel sick.

I regarded him with exhaustion as I asked, "Do you have to ask?"

He crossed his arms over his chest and tipped his head back to look up at me. “Well, where’s Dean then? I didn’t see him when I—"

“Were you looking for me for a reason?” Analise interrupted him as she shoved the first aid kit beneath the sofa before standing.

He furrowed his brow, not appreciating the interruption. But even with his expression of displeasure, he turned from me to address her.

"I was talking to Gerry last night. And I couldn’t wait to talk to you, so I came over as soon as I woke up," he said, reaching out to caress her face.

She flinched, and I doubted he noticed. I doubted he'd care if he did.

But I noticed, and as his palm molded to cup her cheek, that jealous rage I only felt in their presence took flight in my gut. It dug into the softness of my flesh, burrowing deep as the pain struck in pangs of nausea.

I wanted to cut that hand from his body. I wanted to throw it in a blazing fireplace, to scorch the flesh from the bones, along with every memory of having touched her skin.

She didn’t flinch when I touched her, I thought, and I wanted to boast with pride, but what the fuck did it matter when she was already his?

"He was talking about when we’d be getting married." There was a suggestion in his tone and a smirk on his face, like marriage was a dastardly scheme.

Hell, I guessed for some people, it was.

She frowned as a momentary look of desperation overtook her eyes. She tried to hide it, tried not to make it obvious, but I'd know that look anywhere.

She didn't like Benjamin, let alone love him.