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We’re too different. The man is too fucked-up.
So am I. I know it. But we are different kinds of fucked-up.
Sometimes two fucked-up people can’t make it work, no matter how much attraction for each other they have. And believe me, my attraction to Lucas is above anyone else I have ever met.
The color of his eyes reminds me of getting lost in the woods. They meet mine over his shoulder, and he licks his lips.
Sometimes I wish I would let him kiss me. He may taint me for every other man, though. Kissing Lucas Rossi could be my downfall, one I may not be able to climb back from. Thankfully, he has never taken my lips without my permission.
“I believe so.”
Shit! His words shock me.
“No, you can’t let him.” My hands clench beside me with the panic running through my body. Adrenaline so strong pulsates and makes me feel woozy.
“You don’t get a choice in this life. I knew that going into it when I decided to help my father.” Lucas closes his eyes for a second and pauses after he says that last word. “That this could, no would be an outcome eventually. Yet, I chose to do it anyway.”
“So that’s it? You would just, what? Die?” I ask in utter disbelief.
“Yes,” he replies with no room for argument.
But that’s never going to happen with me because I will always argue with him. “So you’ll give up.” I throw my hands in the air with the disgust I feel right now.
“There is no fighting who we are and what will be, mia per sempre.”
“Maybe you’ve never tried,” I bite back at him.
“I would be a fool to do so, and I am no fool,” he says. Returning to the bed, he pulls his shirt off and pushes the covers back, then sits. He toes off his shoes one by one. “Now eat. I made it for you.”
I want to roll my eyes at him.
His stupid love language.
Tell me he’s going to die, oh, but here’s some food.
At least that’s a new one.
“Do you plan to strangle me later for killing your father?”
“I haven’t decided, but how poetic would that be? Knowing I’m going to die and that I should take you with me.” He gets in the bed next to me. “Though I have a feeling even if I tried, I probably couldn’t do it.” He reaches for the television remote and changes the channel as he lies back against the pillows. His presence is making me feel oddly safe.
“I heard you call me a whore,” I tell him after a moment of silence. “What does it matter if you kill the whore?”
“It matters. You matter. I’m angry… make no mistake about that.” He looks at me, and I can’t work out what I am seeing. Is it anger? Confusion? “But killing you is not on my agenda… for today.” He motions to my food. “Eat.”
And I do.
I eat every damn last bite.
And when I’m finished, Lucas takes the plate and puts it beside him, then pulls me to him. I try to pull away at first, but as my head touches his chest, I know it’s impossible.
Lucas is like a magnet I never wanted drawn to me. Yet, here he is, stuck to me even after the worst events of our lives.
Death is hanging in the air, but here we are. Together.
That is some fucked-up fairy tale, right?
Luckily for me, I don’t believe in happily ever afters.
