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Katarina
“Rocco is over there giving you such an eye-raping right now!” Shaye lets out a loud snort and falls over on the couch. “Are you sore, Kat?”
I smirk at Nico. “Wow, it sure doesn’t look like you’re going to be doing anything fun in the bedroom tonight.” I nod at Shaye who’s still lying flat on her back on the couch, chuckling at her mostly accurate observation. “I think you’ll be spending it in the bathroom holding back your girlfriend’s hair.”
Nico groans. “She can’t hold her liquor at all.”
“In my defense, I only had a bowl of cereal today.” Shaye swings herself to a sitting position and points to me. “What did you eat?”
“A fifth of vodka.” I smirk. It’s in my blood, what can I say?
Sloane, Shaye’s best friend, giggles. She picks up a bottle of water. “Ugh, I can’t even stomach the thought of vodka.”
“Where’s the man of the hour? Making the rounds?” I ask Sloane.
A deep pink flush creeps into her cheeks, and her eyes glow like candles at the mention of Max. “Yes. He keeps coming over to check on me, but I told him not to worry.” She winks at Shaye. “Since I’m the sober one here.”
Nico pours a shot of Belvedere vodka, and I scrunch up my nose when he hands it to me. “Seriously? I’m not drinking that shit. Get me something else.”
He sees Max pass by our booth. “Hey, do you have any speed rack vodka you can bring over for Kat? She’s making faces at your good booze.”
“She’s-s loyal, Nico. You’ve gotta respect that,” Shaye slurs, her head rolling back against the cushion.
Fucking A right. I’m loyal with a capital L.
Max brings over a bottle of Stoli and sets it in front of me with a wink. “If the lady wants speed rack, she gets speed rack.”
I laugh and swat his arm after the bottle is safely in my grasp. “Thanks.”
I pour myself a drink and take a sip. My eyes wander back to the bar where I found Rocco earlier. My gut twists a bit when I see the now-empty area where I’d left him. I twist a strand of my hair around my finger, scouting the rest of the club. I bite down on my lower lip. Would he have left? Without saying goodbye? Without trying to—?
Sonofabitch!
Whywould he even try? I shut him down every chance I get.
Is it because of my sick need for control?
Or is it because I’m afraid that I’ll fall for him if I don’t?
I drain the rest of my glass, half-listening to the conversation around me. Who the hell knew that I’d ever end up as part of this group? After the attack on our family, Papa let me in on some things…plans he had to crush his enemies and expand his interests here in America. He blamed himself for the deaths of Mom and Lili, not that he ever said as much. But once they were gone, he made sure he was glued to my side. If ever he took a business trip, he brought me along. I’d hoped it would make us closer, make him remember how it was to be a father. But being so close physically did nothing for my heart and soul. The emptiness always remained.
Maybe carting me around eased his guilt, but it only made me feel more and more alone. He barely talked, never spoke about that day. He never asked me how I felt, if I missed them, if I was hurting, if I wanted to talk about things.
He completely iced over. All of his emotions froze, just like his heart.
I no longer had a family.
But I didn’t die with them! I’m still here, and he doesn’t care!
I’m an asset to the family. I’m a trained lethal weapon. I’m a trusted confidante.
But deep down, I’m also still that petrified sixteen-year-old girl who’s crouched behind the kitchen island watching her mother get bludgeoned with a Ming vase and her sister get brutally raped.
I’m still the scared kid who has nobody to talk to, nobody to cry with, nobody to hug.
Sometimes I wish they’d killed me, too.
Living alone in this empty shell hurts worse than any pain those bastards could have inflicted.
