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“Hush now,” I say for a second time, stroking his forehead again. “You just rest.”
I don’t know why, but I kiss his cheek as he starts to snore. “Sleep well,” I whisper before walking out of the room.
Eva shuts the door quietly before turning to face me. “Thanks for that,” she says.
“No trouble,” I reply. “I better go to bed myself.”
“Good night,” she says, walking away down the stairs.
I head for my own room, closing the door behind me. Part of me wants to try and get out of here, but like they said just now. Where am I going to go?
I undress and then climb into bed. I think about Marco. So filled with grief he’s trying to drink himself into unconsciousness. Managed it, too.
Why did I kiss his cheek? I should hate him, but when I saw him collapse on the floor, all I wanted to do was help him. Why?
I’m no closer to an answer when I settle down to sleep.
The last thing I think of, before I drift off, is that I must get out of here tomorrow. I can’t stay here. To do that is to accept the situation, and I will not do that.
I don’t dream of anything at all. I certainly don’t dream a steamy fantasy involving me and Marco. That does not happen. I don’t even know why you suggested it.
Fifteen
Marco
* * *
The first thing I hear when I wake up is the birds outside my window. I want them all to die. What’s normally quiet is screeching loudly in my hungover brain, bypassing my ears and going straight to my pain receptors.
I must have gotten blackout drunk last night. I don’t even remember how I got into bed.
I sit up. There’s no point feeling sorry for myself. The only way to shift a hangover is to shift yourself. I swing my legs out of bed. A flashback hits me a moment later. My cheek tingles with sensation. I put my hand to it.
She kissed me there. Last night. I was laid in bed and she was nearby. I remember trying to talk to her. What was I saying?
I wince as I remember. I was trying to tell her she doesn’t deserve what I’m going to do to her. She deserves a better life than I’m going to give her. All that can come of this is pain for her.
I remember that vividly, the guilt that swept over me when I looked into her eyes in the kitchen.
I’m glad I passed out. I showed weakness last night.
It won’t happen again.
This is only about revenge. Not about feelings. I let them in and this all falls apart.
I refuse to feel guilty about this. Piper brought this on himself. She is related to him. It’s that simple. I’m not going to think about her the way I did last night when I was on the cusp of sleep. I will not be weak.
I get out of bed and get a shower. As the icy cold water washes over me, my hangover subsides. My mind is filled with fresh memories of last night.
I saw her on the cameras. She lied to protect Eva and Giuseppe. They fed her against my wishes. She protected them. Why would she do that?
It hurts me to admit it, especially knowing she has Piper blood coursing through her veins, but she seems to be a good person. That makes this harder. It would be easier to fuck her over if she was an asshole, but she’s not. She’s good. She’s innocent. Everything Piper isn’t. Clearly leaving his clutches so young did her some good.
I shake my head under the water, turning it off a moment later. I step out, refusing to think about my developing feelings for her. I won’t do it.
I put my gym gear on and head down to the basement. The sun is barely up. I’ve no doubt she’ll be asleep. Damn it, I need to stop thinking about her.
I lift weights for forty-five minutes. Once that’s done, I head through to the firing range next door. My arms are aching. The perfect time to test my reactions. I set the computer and then brace myself. The targets pop up and I move fast, shooting one after another.
