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“I’d probably come again,” she whispers.
“You want me to fuck you?”
She shakes her head. “It’s a death sentence for me.”
She isn’t exactly saying she doesn’t want it, but I don’t know of anyone willing to die just to get laid. I hate the tears that form on her lower lashes.
Her eyes flutter closed. “I don’t want to want it.”
It’s a confession if I’ve ever heard it. I know better now than to make an assumption. I can only imagine the condition her head is in after years of torment from the Severino boys and now what has happened with me.
“You want him to have it?”
She opens her eyes, causing one tear to roll down her cheek. “I want to have a choice. It’s all I ever wanted.”
“You’re choosing to stay here.”
Sadness fills her features, her chin quivering with emotion she’s almost too strong to let show.
“And it may get my father killed.”
I don’t say anything. I don’t assure her the bastard is safe. I don’t voice my opinion that the man deserves to die for not protecting her. What that man has done is a million times worse than Patrick not seeking vengeance for Ellie. At least the man would never feed his daughter to the wolves the way Madelene’s father did.
“You’re safe here,” I assure her as I take a step back, doing my best to ignore my erection.
I have to be imagining the way she leaned toward me as I created distance between the two of us. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve let my thoughts control what I want to see, making those fantasies seem like reality.
“I’ll never be safe,” she whispers. “As long as Alessio and his men are alive, he’ll keep looking for me.”
The first time she told me this, I wanted to call her a liar. There isn’t a woman alive that would be worth spending a lifetime chasing after, but I can’t help but think that maybe she’s right. I know that if she walked out of this house one day while I was out getting food, my first instinct would be to search for her. Maybe Alessio’s connection to her is deeper than I first realized. It’s very possible she’s more than just a payday to him. Even if it’s vengeance he seeks for me taking her, she could be right about him continuing his search.
I think about finding him first, but my focus has been on her since bringing her here. It’s no longer about finding out about the Severino family. I haven’t asked a question in days. I haven’t thought about killing them in regard to what he did to Ellie in just as long. I still want him dead, still imagine slitting his throat, but I’ve thought about it most recently when I see her flinch and when she whimpers at night from her nightmares.
I still want revenge, but somehow it’s transitioned into retribution for Madelene rather than for Ellie.
She watches my face expectantly, as if she needs me to tell her I’ll protect her, that I’m willing to stand in front of flying bullets, willing to take their strikes to my chest in order to prevent them from hitting her.
I’m stuck in her gaze, transfixed, but also wondering if she’s been manipulating me this whole time. My distrust isn’t just for her. I haven’t trusted anyone fully in a long time. It only leads to disappointment. I couldn’t trust that my mother left my father in order to protect me because we ended up in a much worse place than the one we left. When I’d had too much and took my destiny into my own hands, she wasn’t grateful.
I’ve burned so many precious bridges in order to live the life I have, in order to stay sane.
I can’t let a single woman come in and turn all of that upside down.
The look in her eyes makes me wonder if she’s thinking the same thing, that this is some sort of game to me. It almost makes me want to smile. She’s a smart woman, intelligent beyond what she wants people to know, for being so distrusting. She may possibly be the mirror image of me, which means she’ll never give in to me fully, just like I can’t allow that myself.
I know I’m a liar the second the thought sweeps into my head.
Playing her would be a whole lot less complicated than my current situation.
I take another full step away from her, the warmth of her body enough to complicate my thoughts.
I don’t drop my eyes to her breasts. I don’t lower them even further, although I feel a desperate need to get a look at her swollen clit. I feel like I’ve offered her more of my power by backing away than I ever intended.
I know it tells her that I’m not the monster I’ve been pretending to be. It’s a confession that I’d never hurt her the way Marcello and Alessio have.
