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Again, the parallels between her and Bianca jump out at me. That's exactly what she said, that she didn't want to have Lucas' death on her conscience.
“You aren’t responsible for anything that happens to that piece of shit. For now, I need you to forget about Kristoff,” I add when she starts to argue. “Right now, we need to focus on you. Getting you the help you need. You matter more than he ever will.”
I close my arms around her, breaking down a little further with every tremble, and choking sob that escapes her. She feels thinner, for fuck’s sake. This is not my daughter. This is not who she is. But it is now. This is what he did to her; this is what you failed to see. The guilt threatens to choke me.
“I'm going to start calling some doctors—”
“I don't want a doctor!” She shoves away from me with all the strength in her body, enough to break free of my grasp. “There is nothing a doctor can say to me that will make it better. I only want to forget. I can’t even sleep to escape the nightmare of my life because his memory haunts me. I close my eyes and he is there, his fingers, his body.” The terror in her eyes kills me. “Now I have to worry about this. How am I ever supposed to forget what happened if I know you killed him? If I knew the reason he died was because of me.”
“Okay, I hear you.” I glance at Romero, though he doesn't notice while staring at her. In all the years I’ve known him, he’s been very in tune with hiding his emotions. Although over the last few weeks, that mask seems to have slipped off. Looking at him now, the rage in his eyes mirrors my own, but beneath that rage is something else, something tender. “I won't kill him. Neither will Romero. I'll let him keep his miserable life. Only you have to do something for me. You have to let me help you get through this. You can't just forget it—or else you would have been able to do so by now. Do you understand what I'm saying?”
Her wild eyes dart back and forth between Romero and me, her head appearing to be on a swivel. “I don't believe either of you. It's just another lie on top of a stack of never-ending lies. If I didn't happen to hear this conversation, then I’d bet he would be dead already.”
She’s still sharp. Tatum might be broken, but the pieces of her that are still intact are all there. “That’s not true.”
“Yes, it is. I know you better than that. All you ever do is lie! To me, to Bianca, to everybody you're supposed to care about and want to protect. You lie to protect us. Except you aren’t protecting us, you’re controlling us. Making choices for us, completely disregarding our feelings. I'm sick of it!” I don’t even get the opportunity to speak before she’s whirling around, running from the room. Her broken sobs echo down the hall. There’s nothing I can do to stop her, but no matter what, I have to find a way to get her through this. I can’t lose my daughter. This is merely another reminder of everything slipping through my grasp, and I’m trying to catch them all like grains of sand.
“Please tell me you didn’t mean it?” Romero's question is practically a whisper compared to all the screaming I just endured. “Are you really going to let him live?”
Rage simmers in my veins. “As badly as I want him dead, I can’t risk hurting Tatum further. This might be the last thing holding her to the ground, and I’ll never forgive myself if I was the reason for her complete fracture.” I stare out the door into the hall while my temperature rises and my pulse picks up speed. Slowly I turn my head, meeting his concerned gaze. “That doesn’t mean we can’t draw it out. Just because I won’t kill him doesn’t mean I won’t enjoy every minute of torturing him. By the time I'm finished with him, he’ll be begging for death.”
“It’s what he deserves. I know Tatum doesn’t want his blood on her hands, but if we don’t end his pathetic life, he could hurt others. I refuse to let that happen.”
“Eventually, he’ll die, but my primary focus is helping Tatum heal. In the meantime, we make this fucker suffer.”
The way Romero’s gaze darkens tells me he likes the idea more than ever, but I have to wonder what percentage of what he’s saying is true. Sure, he doesn’t want Kristoff to do this to someone else, but I fully believe he wants to paint the streets with his blood for a very different reason. Is it possible Romero cares deeper for Tatum than I may have thought? I shake the thought away. No, Romero and Tatum despise each other. This is revenge, plain and simple.
