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TINO
What is this room? Angel’s face said, but her mouth remained shut.
We’d been living together for over a year, but I’d never allowed her to know this room even existed. I’d never thought a day would come where she visited it, let alone resided in it indefinitely.
Her nose wrinkled at the smell of dried blood and ash that lingered in the stiff air in spite of the windowless room being scrubbed clean. I turned on the lights, and her brows hooked when her gaze roamed across the walls that were once painted pink but now almost gray. There was an attached bathroom, a bed, chairs, a dresser, even a TV.
And a crib.
A thousand questions jumped to her face, but she only asked them with her glistening, beseeching eyes.
I averted my gaze so that my wrath wouldn’t escalate; every time I looked into her eyes, I wanted to burn the whole world down. “This will be your room for now. You should appreciate it. It’s much better than a cage.”
Her sobs filled the air, but they only made me angrier. She had no right to cry. There was no redemption for her through tears. Only pain. The pain I gave her. “Save your fucking tears for later. When I’m here to cause them, to enjoy them.” I stalked to the door, my jaw clenched so hard it could shatter.
“Where are you going?” she sobbed harder, breaking her silence and my orders.
When I didn’t answer, she ran to me. “When will you be back?”
I went in my way, without even looking at her, and my fists grabbed the doorknobs.
“No. Tino, don’t leave me.” Her little hands curled tight around my leg, holding me in place as she crumbled on the carpet. “Whatever you decide to do, however you want to punish me, I’ll take it. Cut pieces of me. Cover me in piss and shit. Lock me up in a cage for a year. I’ll take it all. You know damn well I will. But don’t leave me.”
I finally looked at her wet, red face. “Look at you. I made you a queen, but your actions bring you to the floor, on your knees, begging like a little whore for the very same man you chose to betray.”
“You think I care if I look like a whore now? Before you made me a queen, haven’t you made me your whore for months? You know I’d be anything, do anything for you. I’m yours, Tino, in any way you see fit. As long as we’re together—”
I grabbed her hair and yanked back until her neck strained hard enough to shut her up. “Shhhhh. No more.”
She managed to shake her head awkwardly. “I didn’t betray you, Tino. Can’t you see? Everything I’ve done was to keep you safe…with me. I couldn’t lose you again. I’d rather die.”
I brought her head closer to mine and locked my gaze with hers, making sure she was looking at me, at the beast she’d longed feared, not the dark protector she desired, when I said, “Too late, Angel. You already lost me. And if you’re lucky enough, I might grant you your wish and let you die.”
CHAPTER FOUR
TINO
Since the day my first wife and my unborn baby girl died, I’d only cried twice. Both of them because of Angel.
Once on the night she was about to marry my own son. The other time was now, as I sat in the darkest corner of Leo’s room, watching my firstborn sleeping off the pain her betrayal caused.
There wasn’t an inch of his body that wasn’t injured or scarred. I could only imagine the visible aches he’d endured but not the ones hidden, marking his soul forever.
The things he’d said to me on the island…
You should have loved me more than you loved her. You should have embraced me, not pushed me away. You should have helped me heal after our loss and used my love to heal you, not searched for consolation somewhere else. You should have been there for me, not fucking replaced me. You should have been my hero instead of playing that role with strangers. You should have seen me. You should have saved me.
Another tear dropped from my eye. Was I that blind with him, too? Did I care for the wrong person and neglect the one that needed me the most?
“I can hear you breathe, and your thoughts are too loud,” Leo said without moving.
I uncrossed my legs and my foot hit the floor with a sigh. “How long have you been awake?”
He rolled slowly and rested on his side facing me. “Since you walked near the door. I heard your footsteps. One stalker to another, you’re getting sloppy, Don Bellomo.”
I wasn’t. I should have thought this through, though. After what he’d seen, he must be wary of every sound, every step, every breath. A whole year of hearing the same footsteps approaching, the hope they weren’t Il Coyote’s, the dread and despair and rage they were.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
