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"Because we're related. Because you're my…"
She couldn't even bring herself to say it. A blush marred her cheeks as she averted her gaze, embarrassed.
"So what? Do you think I care?" Michele asked, tipping her chin up with one finger. "Do you think I care if we're related, Zia?"
She didn't answer, merely wetting her lips as she looked deep in his eyes.
"It wouldn't have mattered. Were you my blood sister, and I would still have you," he told her unequivocally. "Were you my twin, my fucking double. Even then, I would still have you."
"Why?" she inquired in a soft voice. "Why would you go so far when you only wanted to hurt me—my family… From the beginning, I was nothing but a tool for you. Why would you…"
"Because you're my fucking delirium, Zia. You're my madness, my greatest folly. But you're mine, sweet thing. You'reonlymine," he told her huskily, letting his finger roam around her perfectly sculpted jaw. "You belong to me like no woman ever belonged to a man—utterly and perfectly. You know it. Deep down, you know it," he said as he brought his other hand to her chest, trailing it down to her heart and feeling the uneven beats—the way it beat forhim.
"It's not right," she shook her head. "Nothing about us is right, Michele. You only know how to take, take, take. Only ever take. And the fact that you don't realize what you did to me,beyondlast night, is the issue. You didn't just hurt me. You…crushed me," her voice broke on a whisper.
"Then let me put you back together," he murmured. "Let me gather each part of you I crushed and glue it back together."
He continued to look in her eyes, thinking he was getting somewhere—that he was getting to her.
But as she gave him a tight smile, he saw the truth reflected in her features.
A truth he didn't want to recognize.
He didn't let her reply as he moved back, putting distance between them before he did something worse again—before hehurther again.
"I'll be back," he said, exiting her room and not looking back.
And he would.
He would be back until he got through to her.
Until she told him she loved him again.
He wouldn't rest until he heard those words out of her mouth again.
Then, and only then, would he finally be able to be himself again.
That night, Michele went into the woods, using his bare fingers to unearth the necklace, just as he'd buried it. And laying it against his skin, he understood its meaning for the first time.
FOURTEEN
RAFAELO
Pullingthe suitcases out of the storage, I make a mental note of everything we need to take with us. The faster we're out of here the better. I don't want anything to potentially upset Noelle—not now, nor ever.
My heart is still beating loudly in my chest, the anxiety from before still marring my current happiness.
For fuck's sake, how could I ever forget the fact that one wrong choice could have taken my pretty girl from me? And I wouldn't have been able to blame no one but myself since I would have killed her with my own damn hands.
Releasing a weary sigh, I plop myself on the edge of the bed, bringing my hands to my temples as I attempt to alleviate some of the pressure inside.
Noelle wants me to drop the what-ifs, but I've lived my entire life under the harsh shadow of what could have been that it's already second nature for my mind to stray into that territory.
I'm haunted.
I'm a fucking haunted man.
And it's not justoneevent that has me on edge. It's the sum of everything. All my fucking mistakes that will one day come back and hit me right in the chest.
