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Cold fury laces my tone. “Apologize to Sabella, not to me.”
Roch turns to her, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you and said things I didn’t mean.” He lifts his gaze to me. “I’ve been on babysitting duty for two and a half years.”
“You’re relieved of it,” I say, grinding my teeth.
“Angelo.” He raises his hands. “Mr. Russo. Two and a half years without a break.”
“Do not try to justify your actions.” Each word is measured. “Get the fuck out of my sight before I kill you.”
He ducks his head, pushes the boat back into the water, and jumps inside.
Sweeping Sabella into my arms, I hurry with her to the shelter of the cave. The engine of the boat sounds when I reach the rock enclosure, but I don’t bother to look back. I sit, pulling her onto my lap.
“Get away from me,” she says, trying to break out of the cage of my arms.
I rub her biceps through my jacket. “You need to get warm.”
“What I need is for you to stop touching me,” she screams, finally managing to scurry off my lap.
She lands on all fours, my jacket slipping off her shoulders. I reach for her ankle, but she claws her way like a crab through the sand to the other side of the cave and pushes her back against the wall. There, she sits shivering, watching me with a terrified expression.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” I raise my hands in a placating gesture. “I already told you that.”
She spits the word at me. “But?”
I make to move. “But you need to get warm.”
She flattens herself against the rock. “Stay away from me.”
“Sabella.” Frustration rides on my words. “I want to help.”
“Help?” She utters an ugly laugh. “Like you helped my dad?”
A sob racks her shoulders.
Using my most reasonable voice, I say, “You know why it had to be done.” I don’t want to mention my mother or my sister. I don’t want those memories to cloud my judgment with anger. Not now. Not now that she needs me.
Her accusation bounces off the roof of the cave. “I can’t even go to the police. You must be fucking ecstatic about that.”
“I’m not ecstatic about anything.”
I try to advance again, but she shakes her head so vehemently that wet tendrils of her hair stick to her cheeks.
My patience is running out. I make myself stern. “Be reasonable, Sabella.”
“Reasonable?” She laughs again. “Why? Because you’re so reasonable, you heartless, deceitful, murdering son of a bitch?”
I grit my teeth at the insults, but I let them slide. After all, I earned every name she called me. “You’ll catch pneumonia.”
Her upper lip curls. “Like you care.”
“You know I do.”
Her tone is biting. “Is that why you came to the hospital?” Then sarcastic as her volume rises again. “Because you cared? No, wait. It was only to shave me. You’re a sick pervert.”
“I wanted to see my mark.” As if the thought alone is a magnet, my gaze is drawn to her lower body. “It healed nicely. Very pretty.” And like the pervert she accused me of being, that thought makes me hard.
She picks up a handful of sand and throws it at my face. “Go fuck yourself.”
