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I lift the one corner of the covers for him as I wait for him to make it over to that side.
“Are you going to tell me what’s on your mind?” I ask as he slips in beside me. Our skin brushes against each other, and it’s like the oxygen in the room has been reduced by fifty percent.
My hands go to his shoulders and they feel like boulders. I give them a little pinch, trying to remove the knot.
“No.” He tries to swat my hands away but, like him, I don’t take no for an answer. “Shit, lady, that hurts,” he complains like a big baby.
“Stop complaining and trying to change the subject. Tell me what’s wrong. I don’t stalk you like you do me, so I honestly have no idea.”
He sighs, looking reluctant. “You don’t have to invite me into your bed and pretend to be interested.” He moves to get out but both of my hands pull him back in place.
“Max,” I warn.
“I killed an innocent person today,” he concedes.
My hands stop moving momentarily before I force them to move again. “Were you ordered to?” I question.
His eyes close and his back leans closer to me. “Nope, this one is on me. I fucked up.”
The remorse radiating from him is felt in my every bone. I continue massaging his shoulders in silence. What else is there to say? I can’t say I can condone it, but it seems like Max feels the same way. His shoulders never relax, even when my fingers begin to hurt from all of their work.
I can’t help but feel bad for Max, even when he’s the one who did wrong. “Tell me what happened.” I find myself asking and meaning it.
“It was meant to look like a gas leak.” He shakes his head, pausing. My hands rub at his back, allowing him time to continue. “I know better, it’s not how I do things. The wife was supposed to be out with friends. I even had a visual confirmation, but in the end, it wasn’t her. She was at home with the husband, and the house exploded too early, before I had a chance to make sure it was going to plan.”
“This might not help, but we all choose part of our destiny.” He turns his head, his eyes glued to mine, and it has me pausing, nervous to continue. My pulse speeds up, worried that I might be overstepping our little dynamic we have created.
I gasp when he tilts my face up toward his and turns his body to face mine. “Continue, I can see you want to say more,” he murmurs, his voice soft in contrast to the grip he has on my hip with his other hand.
“She may not have done bad things like her husband, but I don’t know a wife who doesn’t have an idea of what their husbands do. She still stayed, enjoyed the lifestyle he gave her. Sometimes guilt by association is just as bad as the person actually committing the acts themselves. It’s sad, and unfortunate, but ‘innocent’ is too strong a word.” Max leans back and I release his shoulders. I think he might be made of part stone. “I get not being okay with it. It’s moments like those that help define who we are, for better or worse,” I add, before leaning back beside him.
It takes a while before his body begins to relax around me. Naturally, my breathing begins to match his and I drift off to enjoy the best sleep I’ve ever had in my life.
But when I wake, I’m tucked into my sheets and there’s no evidence that he’d even been there the night before. I would almost think I imagined it, but his haunted eyes stay with me. My heart hurts for him and even in the soft light of morning, I wish I could take his pain away.
My hand checks my forehead to see if I have a temperature. It’s neither hot nor cold.
Copy Cat
Ididn’tseethiscoming. Max is getting a soul. He’s going to be the perfect person to place all of our crimes on. I watch him, my lips curled in disgust. He used to be a strong man, one I admired and toured the country for. He’s getting old, growing weak in his age. Pity. I’m almost embarrassed to say I once admired him.
Chapter 15: Sienna
“You’dbelessstressedif you let me do the bookkeeping.” I’ve been working for Dante for six months now, and Max and I are still doing this strange song and dance where he watches me from afar. He hasn’t approached me since that night we shared a bed. I try not to take it personally.
Dante runs a hand through his hair, sighing while leaning into the chair’s back from his once-hunched-over posture.
“You honestly want to be here beyond the hours you’re already putting in? You make no tips with bookkeeping. It’s like getting a demotion.”
“But I’d be getting to use this beautiful brain of mine.” I point to my head.
He’s studying me, his eyes cautious. It seems not trusting people is a Mancini trait. I try to stay casual, not wanting to be too eager, scared he’ll mistake it for anything other than me needing something to do with my free time.
“I’ll give you three days to catch on. If it doesn’t work out, don’t be a chick and take it personally.”
“When I’m better at it than you, don’t go all manly and become brooding and fire me,” I retort.
This brings a grin to his face and he points at me. “This is why I like you.” He shuts his laptop and stands. “Savio, my brother, is having a fight tonight. Come as my plus one.”
