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"Thank you," I say to her. She doesn't say anything back. Instead, she just looks into my eyes and then nods.
I leave the convent, the cold air outside biting at my face as I walk to my car. The massive figure becomes smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror as I drive away, my heart heavy with the knowledge that I may never see Raven again.
All I can do now is hope – hope that she finds peace and happiness, even if it means a life without me. As I head back to the mansion, the low hum of the car's engine is drowned out by the music on the radio, Linger by the Cranberries. It's mournful melody echoes the emptiness in my chest.
"I'm in love, and always will be."
ChapterForty-Five
"You’re completely useless right now," Consty growls, glaring at the mess I was supposed to be cleaning up. I'm slumped on the cold, concrete floor of the warehouse, clutching a blood-soaked sponge like it's a teddy bear. I squint up at him, trying to blink away the haze clouding my vision. "Why are you here?" I ask, my voice cracking.
"Because your partner told me we had a problem," he snaps, his dark eyes narrowing. "And you're the problem." I sigh, feeling the weight of defeat press down on my chest. Normally, I'd give my partner hell for ratting me out, but I can't even remember who's on this job with me tonight. It's 3 in the morning, my Walkman's sitting useless in the van, and the emptiness around me is a perfect reflection of the void swallowing my heart.
"Alright, get up," Consty orders, his voice grating on my nerves. He motions to someone else in the room - I guess he brought backup. "Go ahead and finish the job."
"Alright boss," the random guy says, stepping forward with an obnoxious grin plastered on his face. I hate him already. Consty hauls me to my feet, steadying me as my legs threaten to buckle beneath me. He guides me out of the warehouse and shoves me into his car like I'm some sort of inconvenience.
"I can do it, I can finish the job," I protest weakly, desperate for something to focus on other than the pain ripping through my chest. Consty laughs, a bitter sound that makes me flinch.
"I don’t want you anywhere near a crime scene right now," he says, turning the ignition key. "We absolutely cannot have any indication of our involvement otherwise we’re fucked.”
I find myself not caring about the consequences, consumed by the ache left in Raven's absence. I know Constantino’s started a full-blown war amongst the families in the city - us Italians and the Irish at the center of it.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says, driving down the empty streets.
"Where are we going?" I demand, too exhausted to keep up the facade of indifference.
"I’m dropping you back at the house because you need sleep and you need to get your shit in order.” The thought of returning to the place where Raven and I were happy once, and where I ruined everything, makes me physically ill.
"Don’t do that," I beg him, my voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t want to be alone."
"Oh God, stop being such a pussy," Consty snaps, his patience wearing thin. He reaches into the backseat and grabs a handle of whiskey, shoving it into my hands. "Here." My fingers wrap around the cold glass.
"Nah," I say, eyeing the whiskey in my hand as if it has the power to mend my broken heart. Consty pops the top off and shoves it back into my hands. "Drink," he orders. "It'll help."
I take a swig, my throat burning from the liquid fire, and cough. "There's no helping this," I mutter, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
Tino rolls his eyes, clearly annoyed by my self-pity. "It's a girl," he says dismissively. "There'll be another one."
"Not like her," I insist, images of Raven's beautiful face haunting me.
He shakes his head, exasperated. "Yes, like her. And you know what?" He adds, gripping the steering wheel tightly, "I hope there's not another one like her because you fucking lost your mind over this girl."
"She's all I ever wanted," I say, feeling the weight of my words deep in my chest.
"You just don't know what's out there," Consty replies, his voice cold and detached. "I've been all over. Trust me. You'll get over her. Move on. And forget she ever existed."
"Is that what happened to you?" I ask.
He barks out a laugh. "No. Thank fuck I've never fallen under the influence of that specific drug." As he pulls into the driveway of the mansion, he hits the button to unlock the doors. "Get out. Go sleep. Get your shit together."
"Gee, thanks for the pep talk," I say sarcastically, my hand still clutching the bottle of whiskey.
"If you want a hand job, hire a prostitute," he laughs cruelly. "I'm not here to make you feel good."
I close the car door, and he zooms off, leaving me standing in the cold morning air. I make my way back into the mansion, the whiskey bottle my only companion. Swig after swig, I drown myself in the golden poison, losing track of time and how much I've consumed. Pretty sure I've blacked out a few times.
The sun's coming up, casting a weak light through the mansion windows. It must have been hours that I've just been drinking and wandering around, consumed by my thoughts and unable to sleep. I finally find a room with a bed and crash down onto it, the alcohol spilling from the bottle onto my clothes. I should care, but there's no energy left for that these days.
