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I rake my fingers through my hair. Fuck me, I'm slayed. I never thought a woman would get under my skin like this. Forsuch a petite thing, she has so much power over me. The thought of her leaving me makes me want to punch the wall, but I rein it in. She's scared. I get it. I've grown up in this world whereas she hasn't.
"OK."
She looks surprised, and dare I say a little disappointed that I'm caving into her demands so easily, but I don't want to bulldoze her. If she says she needs space, then I can give her space. For now.
"Thanks." She averts her eyes and stares at the wall like it's the most fascinating thing in the room. I watch as she twists the sheet and chews her lip. "I should have thanked you for rescuing me," she says in a small voice. "I'm sorry that I..."
"Sorry?" I snap. "You have nothing to be sorry for!" My voice rises and she flinches, but I'm angry that she blames herself. "You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing! Don't ever think that."
"But I feel bad that people probably died because of me."
"The men that died deserved it. They hurt you. Anyone who hurts you, Cara, dies. It's that simple." I'm losing my shit again and it's not helping. I need to calm the fuck down.
"Well thank you for coming to rescue me. I appreciate it."
I've already arranged to pay off her student loans, covered the rest of her tuition fees, and topped up her bank account, so she doesn't need to work in that fucking coffee shop. Herboss wasn't best pleased but a visit from Rico persuaded him he needed to treat his employees better. No woman deserves to be assaulted at work because her boss is too cheap to hire additional staff.
"Have some time away and then we can talk."
She nods and chews her lip some more.
"Thank you."
I'm not sure how I'll cope without her, but I have no choice. If she wants time and space to think, then I will give her that. Just as long as she understands I'm not a patient man. I'm also willing to do whatever it takes to keep her, even if it means I have to fight dirty.
Chapter 19
Cara
Awarm, salty breeze cools my skin as I sit in one of Aunt Jodie's reclining chairs, cocooned under the warm light of a lantern. The deck faces the beach, and in the distance, the waves roll half-heartedly against the shore. It's late evening at the end of another glorious summer day, but I feel nothing.
The book I've been reading for the last week rests in my lap. I haven't managed to get past page 50 yet. Each time I start reading, my mind drifts away and before I know it, several hours have passed. The cup of coffee Jodie brought me earlier sits on the adjacent table, but I've barely touched it.
Normally, I love being here. This is my happy place and I've spent every summer at the beach house in Montauk since I was a baby. Aunt Jodie was always my favorite aunt, the one who let me stay out late and drink beer on the beach with the local boys when I was a teenager. She understood my need to experiment and find my way. Unlike Mom who lost her shit every time I dyed my hair pink or got busted smoking at school.
I thought coming to Montauk, and spending a couple of weeks with Jodie, would help. But all I've done since I got here is mope. I don't want to miss him, but I do. Desperately. Which is fucking ridiculous given we barely know each other. I'm having a hard time understanding how it's possible to fall so calamitously for a man in such a short space of time. This is real life, not some cute instalove romance.
Yet here I am, pining away like a pathetic teenager.
Jodie has noticed, of course. That woman never misses a thing. Not that she's said much other than to let me know she's here if I need to talk.
I sigh.
Maybe it would help if I talked everything through with her. Normally Thalia is my go-to armchair therapist, but she's still on her honeymoon and I can't exactly message her to say I think I'm in love with Christiano but I got kidnapped and then almost unalived, so it's a fucking terrible idea being with him. Answers on a postcard, please.
She'd be mad with me for not telling her the minute it all happened, and then madder still with Christiano for letting it happen. Yeah...no. Besides, if I tell Thalia, she'll tell Salvo, and then the shit really will hit the fan.
Ugh.
Why can't I just forget about the stupid man and his stupid family? Then I could go back to college, continue working at the Java Junction and being a good pet mama to Hamish. I don't need a man in my life, especially not a stupidly hot man who has mad skills in the bedroom.
No, no, no.
"You talking to yourself again, honey?" Jodie's voice jolts me out of my mindless reverie, and I realize my thoughts were not in my head.
"Just ignore me," I mutter, picking up my book and pretending to read it all over again. Pretty sure I've read this sentence five times now.
"Nope, I'm done ignoring you. Time to ‘fess up, Cara, and explain why you got dropped off in a fancy limousine looking like your cat shat in your shoes."
