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She wanted to see me.
I stood still for a moment, my heart beating in my throat, before I limped up to the door and went inside.
eight
Emilia
The storeroom door easedopen, and I knew who it was without having to turn around. I had propped the brick in place night after night, simultaneously dreading and hoping for the moment when he would come. The weight of his presence settled in the doorway behind me, and I felt him watching me as I scrambled to temper my emotions. The silence stretched to the point of breaking.
"Hey," Alfie said finally.
I didn't answer. I didn't trust my voice. I tried to keep my attention focused on the shelf in front of me, but I couldn't ignore the painful squeeze of my heart. I'd spent the last week replaying that night in my head, imagining what might have happened if even one thing had gone differently.
"Emilia?"
His warmth radiated behind me, close but not touching. I turned around.
The sight of him broke my heart. He looked terrible. His eyes were glassy and dulled by painkillers, his tattoos a sharp contrast against too pale skin. It had only been a few days, but Alfie looked like he'd lost weight, his face drawn. He leaned heavily against the wall, favoring his left leg.
Angel had done that to him.
My stepbrother had pulled the trigger, but it was my fault.
"What are you doing here?" I tried to keep my voice even, but it didn’t work.
"Needed to see you," he said, his voice strained as he fought against the pain. "Couldn't stand the thought of you being in danger."
"I wasn’t the one who was shot," I whispered, my fingers brushing lightly over the bandages wrapped around his leg.
"Doesn't matter," he replied, reaching out to touch my cheek. "All that matters is that you're safe."
"How's your leg," I asked softly.
"Looks worse than it is. I can't take one more day cooped up in bed." Alfie shook his head. "Are you okay? I don't remember much after Luca showed up."
Luca. I bit back a laugh that threatened to turn into a sob. Luca hadn't said a single thing to me after returning to the compound, but the look in his eyes told me he wouldn't hesitate to finish the job Angel had started. Even Sofia was giving me a wide berth ever since that night. Lying to them was bad enough--the evidence of it in their faces was even worse.
I turned back to the box of books I was unpacking. I couldn't look at him right now. "I'm all right. Sofia and Luca covered for me. Dom's still raging, of course, but nobody suspects anything. Angel doesn't know who you really are."
"That's not what I meant." Alfie ducked down, trying to make eye contact. "I meant, are you okay with...everything that happened?"
A book slammed down on the table harder than I intended. "I'm fine."
I closed my eyes, fighting the swell of emotions. I'd spent the past week thinking of little else, but it didn't change the facts. Alfie and I couldn't be together, not if he wanted to stay alive. He didn't deserve to be dragged into my family's mess, even if it broke my heart to let him go.
I took a deep, shuddering breath. "I can't do this. We can't do this."
"What? Why?"
The look on his face nearly broke me. I didn't think I'd be able to stop myself from falling into his arms again. I kept my eyes on the shelf. "Don't make this harder than it already is."
"Emilia, please."
My chest ached. "You almost died that night, Alfie. If Luca hadn't found us, if Angel had decided to take another shot, he would have killed you. Do you know how scared I was? I thought I'd lost you before I'd even had the chance to really have you."
"But I didn't."
"This time. What about next time? Or the time after that? How long until they catch on that we've been seeing each other? How long before my family puts two and two together? They'll kill you, Alfie. They'll kill you, and it'll be my fault, and I can't live with that." I closed my eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath, fighting against the tears. "I'm sorry."
