Chapter Fifty-Four Larissa
Chapter Fifty-Four
LARISSA
“COME BACK TO me, little mobster,” Tyler implores, his voice distant as I faintly register the sweep of his thumb along my jaw.
Dwelling numbly inside the void as his gentle murmurs continually summon me.
“Baby, can you hear me? … Larissa? … Fuck.” His pained exhale hits my neck as a light vibration rumbles beneath my thigh.
Palming me securely to his chest, he shifts beneath me, his voice a world away when he speaks.
“Tula … she’s with me … and Alonzo?” A curse, a breath of relief.
“Okay, thanks … the church … I’ll be there. ”
I feel the thump of the discarded phone on the cushion next to us, becoming increasingly aware of my surroundings while losing grip on the refuge I’ve begun to cling to.
I sink further into the man cradling me as his soothing scent fills my nose.
His gentle touch and words coaxing me gradually back with every breath I draw.
It’s the comfort he’s giving which triggers me to remember why I’m straddling the line …
until Iggy’s echoing rage sends a shock wave of awareness through me, ripping me entirely from my blissful oblivion.
Agony lances through me, sending a burn straight to my eyes as a pained whimper rattles my throat.
Tyler stills beneath me at the sound before whisking the tear gliding down my temple away with soft lips.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers gutturally. “I’m so sorry.
I would give anything to erase what happened. ”
Dipping, he presses apologetic kisses to my forehead and my cheeks as awareness and pain continue to blur him from view.
When I finally blink my eyes clear, they focus first on the creases of worry in his expression before fixing on the eyes peering back at me.
It’s the reality of what’s transpired, of what it means, that has panic threatening as I fully come to.
The instant he sees it, he grips me tighter, whispering feverishly to calm me.
“They’re fine. They’re with Daniello and Taylor.
They’re safe. Tula just called. Iggy’s sedated and sleeping.
Alonzo got to him in time. Iggy nicked him, but he’s fine. It’s over for now. I promise.”
“How long was I …?” I don’t bother to clarify the question.
“Not long, about half an hour, but it felt like fucking forever,” he reports somberly, running his fingers through my hair. “I can’t imagine what you’re feeling, but I promise everyone is safe. It’s over.”
Moving slowly to sit, his palms settle on my hips as I realize we’re in my villa.
As I look around, searching every corner, every inch is the same as it was when I left it, yet I sense something vital is missing.
After a moment, I realize the comfort I typically draw from my home is now evading me.
The fact that it’s been stripped, fucking stolen, sends a spike of anger straight to the forefront of my surfacing emotions.
“It’s so far from fucking over,” I scoff, his stare heavy as he hesitantly releases me to stand. Shaky on my feet, panic and fury begin rising like a tide. “And because I’m donna, and you are who you are, it never will be!”
Emotions begin to bubble up one by one, and I try my best to battle each as they come. Paranoia at the forefront as my mind starts to race with possible scenarios. The gravity of what just happened—is still happening—hitting me fully as I begin to pace.
“You feel violated,” Tyler interjects carefully, “and that’s completely understandable, but you are safe, Larissa. I promise.”
“Safe,” I mock. “Was I safe this morning?”
“Yes,” he affirms confidently.
“You’re fooling no one, and it’s time I stop fooling myself. I mean, what the fuck was I thinking? That just because I put a bullet in my father, that somehow my life would become more peaceful? That my children could ever be safe?”
“It has, and they are,” he asserts more firmly. “And that will remain the case.”
“And how would you know?” I snap. “You’ve been here collectively for weeks, but you don’t know what I battle every damned day!”
“Then tell me,” he urges, taking a step toward me. “Because I want to know.”
“I’m a fucking donna!” I shout. “Donnas don’t get maternity leave!” Grabbing a nearby vase, I hurl it against the wall as wrath begins to fill my veins. “And I’ve been so distracted trying to—” I glare over at him.
“Trying to what?”
“Why can’t I let go of this stupid fucking dream? Of living some semblance of normal? A life of real substance. God, I’m such a fool!”
“You’re far from it, and it’s possible. We’ll make it possible.”
“How can I with who I am?! Were you not just there? My own fucking brother thinks I’m a monster and wants me dead! Iggy—” My voice cracks as I shake my head, refusing the tears. “Maybe he’s right.”
“He’s not,” he declares vehemently.
“No? Am I not fucking the man who covered up my brother’s murder, or caring for a woman who most likely knew what was happening in that house? She didn’t go crazy because he cheated, Tyler. We both know that. Where are the lies in Iggy’s accusations? You and I both know they’re the fucking truth!”
“You’re too smart for this. This is what he wants, but he’s not fucking getting it,” he stamps out. “Ever.”
“You were right to give up,” I continue. “There’s no changing the evil of this world. It’s a pointless fight. I’m the evil.” I shake my head. “How could I truly blame you if you had pulled that fucking trigger?”
“Larissa—”
“Because no matter what I do, it finds me. It always finds me, forcing me to participate! Forcing me to become someone I never wanted to be! Who am I to think I can stop this sickness that’s in my fucking blood?
” I stop mid-rant and shake my head. “We don’t have time for this.
What does it matter what life I want? It never has. ”
“It matters to me,” he says, stepping up to me and forcing me to face him, and I back away, shaking my head.
“No, it doesn’t matter, and I can’t let it.
I refuse to let my personal fucking delusions overshadow my job any longer.
And I don’t have time for any more of this melodrama with you.
” His eyes dim as I turn, stalking over to my large armoire and jerking the doors open.
Scanning the wall of guns, I pluck two and begin loading them.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to pinpoint and put a bullet in the head of the fucking liar who helped endanger our children and then hunt the monster responsible for poisoning my brother against me. When did you know?” I demand as I start to load bullets.
“Larissa, listen to me. You’re safe, Alexander and Macey are safe—”
“We both know there’s no such thing!” I slam the magazine in. “And I’m not waiting for something else to happen! Those days are fucking over.”
“I’m not waiting either.” His voice draws near.
“Yeah? Then what are you doing? We both know he’s infiltrated us, and here, Tyler, here, in the one place I was certain we could keep them safe! We can’t fucking trust anyone!”
“That’s your pain talking,” he reasons.
“Answer me!” I shout. “When did you know?”
Silence … then: “I suspected the second you dropped that bottle, and came up with a strategy, but it wasn’t concrete because I wasn’t sure when he would strike, or where.
At first, I thought it could be when Tommaso walks Cosima, but second-guessed, thinking tactically—if I was going to make a move, it would be when the guards were being interrogated, to use that time while they were occupied to my advantage. ”
“Forever utilizing that tactical thinking,” I ridicule.
“That’s right,” he counters unapologetically, “because I’m aware of every threat at all times, no matter my emotional state, and you know this.”
“Don’t I?” I mock as his chest hits my back, his arms encasing me as his whisper reaches me.
“Baby, please don’t let him win. This is what he wants.”
“I’m not your baby.” I shrug his touch away, and he hesitantly allows it, taking a step back as I continue loading more guns. “If you were already there, why did Iggy get so fucking close to my mother with that blade?”
His prolonged silence forces me to glance back in demand of my answer as I slam a loaded magazine into another gun.
“We wanted to try and get him agitated enough to slip and reveal which guard helped him get that bottle in and unlock the doors”—he rakes my face warily—“because we’d already decided if we couldn’t reason with him, he was never getting to her.”
When he sees the rage spark in my eyes, he holds a defensive palm up.
“Alexander and Macey take priority and always will. Before this went down, I had already decided to try to help Iggy because I knew how much his recovery meant to you. But I can’t and won’t take any chances with them, or you. Fucking ever. No matter who it is.”
Sorting through his logic as I continue arming up, I find myself reasoning that his judgment is the same as my own and voice the bitter truth. “We both know he’s lost to me.”
“He’s young, and impressionable, and very, very sick, which is why Antony used him.” He swallows. “And we both knew something was coming, which is why we need to talk. I have a confession to make.” His tone grows more solemn. “Several confessions, actually.”
“They’re going to have to wait until we find that fucking guard. We’ve already lost too much time. We can’t stay here unless we find him!”
“Larissa, listen to me, you’re safe—”
I reel on him. “I spent eight years of my fucking life fighting to get back to him, to you, and for what?” I shout. “For what!?”