Chapter 18
MATTEO
We followed the women out into the garden, cutting through the tall grass and brambles that kept getting caught on my pants and shoes.
I didn’t even want to think of all the creatures and crawlers that live in this forest Ferro calls his garden.
But he was like a man possessed, wading through it like it was nothing.
Goldie and Chiara couldn’t see us as they sat down at the fountain.
But they knew we must’ve been there, listening.
Goldie whispered, so all I could hear was the soft melody of her voice, not the words.
But Chiara practically shouted, and Ferro was getting more and more agitated with the things she was saying, color rising in his pale face, which never happens.
In the end he just stormed in and dragged Chiara away after she said she’d destroy him.
If I wanted to be hopeful, I’d say Ferro was in love with her and that’s why he couldn’t stand hearing her hateful words.
But nothing I’ve seen or heard about the guy suggests he’s a loving man.
So she’ll probably get punished severely.
And I tried not to think about that as I led Goldie back into the house.
The other guards kept their distance, but I could hear them grumbling.
Like I can hear them grumbling all the time.
They think the Codelli women are bad for us because they’re cursed and because we’re paying too much attention to them.
Some are even going as far as saying we’re not advancing Ferro’s plans like we should be because they’re here.
Nico stopped me in the hall this morning, whispering something to the effect that some are pushing to get rid of them.
I couldn’t listen to that.
All I could see in front of my eyes was Goldie’s smiling face—kinda shy, very pure. Impossible to forget. Impossible to let go. And seeing her outside now, surrounded by nature like the night she came to me, the ocean whooshing in the distance… all I could think was that I want more of that.
“What’s going to happen to Chiara now?” she asks once we reach our room, which smells as bad as the basement to me after the pleasant scents of the garden.
“I don’t know,” I answer truthfully and got to open one of the large windows.
My answer makes her shake. But then she visibly composes herself, steeling her face, scrunching up her shoulders, wrapping her arms over her chest.
“Get dressed, I’m taking you out,” I say.
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“It’s not a request,” I say and walk to the wardrobe. “And wear something pretty.”
I open the wardrobe, where a few dresses are scattered at the bottom of it. She must’ve tossed those out of the bag of clothes I got for her while looking for the stupid black stuff she insists on wearing. I wish that pretty gold dress she wore on the beach was here too.
“No.”
She’s standing by the open window now, her arms wrapped even tighter over her chest.
I can’t leave her in this room. She’s like one of those pretty birds kept in small cages in here. She should fly free, because she’s withering away in here. That’s what I was thinking out in the garden today, but I only now have the words to describe it.
I walk to her and grab her arms. “You wanted freedom. I can give you that. If you don’t fight me.”
She scoffs. “Freedom? Is that what this is? Let me go then.”
The words hit me like shards of glass, which I’m sure is how she intended it. But no more.
“Get dressed. Now.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then I’m taking you out just as you are.”
She just stands there looking at me with those shards of glass in her eyes, ready to be flung. At least there’s some life left in her. Gotta make sure it doesn’t wither away.
She’s not moving though. Not doing as I told her.
I’ll give her to the count of ten, which I perform silently in my head.
“Fine, have it your way,” I say when I get to five.
Then I take her arm and lead her out of the room, down the stairs and straight to Nico’s Lambo parked in the garage.
He left the keys in it when we returned from our coke run the other day and they’re luckily still there. Because otherwise I don’t know what I’d do. Probably carry her to the nearest restaurant.
“Where you going?” the guy on the gate asks, looking at Goldie with really big eyes.
“We’ll be back.”
Thankfully he doesn’t argue, just opens the gate for us. But the whole exchange is a stark reminder that I neither have permission nor a plan for what happens next.
I just want Goldie all to myself. Away from Ferro and what I did to her family. On a date, just like the ones she arranged for us. On the beach where I wasn’t this monster she thinks I am now.
Something like that.
Most of all I just want to see the wind in her hair and the sunset in her eyes and to taste her.
And if Ferro asks tomorrow, I’ll tell him I wanted to get her away from the house to soften her up so she’d tell me where she thinks her family is hiding. But that’ll mostly be a lie. I just want the above three things and then I don’t care what happens after.
Maybe not my smartest move, but there it is.