26. Carmie
Chapter 26
Carmie
I t’s like a ritual for me. I head up into my room, close the door, put on cute clothes—tonight it’s a pair of soft shorts, no panties, and a thin cotton t-shirt—and hope that Lev shows up. Lately, I’ve been disappointed and end up falling asleep without that creepy mask appearing in my door. But I still hope anyway.
I feel pathetic like I’m pining after someone that doesn’t give a shit about me. And really, he made it clear from the start how he feels. I’m nothing to him, and if it weren’t for this baby, I don’t think he’d even know I existed.
But for some reason, finding out he knocked me up turned him into a total psychopath.
In a weirdly good way.
I’m starting to think it’s another worthless night. My eyelids flutter and I’m thinking about that fencing gym. I picture myself on the piste, in my stance, balancing my sabre, ready to lunge forward and scream in primal victory. I want to impress Aline more than anything in the world and I don’t even know her.
I don’t know why I crave approval so much.
It was like this with my dad—I was a good little Italian daughter because it made him so happy.
Now I look back and wonder why I cared so much.
There’s a sound in the hallway. I’m sitting up as the door opens. My heart’s racing with surprise—it’s later than he normally appears. But it’s definitely him.
Lev, wearing the fencing mask.
“Get up,” he says. His tone is gruff, almost aggressive. He gathers my kit and throws it at me. There’s nothing gentle or kind in his body language, and he’s dressed for a workout.
For a real workout, not the kind I was expecting.
“What’s going on?”
“We’re going to spar again.” Then he’s gone. I hear him stomp down the stairs, and I have no clue where this sudden anger is coming from.
I’m nervous as I get out of bed and slowly dress. Why does he seem like he’s pissed? He’s usually intense, maybe a little aggressive, but not angry .
This feels different, like I’m walking into a trap.
Only I don’t understand why.
Curiosity and frustration drive me after him. Once I’m geared up, I head down into the basement, doing some light jumps and skips on the way to loosen up.
He’s looming on the piste. There’s no other way to describe it. He’s got a foil in his hand and mine’s lying on the floor ten feet in front of him. I grab my mask from a chair and jam it down before stooping to lift my weapon.
“What are the?—”
He doesn’t even give me a chance to put on my mask. His sword drives at my chest and he’s snarling like a rabid animal. I dance back, parrying his thrust, and get myself set as he recovers.
“I was beginning to think we could do this,” he says, his voice thick and heavy. He’s emotional right now, but I don’t understand why.
“What are you talking about?”
“Maybe we were never going to have a normal relationship. But who the fuck would want that?” His sword slices out. If it were real and sharp, it would cut my throat open. I jerk back, recover my footing, and let out a shout as I press forward.
He moves back as I throw a barrage of jabs and lunges at him, trying to catch him off-guard. I score a few touches, but it doesn’t matter. There are no rules right now. I don’t even understand what we’re doing.
“This is how people get hurt,” I snap at him, finishing my push with a touch on his shoulder.
He whips his foil at me and I have to pull away to keep it from slapping me on the wrist.
“Maybe I want to hurt you. Maybe you should feel the way I feel right now.”
I parry a few quick attacks. “Why are you hurt, Lev? What do you think I did?”
“I wanted to trust you. I really did. A part of me thought this might be good one day even. But now? What’s the point?”
“I don’t even know what the fuck you’re talking about,” I say as he tries to stab me a few times. I let loose a scream of frustration, knock his blade away, and batter him.
This isn’t fencing anymore. It’s more like medieval sword fighting. I whip my blade against him over and over, but his protective jacket absorbs the bulk of my attack. Even if it doesn’t, I don’t think he cares; he simply takes the blows and parries what he can’t.
I lunge, lose my footing from sheer anger, and end up crashing into him. He staggers back and turns me, bringing me down with complete control and ease. As I hit the soft floor, I realize this is his domain; without the swords, I’m nothing to him.
He could break me.
His knee pins my wrist down. I try to punch him, but he catches my fist and pushes it up above my head. With his free hand, he rips his mask off and throws it aside.
This is new. He’s never done this before. Even deep in passion, he hasn’t taken off his mask. But now he’s staring down at me, face bare, eyes hard and filled with hurt, and I don’t even understand what’s going on.
“I found it,” he says, whispering harshly. “Do you even know what kind of game you’re playing? Do you have any idea what my father will do to you once he’s finished?”
“Your father?” My face screws up in confusion. “What’s he got to do with anything?”
Then I remember. The ride home. The conversation.
The card he gave me.
Lev pulls it from a pocket in his pants and drops it on my chest. For a second, I think he’s going to hit me in the face, break my nose, bloody me, and bruise me.
Instead, he releases my hand and gets up, freeing my sword arm.
I sit up on an elbow, breathing hard. Nothing hurts, even though it could. I lift the card up and stare at it before looking back at him.
“You don’t understand,” I say, but he’s turning away already.
“Have you been his little spy this whole time? Have you been taking notes for him? Was any of this even real?”
“Lev, hold on.” I push myself to my feet. I shove my mask to the floor and shake my gloves off. “He only gave me that today. I swear, I never?—”
He’s not looking at me as he starts to walk to the steps. “I’m glad you never took me up on my offer. This would’ve been worse if you had agreed to sleep in my bed.” He pauses and looks back at me. “At least you didn’t sink that low.”
“Lev,” I say, pulse racing. “Just hold on and listen for a second.”
He leaves me there alone.
I think about going after him, but that last look was haunted. It was also terrifying, like he was barely in control of himself.
And if I’m honest, I’m afraid of what he might do if I step foot in his room right now.
I’m trembling as I gather my things and head to bed.
Sleep’s not coming easy tonight.