Chapter 14
I promised Robby we’d attempt to make the highest tower we can from the big blocks Ms. Greco got him. We decided to build it in the spacious hallway upstairs. That way there isn’t a mess if my father comes home early.
These days, he likes to surprise me. I think he does it on purpose, wanting to catch me doing something I’m not supposed to.
Ms. Greco’s downstairs making chicken parmesan for dinner before the almighty lord arrives and demands his plate.
“It’s as big as me now!” Robby shouts excitedly.
My eyes widen and I grin. “We should make it even bigger!”
“Yay!” He claps, skipping toward the bag full of blocks, and bringing them over, placing one on top of the others.
We continue building for a few minutes longer when the front door opens with a creak before slamming shut. I gasp, any breathable air evaporating from my lungs.
“I’m sorry, Robby,” I whisper. “We have to clean up quickly.”
“But I wanna play,” he whines, while my quivering hands start taking off the blocks as fast as possible, throwing them into the bag. If my father sees this, he’ll be furious.
“I know you do,” I say quietly. “But we can play later, okay?”
“No!” he cries with a scream, stomping both feet so hard, the floor shakes. “I want to play!”
“What the hell is that noise?” My father storms up, and my pulse races, blocks slipping from my fingers as my entire body rattles.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” he shouts as he reaches the top step. “What the hell did I tell you about making a fucking mess of this house?”
Robby’s eyes pop wide and he runs into our room and shuts the door. Thank goodness.
“I was cleaning it,” I tell him, trying to remove every damn block, timidly glancing up, my heart ripping out of my chest and riding up my throat.
“This is what you call clean?” He stomps closer, kicking the rest of the tower, blocks scattering everywhere.
“I’m so fucking sick of you and your disrespect,” he grits, crouching down until we’re face-to-face, his hand reaching for my neck, tightening his fingers until my skin burns with a violent ache. “You’re more trouble than you’ve ever been worth.”
My breaths heave, my throat in agonizing pain, but he only clutches tighter.
“I should’ve gotten rid of you when I had the chance.” And still, after all these years, his rejection of me hurts. To know I never meant a thing to him.
I blink back tears that swim deep in my eyes, staring at him, wondering what I ever did to make him hate me this much.
“I’m your daughter,” I barely manage to breathe out.
“Daughter.” He snickers, finally releasing me, standing straighter, while I pant.
“Clean this mess up and go serve me my food when you’re done,” he throws out calmly before walking away from me like he’s done my whole life.
MATTEO - AGE 19
I was about to fall asleep when the door creaks. Those bastards had me training late, then killing two others. I often wonder how good it’d feel to use those weapons on myself instead, but then she stops me.
Aida.
When those thoughts hit me, it’s like she knows, jumping into my mind as though she’s there, begging me to stay, to love her even when it’s hard.
And I do. I love her so goddamn much, I’d raze the world to see her smile. But lately, she’s been drowning with the weight of her father’s cruelty. And fuck, I want to murder him for the way he treats her. He deserves to die painfully. Slowly. And he will. We will rise.
But with every damn year, I fail to convince myself that I’ll ever kill him. But I can’t give up either. I gotta believe it’ll happen.
One day.
“Aida? Is that you?”
She doesn’t answer, but I can tell it’s her from the way she moves over the stairs, so elegantly. She lets out a sniffle and the muscles in my entire body instantly harden as I rise to my feet.
“What happened?”
She appears, tears streaking down her cheeks, her neck an angry red.
I inhale a fiery breath. “Did he do that?” I snap, my tone razor sharp. “Did he fucking hurt you?”
She nods slowly, her chest rising and falling with gasping exhales.
Fuuuck!
“Come here. Let me hold you.” Because that’s all I can do. She rushes into my arms, her fingers clasping the back of my neck as she cries.
Even with the amount of rage that’s in me right now, for her, I soften. Because she needs me that way. I lower us onto the mattress, and instead of sitting beside me, she straddles my thighs, crying into the crook of my neck.
My hand brushes up her back, my fingers threading into the long, waves of her silky hair. “I’ve got you. I’m right here. I’ll never leave you, not if I can help it.”
She draws back, a palm curling over my cheek. The way her tear-filled gaze delves into mine, I can’t help the intense feelings surging through me. There are so many of them and they hit me all at once.
I love her.
My breaths labor out of me, each one more difficult than the last.
My cock stiffens, even while I don’t want it to. She’s upset. How could I get hard now? I try to maneuver her, so she doesn’t feel it, but when I attempt to, she pushes her hips deeper into it.
“Fuck, Aida…please don’t,” I plead, my voice hoarse, desperate. For her. We’ve never done that. Damn, if I didn’t think about it constantly, but the way our life is, it’s not possible. “We can’t do this here.”
“Why not?” she whispers, her brows bowing. “I want my first time to be with you.”
And that confession, that no one has been with her, it wrecks me. Because I want that too, for her to be my first. Yet I know it’ll probably never happen, that her first time will be with someone else.
It has to be.
Damn, does that realization hurt like hell.
“Because you deserve more than this mattress. You deserve someone who can give you more than I can.” I swallow against the lump buried in my throat.
“I don’t want more. I want you.” Her palm clasps tighter over my cheek, her eyes glistening. “It’s always been you, Matteo. That’ll never stop.”
My heart shatters because it can’t be me.
In our years together, we’ve never discussed her dating or getting married to someone else.
She’s never brought it up, and I was too afraid to.
But soon enough, even with her being locked up here, in this prison, her father will eventually want her to marry some asshole, right?
And I’ll probably still be here. Or dead.
I curl my fist at my side.
I can’t think about not being around and leaving her alone in this world where nothing good happens.
But she and I, we aren’t destined for each other. It’s the truth I’ll carry with me because I can’t break her heart and say those words out loud.
Nothing about us is normal. Stolen kisses every day, hand holding and tender touches, that’s what we’ve been.
But now as we’ve gotten older, things have changed. Our bodies have too. And goddamn, I may not know what the hell to do, but as she rocks her hips against my cock, I have the urge to rip off her clothes and pretend I do.
“Matteo,” she whispers, her arms draped around my neck. Her lips tentatively reach for the corner of my mouth, kissing softly as I groan, both of my hands spilling in her hair, my fingers tightening around the weight of it, pushing her further into my straining hard-on.
In all this time, neither of us has told the other that we love them. I don’t know if she feels it like I do, like she’s embedded in the marrow of my soul, but I feel it. Every damn day. Like she was born to be mine.
I’ve been afraid to tell her. Not because she’d reject me, but because I never saw the point in confessing it when there’s nothing we can do about it. That’s always been my fear. Feeling the weight of our love and not living it.
But now, with the way she looks at me, I realize I had it all wrong. We may not be able to love each other the way others do, out in the world, but we can love each other here. Our way. However long we have. I’ll love her always. Until I can’t. Until my heart stops beating.
It’s then I realize, maybe we can find these small moments of love in between fragments of tragedy, like they’re actually there, reminding us they still exist.
“Aida,” I growl, fisting her hair as I find her mouth, kissing her desperately, my lips moving in sync with hers as she grinds over me, my cock throbbing, wanting to know what it feels like to be that connected with her body and her heart.
My tongue sinks into her mouth, teasing the tip of hers. Damn, this feels so good. Like it’s right. The way it’s supposed to be.
Her moans only give me more courage, and I suck on her lower lip while her hips ride circles over me. I’m aching to be inside her, wanting to show her just how much she means to me.
I move a fraction, cupping her cheek in the palm of my hand, finding those heavy-lidded eyes.
“I love you, Aida. So damn much.” She gasps, her brows snapping.
“I’m sorry I never told you sooner, because I’ve wanted to.
So badly.” I push her forehead against mine, her hot breaths rushing past my lips.
“I’ve loved you before I even knew what that word meant.
” I pull away, needing to look at her. “And if it weren’t for you, I’d have died a thousand times over.
” Her eyes gleam with a fresh coat of tears, her hand resting against my neck, my pulse speeding even more.
“You’re the only one keeping me here, and I’m not sorry about it.
Because for you, I’d endure all the torture in the world. Because you’re worth it.”
Her chest rattles as her arms jump around my neck, her face burrowing in my shoulder as she cries, her body swaying with emotion.
“I love you too, Matteo,” she pants, looking back at me. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it either. I think I was afraid you didn’t feel the same, that you didn’t think of me that way. That I wasn’t…”
“Wasn’t what?” My eyes widen.
“Wasn’t pretty enough.” She lowers her gaze, those auburn lashes fluttering.
“Aida…” I give her a tiny smirk, lifting her chin up with my index finger. “How many times do I have to prove to you that I think you’re the most beautiful girl in the world? Why the hell would I kiss you the way I do if I didn’t think you were pretty?”
She shrugs with a small smile. “Because you’re bored?”
“I’m not that bored.” I chuckle, leaning my lips forward, kissing her forehead. “But you couldn’t be more wrong. I’m very much into you.” My voice lowers. “Or I wouldn’t be hard right now.”
She bites into her bottom lip with a gasp, palms against my chest, her breathing growing tattered.
“You’re perfect. Not just for me. For anyone. And I’ll always love you, even when I’m not here to do it.”
“Don’t say that,” she cries, laying her lips to mine, peppering my mouth, my face, with more kisses than I can count.
I smile, the warmth filling my veins like only she can provide.
“I don’t ever want to think about you being gone.
Okay?” She gazes back at me. “I want to think about us old and wrinkly together.”
I chuckle. “Am I still cute when I’m old?”
She scrunches her face. “Who said you were cute?”
“Wow.” My body rouses with deep laughter as hers does too. I flip her over, pinning her underneath me, and I kiss her some more.