Chapter 14 #2
She stares at me through unfocused eyes, and I recognize that vacant look on her face. She’s overwhelmed and shutting down, and she doesn’t even seem to register that Beppe is pressed against her leg.
It takes me a few seconds to sit up, and Gabi’s hands fall away from me as I do.
I guide Beppe to a different spot, giving me space to pull her closer. She lets me reposition her body, stretching her out and rolling her onto her side to face me.
Once she’s settled, Beppe curls up against her back, and I wrap my arm around her waist, tucking her against me.
A silent tear tracks down her face, and I know she’s probably remembering that day at the fair.
It isn’t something I think about often, because there isn’t much I remember about the lightning strike.
There are pieces, but they don’t fit together, and the thing I remember most is Gabi’s voice.
The way she cried for me, begging me not to leave her.
That was the last thing I heard before they took me away.
There was a certain irony to the fact that I swore I’d come back to her. I just didn’t know at the time it wouldn’t matter that I did. I may as well have died that day for all the good my survival did me.
It leaves a bitter taste in my mouth every time I think about that initial relief. Everybody was so happy that I’d made it, until they saw what I’d become.
That first year was the worst. I’d fly into uncontrollable rages I barely even remembered, destroying anything in my path.
I couldn’t even explain why they happened.
My brain would flip a switch without warning, and I couldn’t control the drastic swings.
I spent most of those twelve months heavily medicated, living in a dark room at a facility because it hurt too much to live in the light.
When I wasn’t drugged, I was either thinking about or attempting to end it almost every second of every day.
I’d stare at the pictures of Gabi and my family on the wall, thinking about how they’d all be better off. Then I’d get angry that I hadn’t just stayed dead that day. They wouldn’t have been given hope, only to have it snatched away when they saw the monster who’d come back in my likeness.
I was full of rage back then, but not once during those years I spent locked away did I ever think it was Gabi’s fault.
I never blamed her for what happened, but I can see now that it doesn’t matter.
She blamed herself enough for both of us.
As she trembles in my arms, trapped in the memories of the past, it’s never been more obvious how badly I’ve fucked this up. She’s carried this far too long.
Forgetting every self-imposed rule I’ve ever made, I brush away her tears and stroke her face.
“Come back to me,” I whisper, pulling her closer.
Slowly, she turns to look at me, pain clouding her eyes as they meet mine.
“You have to let it go,” I murmur. “It wasn’t your fault.”
She blinks rapidly, trying to dispel a fresh wave of tears. “How can you say that? Look at what I’ve done to you.”
“You didn’t do this. It was bad luck, or fate, or whatever you want to call it. There’s nothing you could have done to change it.”
“But—”
“Tell me it’s not your fault.”
Her lip wavers, and she tries to look away, but I capture her face in my fingers, holding her hostage.
“Say it.”
She closes her eyes, her voice barely a whisper when she finally speaks.
“It wasn’t my fault.”
“Okay, now say it like you mean it.”
“It wasn’t my fault,” she repeats, a little louder this time.
“Better.” I smooth her hair back, and she opens her eyes.
“I should let you get some rest.”
“Stay for a while.” My arms tighten around her. “We can go back to fighting later.”
Her gaze drifts over my face, searching for an explanation, but I don’t have one. I just don’t want her to leave.
In the silence, she studies me, visually mapping the scar through my eyebrow, and the one below my jaw. There’s an unspoken question in her eyes, and I don’t have to wonder if she’s trying to remember if she felt them on Eros’s face.
It’s tempting to tell her right now, but that was never part of the plan. Even if it was, she isn’t ready for it. I’m not sure she ever will be.
I close my eyes and leave her to come to her own conclusion.
Eventually, she relaxes, her breaths growing even until she falls asleep. I try to fight it, but this time it’s a losing battle.
When I wake again, it’s to the feeling of Gabi’s finger tracing over mine. I’m not wearing my rings, so it’s the first time she’s seen the scar left by the lightning strike.
“You branded yourself on me,” I tease her. “It’s almost like…you liked me or something.”
Her lips part as recognition sinks in. “The mood ring?”
I nod, wondering if she feels the raging hard-on pressed against her right now. If she does, she’s not bothered by it.
Her body is completely at ease in my arms—soft, warm, and inviting. It’s been too many days since I’ve felt it, and now that I have her here, I don’t want to let her go.
My gaze drops to her mouth, lingering there for far too long.
Fuck, I want to kiss her.
My brain is quick to supply a thousand different reasons why I shouldn’t, but the demon inside me is incorrigible.
Grazing her face with my fingers, I tip her chin up as I narrow the distance between us. I need to see how she responds to my touch—not as Eros, but as me.
I pause a breath away from her, and her heart beats a frantic rhythm against my chest. When she doesn’t protest, I lean in, and she meets me halfway.
Our lips brush, and a soft sound of pleasure catches in her throat. It feeds the beast in me, severing any last hope of restraint.
I take more from her, deepening the kiss with a growl as I roll her onto her back.
My fingers thread through her hair, gripping her roughly as I slide my tongue into her mouth. She lets out a breathless whimper, her hands fisting my shirt as she pulls me closer.
Instinct takes over, and I grind my cock against her, a solitary thought looping through my mind.
I need to fuck her and claim her while she knows exactly who’s inside her.
Before I can make good on that plan, Rafe’s voice douses us in cold water.
“Hey, people are starting to show up for the meeting,” he calls from outside the door. “You want me to tell them you can’t make it?”
That works for me, but the announcement startles Gabi, snapping her back to reality.
She stares at me, confusion and regret swirling in her eyes as she touches her lips.
“Hello?” Rafe calls out again.
“I’m coming,” Gabi squeaks, scrambling out from beneath me like she can’t get away fast enough.
Something heavy settles in my chest as I sit up and watch her go. I should have known this would happen.
She either feels guilty for doing this behind Eros’s back, or she regrets it because it was with me. If it’s the latter, it would only confirm what I’ve suspected all along.
This relationship was always doomed…and I fucked it up beyond repair.
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Mariella asks. “You don’t need to sit through this one if you don’t feel like it. I can update you later.”
I stare past her, tracking Gabi across the room as she checks her phone and frowns. It’s a safe bet she’s upset that Eros still hasn’t texted her back, and it annoys me.
It’s twisted as fuck being jealous of your own alter ego.
It wasn’t him she fell asleep on last night, but it also isn’t me she thinks has been fucking her and touching her every chance I get. She deserves to hear from him, and I know I need to text her, but some deranged part of me wanted this time with her as myself.
Now I know that was a mistake.
“Romeo?” Mariella’s voice drags my attention back to her, and by the odd expression on her face, I can tell she caught me staring at Gabi.
“I’m fine,” I grunt.
“There was something you wanted to bring up tonight?” she asks.
“It can wait.”
She frowns, but I don’t feel like delving into it.
I’d planned to bring up Imperium, since Gabi had Abella ask me to look into it.
I have to give her something, and this would have been the way to do it.
I also need to loop Angelo in at some point, but I’m moody as fuck right now, and I can’t be as careful with my words as I need to.
So instead, I park at the dining room table, far enough from Gabi that I can brood in peace while I can still stare at her if I feel like it.
Mariella opens the meeting, discussing some ideas for new dead drops that Angelo and I have been mulling over.
Angelo thinks some of the methods they’ve been using are too risky, and I agree.
There’s no guarantee that other members of The Society won’t see the missives that have been left in books or restrooms.
Angelo explains the alternatives we’ve come up with, including NFC stickers and QR codes for the more emergent situations.
“What about women who don’t have access to phones?” Serafina asks.
“We’ll still use the reliable dead drops like our trusted business contacts,” Mariella explains. “But the other options will provide quicker help to those who need it.”
“Where are we on rolling those out?” Angelo asks me.
“I’ll have them ready in a week.”
He nods and slides his phone my direction. “First priority.”
I scan the image of a familiar face—a silver spoon-fed aristocrat from The Society.
I don’t know the details, but it’s obvious Angelo does, and whatever this man did to his wife earned him a meeting with me.
“You want him gone?”
“Yes,” Mariella answers. “But only when you’re up to it.”
“I’ll do it this weekend.”
“No.”
The sound of Gabi’s voice pulls my attention from the phone, and when I glance up at her, she’s scowling at me.
The entire room falls silent as we stare at each other, and admittedly, it gives me a hard-on thinking about how she frets over me.
If it were anyone else, I’d be irritated. But if she’s concerned, it means I’m not completely dead to her.
“What’s the matter?” I lean back in my chair, tossing her a lazy smile. “Worried about me?”
“No.” She blushes. “It’s just common sense. You aren’t—”
She stops herself before she says I’m not up to it in front of everyone else.
“It’s just not a good idea right now.”
“Do you have better ideas for how I should be occupying my time?”
“Okay, enough.” Mariella shoots me a look. “We’ll discuss this later, Romeo. Does anybody else have anything they’d like to address right now?”
Gabi averts her gaze while everyone else agrees there’s nothing else to discuss.
Mariella adjourns the meeting, and Gabi pulls out her phone, typing on it furiously. Mine vibrates in my pocket a moment later, but I don’t have to check to know she’s texting him.
While everyone else catches up on idle chatter, she slips from the table. I silently will her to look at me, but she doesn’t.
Instead, she gives me her back, walks down the hall, and shuts her door.