Chapter 11
Rico
Icheck the camera for the fifth time today.
A compulsion.
One that I find extremely frustrating and confusing rather than comforting.
Compulsions. Hyper fixations. I’ve had them for as long as I can remember.
My mother was the only one who understood them.
Now, I know it’s because she had them, too.
But my father. . . He didn’t understand and he didn’t want to learn to.
Instead he tried to mold me into what he deemed as the normal child.
Which only caused my meltdowns of self isolation to progress.
There were days where I would not speak.
Others where I simply wanted to be removed from the world and all of its noise and would rather rot in my bed.
Mother had always wanted to protect me from father but she was never strong enough to stand against him. More often than not he’d lock her away in a room. I can still hear her desperate fists pounding against the door begging to be free.
I try to ignore the parallels. But right now they’re fucking screaming at me as I watch the beauty behind the lens.
Someone as wild as her isn’t meant to be caged.
La mia gazzella’s self preservation has finally kicked in. She’s begun to eat small morsels of food.
Good girl.
Every so often she’ll give me her middle finger. My lips tip up unconsciously each time.
“Did I just see you smirk?” Pietro jests but there’s bafflement hidden in the undertones.
My lips return to their natural form, a firm line. I side eye him. “Perhaps you’re seeing things.”
He boasts, “Twenty, twenty vision baby.”
“Maybe I was attempting a joke,” I murmur. Maybe this will deter him from my hyper fixation on the captive.
He snorts. “Good one. But seriously—” Fuck. He’s a damn dog with a bone and won’t let go. “I’ve never seen you like this before.”
“I’m no different,” I tell him.
“You are,” he disagrees as his eyes return to the monitor. “And it has everything to do with her.”
I remain silent. His mind can conjure up whatever he desires without me confirming or denying.
My focus returns to her. The surprise who has consumed my every waking thought and followed me in my sleep. I dreamt of her. And I never dream. But I did of her.
Instead of her signature glare and pursed lips she gifted me with a smile. And I understood what people meant when they said a smile could be more blinding than the sun. Because when she smiled in my dream? Christ, it was like I was staring at the sun. I could even feel its warmth.
How is that even possible?
If I didn’t know any better I would believe witchcraft to be true. Because there is no other reason for me to be having such thoughts.
“You need to be careful, Rico,” Pietro begins with trepidation. “If Constantine is to even—”
“You have a very creative imagination, Pietro. But that’s all it is. Don’t be making scenarios when there isn’t anything to give in the first place.” I close the monitor and turn towards him. “Capisce?”
He nods his head but warily. I don’t have time to concern myself with his emotions. Not when things need to be done.
“I’m assuming Gino made contact with Seamus?”
While I may be aversive to this video I know it needs to be done.
Seeing his daughter in a precarious and dangerous predicament will send him the right message.
But I’ve studied Seamus and his notorious crime family.
They’re full of pride. This very well may take a dark turn.
At least we’ll be prepared. I fear war with The Murphy Family is inevitable.
“He did,” he affirms. “We are set to make a live connection in two hours. The location is also ready.”
Imogen can’t be seen in a warm comfortable bed. Carina said perception is key so perception is what will be given.
“I’ll transport her to the warehouse.”
“Why? Don’t trust me with the cargo?” He flashes a grin and winks.
There’s that flare again. The one where I feel my blood rushing in my veins. My heartbeat drums in my ear. The tight coil in my stomach that wants to be released. It feels animalistic. Primal.
Voice hard I respond, “She’s my captive. I’ll handle her.”
He whistles lowly. “Careful, Rico. One might think you’re developing feelings for the girl.”
I don’t comment but I fear by doing so it says it all.
I wait until I hear the last of his steps retreat before I open the monitor once more.
She’s staring directly at the camera this time. Directly at me. And for the first time in my life I feel as if she’s staring right at the depths of me.
I trace the outline of her face with the pad of my finger before I linger on her lips.
What the fuck is happening to me?