Chapter Five
Zahra
A week later
Slipping my hand underneath my pillow, I pulled out the gun that had taken up permanent residence there. I had contemplated leaving it behind, but couldn’t.
I slowly traced his initials with my thumb. EM.
Fuck.
I miss him.
If pathetic were a person, it would be me.
Elio wasn’t responding to my texts.
I sure as hell didn’t predict it would affect me this way, but it did. It left me with my thoughts, and those thoughts slowly transformed into guilt … and then regret.
At first, I packed up the guilt, and ignored the heaviness in my chest, which had been—to be honest—there since I left that cell at his compound.
I knew I’d been compromised, but I didn’t think it had gotten to the extent where I would be so tucked into myself, sinking into feelings I had no business feeling, especially at a time like this, a time when I needed my focus on the job I had to do.
My headphones firmly covered my ears, music playing, song after song starting and ending. I wasn’t really listening to the lyrics.
I turned on my side on the bed, facing the window; it was a floor-to-ceiling window showcasing the vast dark blue of the sea. Even with my headphones on, I could still hear the dull hum of the ship. I was missing out on all the fun just because I couldn’t get out of my head.
I never miss anyone. I shouldn’t miss him. It made no sense that I did, did it?
How could I miss someone who ignored me half the time? Someone who told me I was a mistake? I knew I was a mistake, but did he really have to say it like that? Like he didn’t mean it but had to say it so we would have no reason to see each other again?
Couldn’t he just say, “Fuck off, we are nothing. You are better than me, and you messed up but made the right choice. I don’t want to see you because whatever tension between us is just too much, and I think you are better off without me”?
I sighed, knowing Elio would never say words like that.
I might have hurt him, but I probably should have been more honest. I should have made him listen to me. I talked him out of turning his lights off; why couldn’t I talk him into listening to me?
Three weeks of these thoughts filtering in and out of my mind, taking my focus away from everything else around me. God, it was driving me crazy.
I knew I messed up, but I didn’t need my mind reminding me of it every waking second.
It was funny because weeks ago, I hadn’t realized that I’d missed hearing his voice or that I liked his accent. Or his different facial expressions when explaining something to me while being a smart-ass. I knew he had a beautiful smile, but I was only just realizing how addictive it was.
Now I knew why I liked to say things to get on his nerves. It was so he would scowl in that gorgeous way of his.
And there was the way he furrowed his brows when thinking.
There was also the fact that he liked looking at me—specifically at my hair. It was the first thing his eyes always latched onto before he drank in my face.
Odd how just a few weeks were all it took to make me admit that maybe it wasn’t just his touch, or the sex. Maybe it was just … him. Maybe I was so high on him that I became insufferable to everyone around me. I knew I had to fix it.
But before I could make Elio listen, I would have to tell Devil. He was one of the reasons Elio turned a one-eighty and ended everything before anything really happened.
I groaned and turned on my back, staring up at the ceiling.
Maybe I just needed to get Elio out of my system.
I had had a taste that wasn’t enough, a taste that had me thirsting for more.
I longed to have a meaningful or a stupid conversation with him where he’d try to prove me wrong by stating silly facts that I didn’t give a shit about.
Things had been quiet on his end, and I wasn’t even wondering why he wasn’t making any moves to get the painting or if he knew where it was.
I only cared about him … what he was doing, how he was doing.
Had he given up on setting things right with Devil because of me? Did he really think I had purposefully tried to take away hopes of reconciliation between them?
I closed my eyes and sighed.
When had I lost control of my feelings? When we made love in the bathtub? When he took me to his house in Turin?
I slipped the gun right back underneath my pillow just as the door to my room opened.
We’d booked the silver suite on the Celestial cruise, which included five bedrooms and a lounge.
I removed my headphones and looked at Milk, who stood by the door, dressed casually. “Hey, we’re heading out of the suite to eat; you coming?” she asked.
I plastered a small smile on my lips. “No, I’m good.”
Her shoulders dropped, eyes filling with concern. “Oh … you want us to get you anything?”
“I’m good, thanks.”
“It’s food, Zahra.”
I let out a small laugh. “Yeah, I know, I don’t think I have an appetite. You guys go ahead.” I sank farther into the bed. “Have fun.” I tried to sound cheerful, but it came out half-assed.
She threw her head back and yelled, “You guys go on without me and Zahra! Get us food, we’ll hang back!”
“Got it!” Upper yelled from somewhere in the suite.
“You don’t have to do that,” I told her as she entered the room, closing the door behind her. She kicked off her sneakers, walked over, and climbed into bed with me. “Seriously, go have fun,” I said as she got under the covers, scooted closer, spooning from behind.
“It won’t be fun without you there,” she murmured against my hair.
I groaned, but my appreciation for her staying behind caused a swirl of warmth in my chest.
“I don’t like sappy shit like this,” I murmured back, relaxing into her hold as her chin rested on my shoulder.
“I do; deal with it.”
I couldn’t fight off my smile.
“You’ve been sad since we left Milan, don’t think we haven’t noticed. I gave you time and space to tell me or any one of us yourself, but it seems you won’t do that on your own.”
“I haven’t been sad,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant.
“You’ve barely been eating for the past three weeks.”
I chuckled, falling deeper into her body. “Just because I am barely eating doesn’t mean I’m sad.”
Milk scoffed. “You never say no to food.”
I managed a shrug. “I guess I’m just having a bad month.”
“You can tell me, Zahra,” she said softly, genuinely. “Whatever it is, I’ll try to help you sort it out. Anything to get you out of your funk.” She hugged me tighter, intertwining our fingers.
Telling her didn’t ultimately seem out of the question. If I were going to tell Devil, there was no way all of Street wouldn’t find out.
Besides, I needed some of Milk’s unhinged and unfiltered advice. I was contemplating whether now was the best time to tell Devil or not. I needed a boost of confidence, a vote to go ahead.
I took a deep breath and turned so we could face each other.
“Promise you won’t freak out,” I said softly.
She pressed her lips together, eyes searching mine. After a few beats of silence, she said, “Honestly, it depends.”
“Come on, Milk.”
“Fine, okay … I won’t freak out,” she said reluctantly.
I let out a breath. “I think I like someone I shouldn’t like.”
Her eyes widened instantly. “Devil? I thought it was over with—”
“No, not Devil—”
Her nose scrunched up. “Dog?”
“God, no.” I laughed. “Why the fuck would you think that?”
She shrugged. “I know it can’t be Upper, so—oh my God … Me?”
I shook my head. “No, it’s not you.”
Now she looked confused. “Then who?”
I swallowed. “Devil’s brother.”
Her brows drew farther down. “Devil’s…” She trailed off, but then her brows shot up in surprise. “Oh,” she said as realization brightened her eyes. “Oh…” But then confusion took over again. “Oh?”
“Yeah. Shocker,” I said, pressing my head farther into the pillow as Milk got on her elbow so she could look down at me.
“You like Elio,” she stated.
“I think I do.”
“You think? You’ve been moping around for weeks because of him!
There is nothing to thi—Oh my God, you like Elio?
Wha—How? Why the hell do you like him? What has been happening?
Why didn’t I notice? Wait—That one time I came to your room and found only pillows arranged in your body shape on your bed, were you—with him? ”
I frowned. “What time?”
She sat upright. “Dog said you were probably on the roof, but I didn’t—”
I sat up. “Dog?”
She huffed out a breath. “I don’t know when exactly this was, I can’t really remember, but I came to your room, and you weren’t there.
Instead, there were pillows. So I brought Dog in because I thought he might know why you snuck out, but he told me you were on the rooftop right after he made me search for your stash of weed—obviously, we didn’t find it.
But damn—” A grin split across her face. “You’re smooth.”
I blinked at her. “Wow,” I said, raking my hair back from my face. “Why didn’t you ask me about it afterward?”
She shrugged. “There wasn’t really anything to ask—But hell, Zahra, that is not the point right now. How did it start? Do you think he likes you too? Why did it end?”
I sighed. “It was harmless flirting at first, but then, well—Hey … Wipe that fucking smile off your face.”
She held up both hands in defense. “I’m just surprised,” she cooed, shifting closer to me. “I mean, you like someone … I don’t know why I like that you like someone, I just do. And hell—Elio Marino? That’s huge! He’s so fucking hot. Are you joking?”
“I wish I was.”
An excited, goofy grin spread across her lips. “So, did you guys, like…” She wiggled her brows. “How was the sex?”
I groaned. “It was…” I trailed off and closed my eyes.
I could still smell him, feel his touch, feel him …
I didn’t know when a sigh left my lips. “It was elite. So fucking elite.” I opened my eyes.
“I didn’t remember my name for the first few minutes; I felt so soft afterward.
You know when you have sex with someone, and you just feel soft everywhere when you finish? ”