Matteo #2
“Shoot them where it’ll hurt like a bitch?” I repeat incredulously. “Are you even hearing yourself?”
I fight the urge to run a hand through my hair. I’m not listening to this anymore.
“I’m taking you home,” I state, reaching for her arm. She flinches away and there’s no missing the fear in her eyes.
My jaw tightens and I mask the hurt I feel at the sight. Where was that fear when her life was in mortal peril?
“I’ll go home myself,” she mutters and there’s no missing the shiver that rolls through her.
The thin material of the shirt she’s wearing is likely doing nothing to keep the cold at bay.
Slowly, I take off the jacket I’m wearing.
I approach her like she’s a caged animal, placing the jacket over her shoulders.
She doesn’t push it away, but she’s tense.
Practically holding her breath at my approach.
“And how do you plan to do that, princess? Walk? For once, don’t be stubborn and let me take you home.”
“What home?” she yells suddenly. “I live in a hotel! I don’t have a house, nor a family that I can trust. I don’t even have a friend that isn’t tainted by this!”
Her loss of control is startling, and I rethink my previous assessment. She’s not calm, not in the slightest. She had only been hiding it. But right now, it’s pretty clear the dam is close to bursting. I could help her. A better man would do something to keep her demons at bay.
Instead, I decide to push and prod, to bring them to the surface.
“Tainted by what exactly?” I ask.
“By you. By your entire world,” she replies and her eyes are like the deep blue ocean. They well with tears and I’m powerless to stop it. “You killed those men for me and because you did it for me, I’m responsible. It’s my fault they’re dead.”
“They kidnapped you. They signed their own death note; that’s on them.”
She’s shaking.
“I’m sorry,” I say softly.
The apology catches her off guard. She looks up at me, her eyes swimming, her expression heartbreakingly beautiful.
“I’m not sorry I did it, but I’m sorry it happened. And… that you feel responsible.”
She takes that in quietly, and then she looks away again, blinking away tears.
“Come on,” I say, reaching for her again, relieved when she doesn’t push my arm off. “I’ll take you back to your hotel.”
She lets me lead her to my car. We’re both silent for a long time as I drive away. I’m completely unequipped to handle this. She’s in a fragile state right now and I’m worried about saying the wrong thing to set her off.
“What are you going to do about the bodies?” she asks after some time has passed.
We’re on the road to the city, the trees and everything that hurt her is behind us. Everything except me that is.
“Nothing,” I inform her. “They’ll be found soon enough. When they’re found, their organization will probably cover it up.”
“Won’t someone know I was there? They’ll know they abducted me,” she points out. “And they’ll know someone saved me.”
“Even if they do, it won’t matter. They won’t be able to trace it back to me. And I’ll make sure no one touches you ever again.”
I let those words settle and glance at her as she tries to make sense of it.
“Why?” she says softly. “Why did you save me? Why do you care?”
My heart clenches while my jaw tightens, “I don’t know, Lindsay. I just do. I guess I enjoyed blocking you from all my files this past year. Who would fuck with me if you were killed?”
The admission feels like parting with a vital part of me. I don’t look at her as I say the words.
She sniffs softly, and I realize she’s crying. “I should call the police. Tell them everything that happened.”
“You won’t,” I murmur.
She grows quiet again, not contradicting my words. We drive into the city and arrive at her hotel twenty minutes later. I park just across from it, staring up at the large building filled to the brim with people. Innocent people who aren’t tainted by me. By my world.
I’m sure she wishes she was one of them.
When I turn to her, she’s staring forward, chewing on the inside of her cheek. A nervous habit I’ve noticed.
“You’ve been watching me, haven’t you? You were there at the park yesterday?”
I nod once, compressing down my anger as I remember who she’d been with at the park. I already asked Elio to dig into the man. I remember how she smiled as she looked at him. It took most of my self-control not to walk into the café and demand her attention.
“Thank you,” she says under her breath.
“I don’t want your thanks, Lindsay. I want you to be okay.”
“I’ll be okay. As long as you stay away from me.”
That hurt. I look at her, my eyes boring into hers. I want to see what’s behind the depths. I want to uncover every inch of her. And then drown in that deep ocean that she hides behind.
“Are you really sure you want that?” I ask. “Look me in the eye and then answer the question. Do you want me to leave you alone?”
She stares at me for an eternity and her expression crumbles.
“No,” she whispers, the truth wrenched from her like she can’t control it.
The tension between us simmers. We’re both staring now. She shifts closer, leans forward and then her eyes flick to my lips. I see it in her expression. Lust and want mixed together. But there’s also fear. And I simply can’t ignore that.
She was in a similarly vulnerable state the last time I kissed her. And I know she feels like I took advantage of that. I’m not about to make the same mistake twice.
I lean backwards and her eyes grow wide. It’s impossible to miss the sting of rejection. I turn away, resting my hands against the steering wheel.
“Go, Lindsay. I’ll watch you enter the hotel from here,” I say, needing to put some distance between myself and the suffocating control she seems to have over me.
“Fuck you, Matteo,” she snarls, opening the door and then slamming it.
I wait until she’s inside the hotel. And then I wait until I’m sure she’s made it to her room. My fingers itch as I battle the urge to follow her. Because I know she’s not truly okay. And she needs someone with her right now.
But I’m not that person and I’m pretty sure I’d only make her feel worse.
I should leave. Head home, see my son, although it’s way past his bedtime. Instead I stay put, because despite everything I know how terrified she is. And a part of me doesn’t want to leave her alone.
I’ll continue my silent vigil from afar.
And wonder if she’ll ever let me in enough that it ends.