Chapter Twenty-Nine
Zahra
“You know what? I’ll take the push.”
Elio paused as if trying to see if I was serious, and when I didn’t counter my statement, he breathed out in relief. “Oh, finally.” He attempted to stand, but I quickly responded.
“That was a joke! Jesus.”
The man groaned in annoyance before he sat back down, looking away from me.
I chuckled at how he’d almost become shiny with excitement at the prospect of getting to push me over the railing. “Why are you so eager to kill me?”
“It is one of my many fantasies.”
“Oooh, you have fantasies about me?” I pressed my back to the brick railing, my front facing him.
“I didn’t say that.”
“Sorry, my mind already drove me down that route, and now I’m curious to know more about these fantasies you seem to be having.”
He shook his head, not responding as he brought the beer bottle to his lips while he took a swig, his throat working as he swallowed.
I knew I’d gone out of that house to be alone, but somehow, I was more comfortable in his presence.
“You don’t look like a beer kinda guy,” I voiced into the silence.
“I also don’t look like the suicide kinda guy, but here we are,” he said casually while I flinched at the word, shifting uncomfortably.
“You’re so nonchalant about it.”
“Hm.”
“Why?”
“Can you shut up?”
“What?”
“I do not appreciate the screech in your voice. It doesn’t help my migraine. So I would appreciate your silence.”
I threw my head back and laughed, my chest vibrating from how amused I was by his response. Looking back at him, I caught his eyes on me, intense and a little guarded as his gaze swept up and down my body.
The heat from his stare made me shift on my feet, and my laugh simmered down while I made sure to ignore the faint flutter that came with his attention.
“Do you not have normal clothing?” he asked.
“No.” I curved my lips. “It’s all silk and satin in my wardrobe,” I lied. “I think it’s sexy.”
“Of course.” His gaze lingered on my exposed thighs for a second too long before he looked away.
I chuckled, leaning away from the railing as I walked towards the stone chair, eyeing the space beside him and debating whether to sit on the chair or settle beside him on the ground.
The ground seemed a better option, and I settled down next to him, leaving just a few inches between our bodies, but I was still close enough to feel how his posture grew tense with me sitting close.
I waited for him to complain, but he didn’t, so I relaxed further and broke the uncomfortable silence.
“This is actually a nightgown, by the way. The other one was a normal dress.”
“I didn’t ask.”
I rested my back against the stone chair, looking up at the dark sky filled with stars. The moon was bright and welcoming, and I couldn’t fight the urge to soak it all in as I closed my eyes and took a lungful of air before releasing it in a calm breath and opening my eyes.
I felt Elio’s stare, and I turned my head to catch his gaze on me, unwavering. He did not attempt to pretend he hadn’t been staring at me, and I did not attempt to look away either.
The gray of his eyes was darker yet softer, like he was in his most relaxed state and had no thought in his mind. The haunted glint I’d found in his eyes the night before was missing, and I secretly wondered if it was the beer that made him seem so approachable.
His eyes … they showed a lot when he allowed it.
I hated that I liked it so much. That the allure of his gaze could suck you in without even intending to do so, and that’s where I was, sucked in.
He didn’t look away.
I couldn’t look away.
I hated that my heart rate had spiked again.
I hated that the silence had somehow become a comfortable one. I hated this. Whatever this was.
His gaze roamed from my eyes to my cheeks, over to my nose, then to my lips. “You have an impressive face.”
I frowned in confusion. “Um, wh—”
“I like your hair.”
I blinked at him. “Are those compliments?”
He looked away. “Observations.”
“Oh…” I shifted. “Thanks for the … observations?”
He nodded, taking another swig of the beer, the remaining contents inside the bottle a drink away from being empty.
“Why are you here?” I asked him, wondering if he would—
“Couldn’t sleep,” he answered.
Devil’s voice filtered through my head from the time he told me Elio looked like someone who never slept. I was curious to know more about it … about him.
“And you don’t have sleeping pills to aid?”
“I do.”
“Why don’t you just take them?”
He was silent, and I watched his brows draw down in a debating frown like he was unsure if he should continue talking or ignore me.
I wouldn’t be surprised if he ignored me.
We weren’t exactly friends. I mean—I’d seen him in a terrible state, and I’d talked him out of his head once, but I didn’t think that side of him was something he showed to people.
I didn’t want it to seem like I was prying because I cared, and I knew I shouldn’t care about him because he tried to drown me, but—when you survive a shoot-out with someone, you tend to form a survivors’ bond with them.
I guess that’s what this was … and yeah, the unwanted physical attraction.
“I can’t be near those pills. I’m not in the proper state of mind,” he answered after the prolonged silence.
“How many people know that you—that you’re like this?”
“Hm,” he hummed. “No one aside from Angelo … and now you. If you’re thinking of spreading the word, don’t bother. No one would believe you.”
“I’m not,” I injected immediately. “Why doesn’t Casmiro know? You two are close, right?”
“I already have Angelo to worry about, therefore, I don’t need Cas on my throat too.”
“But I know…”
“I don’t have to worry about you since you hate me and want me to do it faster.”
My stomach dipped. “I d—”
“Why are you here?” He cut me off. “You shouldn’t be here; you shouldn’t even be out of the house.”
I looked away from him. “I couldn’t sleep either. I—” I cleared my throat. “Needed a break from … everyone.”
“Okay.”
I glanced at him. “You’re not gonna ask why?”
“I don’t care enough to.”
Right. So it was just me, then.
The silence stretched between us again, and I broke it with a prying question because, yes, I couldn’t help myself; sue me.
“So your sleeping problem, is it—where’s it from? Did something happen to you?”
This time, he turned his head and met my gaze with confusion.
“There isn’t some grand story behind it if that’s what you’re thinking,” he said.
“Christ, you sound like a book character, one of those prying, annoying ones. I have clinical depression, and the sleeping disorder is one of the hiccups that comes with it.”
“Oh…”
“I either sleep too much or don’t sleep at all. Often, I find myself not sleeping at all unless I take something and force it,” he said. “Tonight is one of those nights when I don’t want to force it. Does that answer your question?”
“Not really…”
“Should I interpret it in Spanish?” he asked.
“No, I—” I sighed. “That’s not what I meant. I’m just confused because you know what’s wrong with you, yet you won’t fix it. It doesn’t make any sense to me.”
“It’s good that it doesn’t. Because I’m not going to explain. I already told you the other day that I am undeserving of it. Now quit prying and being unnecessarily annoying.”
I rolled my eyes, fishing for the stash of white pills in my pocket. “If you’re trying to wear yourself out, the cheap beer won’t do the trick,” I said, dangling the stash in the space between us.
He eyed it and then me. “What are you insinuating?”
“You wanna get high?” I asked with a grin.
After a bit of silence, he spoke. “Does my brother do drugs too?” There was an edge to his voice that had me shaking my head.
“Nope, he doesn’t even know. It’s just Dog and me; we don’t do it often, but sometimes, we get high and smoke joints because life is shit, and you just gotta escape it for a few hours.”
“It’s not healthy, Sport.”
“I’m not a kid.”
“You could get addicted.”
“I know my limits.”
“It’s—”
“Do you wanna get high? Or not?”
He eyed the pills and then me. I watched him struggle with a decision for a few beats before he outstretched his palm towards me.
I grinned, slipping out a pill as I said, “I knew there was a crazy in there somewhere.” I placed one in his palm, and he eyed it.
“How strong is it?”
“One won’t tip you off the edge, but it’s enough to weaken your limbs and make you feel lighter … also, maybe a little…” I watched him put it in his mouth and swallow before I completed my statement. “… horny.”
He didn’t freak out like I expected.
I popped one in my mouth and swallowed, keeping the rest in the jacket pocket. “It’s the kind that dissolves into your bloodstream immediately after taking it, so it takes about a few seconds to kick in. It’s really good stuff.”
“I hope I don’t like it too much.”
I scoffed. “It’s just one pill.”
“I know. I have APD,” he said casually.
I paused. That didn’t sound good. “What does … APD mean?”
“Addictive personality disorder. It’s not intense, but it’s there. I get attached to things easily … people too. And when I don’t control it, it turns into an addiction. Like books, killing people, cleaning, and … what else? Ah … yes, cigars.”
I stared at him, my eyes growing wide in apprehension. “What the fuck, Elio? Why didn’t you say anything?”
He looked at me with a raised brow. “I said I hope I don’t like it too much.”
“How the fuck is that supposed to tell me anything?”
He shrugged like he didn’t care as he downed the remaining contents of the beer bottle while I sat there, feeling the effect of the drugs and feeling like shit.
“It’s like you’ve made it your mission to fill me with guilt at every turn,” I said, annoyed.
“I refuse to take responsibility for what you feel; it’s … oh.” He paused. “I feel it.”
My limbs grew weaker, and I felt lighter, but I wasn’t feeling the feeling, not after what he had just told me.