I huff, “Not from you.”
He’s silent for a moment then he says, “I’m sorry if they’re being hard on you.”
He sounds sincere, and I believe he is. “It’s okay.” I tell him. “They’ll get over it.”
A chuckle lights up the other end of the line and I feel that heat again.
Intoxicating.
“I want to see you again.” He whispers.
I exhale heavily. Should we see each other again? This story only has one ending and it’s not going to be a good one. There’s not a universe where this ends happily ever after.
This love is a tragedy.
We’re star-crossed lovers, two humans from opposing families sneaking around in the depths of the dark for just a second of the love that fairytales talk about.
Italians and Irish are not meant to be together. Our love is doomed, but it’s not stopping the ache between my thighs, or the beating in my chest.
My whole body is on fire when I think of him, think of us together in that hotel room.
“Liam…” I trail. “Is that a good idea?”
“No.” He says bluntly, and I appreciate it. “It’s a terrible idea, but I like being with you Gemma. It’s funny, I feel alone all the damn time, no matter where I am or who I’m with. But with you, I don’t feel alone at all.”
My chest is pounding.
I know the feeling.
I need Adderall, vodka, weed, anything to make myself tolerable or to leave the house. But with him, I just am. It feels completely different, and I don’t understand it, but I want to.
We’re two broken people. Living in two completely different worlds. We’re not meant to be together. But this feeling…
“I know.” I whisper. “I feel that way too.”
He’s silent, but I can hear his breath through the phone. “See me again.” He says finally. “Let’s go somewhere this weekend, just the two of us. We’ll leave everyone else behind and just let it be us. Three days, Gemma. Give me three days.”
I would give him more than three days. I would give him as many days as he asked for.
“Okay.”
I swear I can hear him smile through the phone.
“I’ll text you the details, Princess.”
Fuck it, we may be doomed but we’ll go down in flames.
THE BODY IN THE CASINO basement has been replaced with a new one.
This time, the unlucky bastard is not Italian. Though, my brother hasn’t shut up about the Italians for weeks now. He’s content to burn the entire city of Providence to the ground if it means we would be rid of them.
Normally, I would agree.
But then I think of Gemma.
Her long black hair, fierce smile, and her lips wrapped around my cock. I think of her face turned into a frown when she finds out her family has been murdered.
Worse, when I’m really in a mood to torture myself, I think of her body lifeless and bleeding at my brother’s hands.