Twisted Emotions (The Camorra Chronicles 2)

Nino slowed his pace when he noticed I was having trouble keeping up. Eventually he chose a spot overlooking a valley of smaller stone formations, so we could take a break. We sat down on the ground, hip to hip, and Nino handed me a sandwich.

“And? Do you enjoy it?” he asked.

I tilted my head at him. “The hike or the sandwich?”

“Both would be optimum.”

I shook my head. “Optimum…” I put my chin down on his shoulder “…I bet in school the other kids hated how clever and proper you were.”

Nino’s eyebrows shot up. “I was not proper. And the kids hated me for many reasons.”

“But I doubt they ever teased you.”

“When Remo and I first started boarding school in England, the kids didn’t know who we were. We were supposed the blend in. I was two years ahead, same year as Remo. Many of the boys in my classes were taller. They tried taunting me at first.”

“That didn’t go over well.”

“A few of them had unfortunate incidents leading to hospital stays,” Nino said. “Most of them were Remo’s doing, but I got a few of them as well.”

“And you weren’t thrown out of school?”

“The teachers knew who we were,” Nino said with a dark smile.

I searched his face, trying to imagine how he had been as a child. Nino met my gaze, and something softer, warmer filled his eyes. He leaned forward, touched my hip, and claimed my mouth for a kiss. I kissed him back, and eventually we stretched out on the warm stone, Nino leaning over me, kissing me, stroking my waist and ribcage. He rolled us over until I was lying on top of him. His hands roamed over my back, but the sound of a twig breaking tore us apart and Nino sat up with me still on top of him. His eyes scanned our surroundings. Then he relaxed again. His lips left a soft trail along my cheek down to my throat. His gentleness, his loving gestures, they made my heart throb with love and despair.

He simulated love for me. Sometimes, I managed to forget. But whenever I remembered, the pain was acute and heartbreaking. I shoved that thought aside. Nino cupped my cheek again, angled my head until our mouths connected. The kiss was all consuming, and I let it pull me down, let Nino’s hands banish any logical thought. When he settled between my legs and claimed me, nothing else mattered but having Nino above me, inside of me, his mouth on mine, his gray eyes alight with desire and more … I didn’t care if it was simulated or not.

Afterward, we got dressed and continued our hike. His expression was calm and serene as it scanned the landscape around us, as long as he wasn’t trying to simulate emotions. Was that how we would all be, calm and serene if we hadn’t been burdened with the ability to feel at birth?

Calm and serene. I wished I could be like that, but my thoughts and emotions were a whirlwind in my body, confusing and terrifying and completely foolish.

A few days later, Nino had gone to train for a fight with Fabiano, and I was left alone with Remo. It was the first time he was the one to guard me. Nino had mentioned that Remo would be leaving soon for a mission in Outfit territory, which was why he was busy with last minute preparations at home.

I found him in his favorite spot on the sofa, checking something on his tablet. He didn’t look up when I entered, and I watched him silently.

He raised his head, his expression hardening. “What now?” His voice was low, on the verge of angry.

“Why do you enjoy hurting women?” I whispered.

Remo narrowed his eyes. “I enjoy hurting people. I don’t differentiate if it’s a man or a woman.”

“And yet you punish women differently than men,” I said.

“Do I?” he murmured, dark eyes burning into me. He put down his tablet and stood. “They get a choice. They can submit to torture or …”

“Submit to another form of torture,” I said, growing angry. “You give them a choice between two forms of torture.”

He stalked toward me, but for once I didn’t back away. Almost three months in his presence gave me the necessary courage, that combined with the knowledge that Nino trusted Remo. “But one of them is far less painful than the other. It’s a choice. More than men get.”

I shuddered. “I can assure you that it was very painful for me.”

Remo regarded me a moment. He was close enough I could see the myriad of scars marring his upper body. He seldom wore shirts in the house. In the beginning, I thought it was to unsettle me even more—like Remo wasn’t unsettling enough on his own. “You were a child. Nobody touches children in my territory nor underage girls.”