Twisted Emotions (The Camorra Chronicles 2)
He gave a nod and reclined in bed. “Try to sleep now.”
I lay back down on my side, and Nino extinguished the lights. As always, my body seized with fear in the dark. I focused on Nino’s calm breathing. He was too far away for me to feel the warmth of his body, but I heard him. He wasn’t asleep. I don’t know why I knew it, I just did. I closed my eyes and counted his breaths until sleep dragged me down.
Nino
Kiara’s breathing remained tense for a long time after her nightmare. I knew she was trying to make me believe she had fallen asleep, and I allowed her to think she was succeeding. It was curious how often people forgot about the little details when it came to their body language. Breathing in sleep had a different quality than when awake, especially if your waking moments were filled with fear.
Other people’s fear was something I was used to; people feared me because of my name and my Camorra tattoo. Even if they didn’t know me, they feared me because they saw me in the cage or because they realized I didn’t feel. It deeply unsettled most people once they realized that my blank expression wasn’t forced. It came naturally.
Kiara shifted slightly. She was asleep now, but neither my mind nor my body craved sleep. Usually, I had no trouble finding sleep after torturing someone. It didn’t raise my pulse up or make my blood boil, and yet this time there was an underlying restlessness in my limbs as I lay beside Kiara.
I wasn’t sure why I had reacted so strongly. Maybe it was that as my wife I felt obligated to protect her.
I slipped out of bed eventually and left the room. It was quiet in the house and gardens at this hour. People had left the party while Remo and I had been busy with Durant. I assumed Luca had strongly advised them to take their leave. The dark had never harbored horrors for me like it did for Kiara. I enjoyed its peaceful quietness. I went downstairs and followed a slight breeze toward the French windows. As expected, Remo was awake as well. He stood on the crest of the knoll and stared out toward the ocean. He hadn’t bothered getting dressed in pants or a shirt after we were done with Durant. He stood only in his briefs.
His body tensed briefly at my approach, but then his muscles slackened. I stopped beside him, but he didn’t turn to look at me. The scent of copper flooded my nose, and my eyes trailed down his body. Even in the dim moonlight it was obvious that he hadn’t even bothered cleaning up yet.
“Why are you still covered in his blood?” I asked curiously.
“When has there ever been a day without blood in our lives?” He threw my earlier words back at me. I frowned. Remo was in a strange mood.
“Do you know what day today is?”
“April 25,” I said, but I knew that wasn’t where he was going with his words.
He turned his head, and his expression would have sent most people running. “It’s her fucking birthday.”
“I know.”
“Right this moment she’s fucking taking a breath, a breath she shouldn’t be taking. She should burn in hell.”
My chest became tight as it occasionally did when Remo felt compelled to mention our mother. “We can still kill her,” I said.
Remo balled his hands to fists. “Yeah. We could.” His eyes assessed me. “Fourteen fucking years and she’s still breathing.”
“We could ask Fabiano to do it. He would understand.”
“No,” Remo growled. “That day is between us. And if anyone kills our mother, it’s going to be us. Together.” He held out his hand, his Camorra tattoo on display.
I nodded and gripped his forearm as he gripped mine. “I would go through fucking fire for you.”
“You already did, Remo,” I said.
He released my arm and took a deep breath. “The smell of blood always reminds me of that day. Isn’t that kind of ironic considering how much blood we’ve spilled over the years? You’d think it would manage to drown out that one fucking day.”
“Some things stay with you,” I said.
Remo nodded. “You being here I assume you didn’t fuck your wife.”
“Her past stayed with her too. Killing her uncle didn’t change that.”
“Would killing our mother change things for us?” he asked quietly.
I considered that, but for once I didn’t know the answer. “I don’t know.”
CHAPTER 8
NINO
As always, I woke around six in the morning, on my back, staring at the ceiling. I had slept about two hours, which wasn’t much worse than my average night. I turned my head toward the sound of soft breathing. Kiara was curled into herself, her face hidden under her wavy dark brown hair. After her nightmare, she had slept soundly, and once I’d returned to the bedroom from my conversation with Remo, I had quickly found sleep as well. I had no trouble sleeping beside her, even if it had been years since I’d shared a bed with anyone; back then it had been with my brothers because we only had two beds.