Twisted Fate (Dark Heart 2)

“Even when there’s no way forward—when it seems like there’s not one—you stick by me. You stick by your brother and your friends. Even Roberto…and your father,” she whispers. “What you told me happened sounds horrible. But I have never felt like it was your fault. I think you live with trauma every day, and you still fight to keep your head above water. Even when I’m not there with you, and I want to be. I’m so sad that I can’t be, because it’s all I want.”

I hug her closer, hoping she won’t notice me losing my shit. But I guess she feels me breathe or feels a teardrop in her hair, because she pulls my face down to her shoulder and she wraps herself around me, too. She’s stroking my shoulders and my nape, my back and then my cheek.

“Don’t be worried, darling. We just have to find a way. Maybe after my term’s over, we can move to Timbuktu.”

“That’s a real place. Did you know?” I force a smile for her; she’s smiling back with wet eyes.

“It’s somewhere desert-like in west-ish Africa, right? And there’s a mosque or something?”

“It’s in Mali.”

“Maybe we should get away. But not quite that far. I’ll miss my friends. Maybe…Jersey. Do they know you down there?” she asks.

“Not how they do here. The Bellinis are in charge in Jersey.”

“You’re the don of nothing down there.”

I nod, resting my chin on the top of her head.

“Does it make you feel weird, that term?”

“I’m not really the don. Roberto is…if we’re going to be technical, based on…ceremonial things. I’m just the fill-in.”

“Do you want to be the fill-in?” She kisses my jaw.

“I’ve done it.”

“You didn’t get a lot of choices.”

“I was fine. I’m fine. Better than fine,” I whisper into her sweet-smelling hair. “I told Max where I think Aren gets…these victims. I’ve told him before, but the other day, I told him a lot more. He seemed like he’d be interested, or like some of his blue bros would be.”

“You’re sad that you can’t help this month?”

“Yeah. I even thought of taking them—like intercepting them on their way to Aren. But I didn’t want a gunfight.”

“If something happened to him, who would be next up…for the Armenians?” she asks.

“He’s got a younger guy below him, but that guy’s quiet and reserved. It wouldn’t be the same group without Aren.” I lean my head against the back of the chair, closing my eyes so I can appreciate how Elise feels on top of me.

If I could sit here with my arms around her for forever, I’d do it. To hell with eating, showering, sunlight, or any of that other shit.

Her fingers stroke through my hair. “How are you?” She kisses my eyelids. “Besides today, when you couldn’t stalk me anymore and had to call my father?”

I peek an eyelid open, find her smirking. “I’m fine.”

“I don’t want those faux answers. Give me real ones.” She frames my face with her hands. “Talk to me, my Luca. Tell me everything inside your head.”

I kiss her lips, and she pries me off, laughing. “There are stereotypes, Galante, and you’re playing right into them.”

I shut my eyes again. “It’s not my fault you’re tempting. And you smell like heaven.”

She tucks her cheek against my chest and whispers, “Tell me what’s been going on. Outside those little dark hearts we send on text.”

I shrug. “Just the same ole.”

“No.” She laughs. “I’m not asking what you’ve been doing. I want to know how you are.” Her finger traces a heart over my shirt. “How do you feel? What do you want? And don’t you try to tell me tired and a cheeseburger. I miss you, and so I want to know how you are. I don’t have anything to go on, since I can’t live with you yet.”

Her voice wobbles on that, and I squeeze her closer.

Fuck. “You want to live with me?”

“I always have.”

“We were kids then.”

“And we’re not now.” Her fingers play at my nape, and my throat aches thinking of all the things she doesn’t understand about me. And maybe wouldn’t want to.

In the elevator all those years ago, she asked me if I still had the problems I had back in high school. Instead of getting better, all that shit has…I don’t know. It’s not worse, but it’s different. “I don’t know if you could sleep with me,” I mange.

She waits a moment before murmuring, “How come? Think you’ll keep me up?”

I nod. Try to swallow.

“I don’t care about that.”

I clench my jaw.

“What are you thinking?” she whispers.

Being with me will only bring you down. That’s how I’ve always felt. But I don’t want to bring that feeling up between us again. I don’t want to bring her down by saying I’ll bring her down. I squeeze my eyes shut, shaking my head.