Page 64 of Capo

Salvatore is silent. Finally, I turn to him. He’s frowning and there’s concern in his eyes for a brief moment before he closes his face. Reaching past me, he turns off the shower and grabs a fresh towel that he wraps around my shoulders.

“Dry up,” he mutters and steps out.

“How is Ivan?”

He freezes up. “Probably dead.” His voice is flat, emotionless.

My heart sinks like a stone. Ivan has become a part of my life, almost as vital to my existence as breathing. I take a step out of the bathroom and come to a halt when I see the slaughterhouse before me. I never knew the damage a semi-automatic rifle could do to a body. The massive amount of bullets that hit them have almost ripped them in half.

“I…” I take a step back. “I can’t.”

“Don’t look. Come.” Salvatore grabs under my thighs and my back and hoists me up in his arms, carrying me through the bedroom, out into the hallway and into the other bedroom. He puts me down on the bed. Pulling out drawers and opening the closet, he finds clothes that he puts on. Black jeans. A black T-shirt that sits snug over his chest, his muscles bulging and straining the material. “Wait here.”

“Will you be back?” I croak.

He caresses a strand of wet hair off my forehead. “I’ll need to send you away, Chloe. You can’t stay here.”

“What?”

He turns and disappears out the door, locking it. I dart up and pull the handle to no avail.

“What?”

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