Page 25 of The Sicilian Brotherhood I

I nodded.

“Come. Sit here.”

He patted the mattress beside him. I followed and sat there, next to him. Our thighs nearly touched and I resisted the natural urge to rest mine against his as we sat adjacent to each other.

“I don’t bite,” he said.

I didn’t reply, I just stared down, wondering what he intended for me out of this lesson.

“Are you scared to sleep next to me?”

I nodded.

He turned to me and tilted his head to the side, “Why? You still worry that I may…”

I nodded aggressively, pleading in silence for him not to finish his sentence. He leaned in close to my ear and whispered, “I won’t hurt you.”

He pulled away from me and lay back, his feet hanging slightly over the futon.

“Now get in here. We need to sleep.”

“How are you so sure I won’t run away?”

He chuckled, “You can try.”

I’d only been messing with him. I didn’t think I had it in me to try to run away again, not with him sleeping next to me. It was too risky. I’d seen how quickly he could change from compassionate to cold-hearted. I didn’t want to put myself in worse danger.

I lay back next to him on the bed. He got up and shut the light off. His footsteps came slowly across the floor and he lay back on the futon, exhaling loudly. He closed his eyes and he began to mutter to himself in Italian.

“What are you whispering?”

“The Lord’s Prayer.”

“Are you asking for forgiveness?”

“I always do.”

He resumed his hush whispering for another minute and then he sighed and exhaled again. I couldn’t help but look over at him. My eyes had adjusted to the darkness and he didn’t seem to be aware of the fact that I was staring at him, imprinting my captor’s face on my memory.

The moonlight came in through a small window and reflected off his arctic blue eyes. His soft brown hair fell across his face and some of it plastered to his neck as he grew warmer and lost in thought. His brows remained furrowed and scowled.

I shifted slightly and it was enough to draw his attention to me. He turned towards me in the dark and whispered, “What are you doing?”

I whispered back, “Just looking.”

“Like what you see?” He teased, still whispering.

“No,” I replied, “You’re —”

“Terrifying?” He finished for me.

I nodded.

“Not so.”

That was it. I’d watched him kill a man in cold blood but his only response was “Not so”.

“You’re intriguing,” I whispered.

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