Page 35 of The Devil's Den

I grab the blade from him. They’ve never had me use a knife before. Bullets are easier. Shoot and you’re done. This is more personal.

“Let’s go. Hurry up. I have places to be,” he snaps.

I kneel, opening the weapon, lowering it to the man’s neck. My hand’s steady. They don’t like weakness. They’ll punish her for my mistakes.

With a quick breath, I let the knife slice from one side of the man’s throat to the other. Blood oozes with thick drops, seeping steadily.

“You’re gonna fucking bleed out like a pig,” Stan tells the man, slamming his foot into his nose.

I drop the knife beside the body, hoping he’s dead already. This is more suffering than anyone should take. And knowing these people, I doubt he did anything at all.

“Take him back to the house,” Stan tells another, who’s already yanking me away.

Every time I hurt a man, I can’t wait to leave, needing to be with Aida. She’s the only one who makes the world seem right even as it crumbles.

CHAPTERTHIRTEEN

AIDA AGE 18

From the momenthe entered my life, Robby has been my world. I often wonder about his mother and whether she knows who her son is with. I’ve come close to writing her a letter that I know my father would never give her, but I wish for her to know her boy is loved. That he has people who fiercely protect him.

I’ve done my best to care for him, with Ms. Greco’s help. And when she isn’t staying over, I’m all alone with him. The first year was the hardest. I barely slept. He was an awful sleeper. On those days, Ms. Greco was here, taking over night feedings. Thanks to her, I was able to actually catch up on sleep, which is a weird term, because you can’t catch something that’s forever lost.

My father never bothered with him and still doesn’t. I don’t think he’s held him once. Not even as he played on the floor, smiling at him, reaching his little hands for a man who despised him. But Robby didn’t need my father, he had me, Ms. Greco, and Matteo. We gave that baby all the love he ever needed.

“Come on, poop head,” I tell Robby, holding his hand, heading down to see Matteo. “Let’s show him what you made him. He’s going to love it so much.”

Robby’s skills may not be that of Matteo’s, but the kid makes the cutest scribbles I personally have ever seen.

Since I gave Matteo those colored pencils, he’s made picture after picture of us. Pages filled with how he sees me, and in those pages, I’m actually beautiful. I don’t see it, but Matteo says he sees it for the both of us, and it makes me love him even more.

And I do love him. I kind of always did, in one way or another. I don’t know how not to. But every time I try to say those words, they get trapped in my throat. I’m scared. What if my father hears us and stops me from seeing him after that? What if he sends Matteo away or, worse, kills him for it?

Another part of me fears Matteo wouldn’t see me that way, that our kisses have been nothing more than two people who’ve known each other for most of their lives, trapped together.

He’s the only boy I’ve ever been around, felt this much for. He makes me feel like I’m floating. Like the world is something it isn’t. That monsters don’t lurk in the open. I forget it all in his arms.

We make it down to him, and as soon as he sees us, his face instantly brightens.

“Hey there, buddy.” Matteo opens his arms and Robby runs into them, that paper gripped in his fingers. I don’t know which one of them loves the other more, but Matteo is crazy about him.

“Is that for me?” Robby nods with a grin. “Whoa, let me see that,” he says, placing Robby on his lap and taking the drawing from him. He examines the rainbow of colors, no space on the paper left untouched.

“Is that the sun?” Matteo points to the scribble of yellow in the middle.

“Yeah!” Robby flaps his feet excitedly against Matteo’s calf. “This a car.” He points to something I can no longer see.

“A brown car. I like it. Hey, soon you’re going to be drawing better than me.”

Robby giggles, bowing his head into Matteo’s chest.

“I told you he’d like it,” I interrupt, moving closer.

“I totally love it, buddy. May I keep it?”

“Yeah!” He bursts with excitement.

“All right. You can’t take it back now,” Matteo teases.