Page 10 of A Game So Reckless

Her grip weakens on my arm. As if she’s going to let go. Give up. Like making a deal with the mad devil Darragh is a far worse fate than death.

It probably is.

But then, at the last second, she forces strength back into her fingers, squeezing my arm one final, searing time.

She’s made her choice.

And I, apparently, have made mine.

I don’t know why. And I’m fairly certain this choice will fuck me up the ass someday. Maybe someday soon.

But I’m not going to let the Titoneprincipessadie tonight.

Without even realizing I’m doing it until it’s already done, I brush my lips lightly over hers.

Then, I step swiftly behind her back. I lock my fists together in front of her. Before I drive them hard against her belly, I put my mouth to her ear and whisper, “Every breath you breathe belongs to me now, pet.”

One. Two. Three hard slams of my fists below her ribs. Three times her body is jerked violently in response, the same way it would if I were thrusting into her instead of just against her. My front feels hot where she makes contact, like I’ve been sunburned. Toronto humidity and the sweet scent of her hair swirl around me, intoxicating fog.

When the food dislodges and she takes her first sobbing, ragged breath, I realize I’m hard.

Valentina sags heavily in my arms. I adjust my grip, one hand flattening against her belly, the other going to her throat, pinning her against me as she coughs and splutters.

I saw the pictures in the news. I know her birthday, with its giant, gaudy party, was last week. But I can’t help but feel like today is her true birthday. Like she’s taking her first breath all over again. A second chance at life. A life that I now own.

Valentina Titone is mine.

I’m not precisely sure what that means yet. All I know is that it’s true.

There’s screaming below. Sirens stab the air. Vincenzo’s men will no doubt be up here any second, pouring out of that other elevator like hornets. The police won’t be far behind.

“Goodbye for now, pet,” I whisper. “Don’t tell anyone it was me.”

Me who killed him

Me who saved you.

I drag Valentina to the closest couch and dump her shaking body into a heap atop the cushions before I leave.

My arm bleeds all the way home.

Chapter6

Valentina

Isquint through blurry eyes, struggling to rise into a seated position on the creamy cushions. My head somehow feels both heavier and lighter than it should, pounding and wobbly atop my neck. My throat aches like someone tried to shove a big rock right down the length of it.

But I can breathe.

I can breathe.

I feel like I’m coming up for air after drowning in some terrible dream. A dream that swirls with images of long strides, blue jeans, and rust-red hair. Tattoos. And the strangest set of eyes I’ve ever seen. One hazel-green, one dark brown. Both impossible to look away from.

Darragh Gowan.

Was he really here? The more I stabilize, the more my heart returns to its usual, not-dying rhythm, the less it,he, seems real. There’s no sign of him now. No sign of him or my fiancé.

Latefiancé.

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