Page 42 of Petrichor

My growl makes Luca snort. God, if he wasn’t so huge, I’d definitely rearrange that gangster face of his. You know what? Who cares about his size? I’m about to take a step his way when Marco moves in front of me, blocking Luca from my eyes. Both his hands grab at my biceps, and he gives my body a shake.

A demanding grunt leaves his lips; his eyes are darker than usual, and when he talks, his voice is all rumbly and gruff. “Tell me where you think you’re going in the rain, pretty Butterfly.”

Rain? I wish! It’s only a few drops. “I can go wherever the fuck I want, and what the hell was that in the apartment?” I knock my fists against his hard chest.

“You want to live in a faulty building?” His lips tighten and, fuck,how much I want to bite them, to punish him. To show him I’m right fucking here. Why can’t he see me?

“That wasn’t a faulty building, and it’s all I can afford at the moment,” I hiss, pushing up on the tips of my feet. He smells like tobacco and succulent fruits.

“I told you to stay at my place. Why do you want to waste money?”

Because the more I save, the quicker I go. He’s such a handsome dick! And that’s the problem. One night at his place, and my dirty fantasy land doubled in size. I need to leave, or I’m going to do something I’ll regret, like begging him to fuck me. I’ll humiliate myself since he hasn’t shown any interest in me after that night. Maybe I should get him drunk like Art said.

“The housecleaner-slash-assistant doesn’t sleep at the boss’s house. Plus,youdon’t want me there,” I yell as a drop of rain falls on my nose. I can actually feel his uneasiness about my presence from another room.

“I can manage,” he says with a bored tone, as he lets me go to wipe away the wetness on my nose. The casual and intimate way he touched me makes me freeze for a second, but then his words register.

Manage. Manage? A bitter laugh rips out of my mouth. Why do I feel this unilateral pull toward him when I’m just a nuisance to him? Am I an idiot for clinging to the past? To a memory? A memory that he tossed away?

My gaze turns to the shop window behind him—suddenly all the anger is replaced by sorrow. It’s filled with crystals. I move a foot toward it, stunned by the incredible sight. While it’s still gently raining, the sun peeks between the heavy gray clouds. The frail afternoon light is kissing the different crystals, giving life to colorful rainbows all around.

I feel the tears forming inside my eyes as the memory of my brother, all bones and warmth, pops into my mind.

“Do you knowPollyanna?” I whisper. “My brother and I found the book when we were kids.” My voice is filled with melancholy, the pain of losing him is still there even after ten long years. Maybe because I really thought I could find him again, that I could finally feel like I belonged with someone again.

“In one chapter, she enters a room filled with crystals hanging from the ceiling, I think. They splash the walls with colors as the sunlight hits. My brother and I wondered what it’d look like.”Otherworldly.It’s a sight beyond comprehension, a reminder that there is beauty everywhere if you just look.

Warm fingers grip my chin before Marco turns my head to face him. He’s studying me, his eyes brimming with such profound intensity that I feel my heart stop, and my breath gets stuck inside my chest. His touch is burning my skin. His grasp strong and gentle at the same time. The shop’s awning is shielding us, creating shadows on his wavy hair. I’ve never seen locks so dark before.

He’s so formidable, striking, impossible to ignore.

“You have a brother?”

The pain of losing him has lessened from an uncontrollable throb of agony to a light, constant burning. But I still miss him fiercely. And I don’t like to talk about it.

“I did,” I whisper, willing the next wave of tears aside. Am I imagining the softness in his eyes?

“Let’s go home.” His command breaks the spell as his fingers slide away. “Your lunch break is over, and I have work to do.”

Chapter Six

Fly

Ijerk awake, clawing at my t-shirt as I try to suck air inside my lungs. Cold sweat rolls down my spine as images of the past clutter my mind. I can still feel his hands on me, bruising, breaking, hurting. Hearing his insults, his denigrating words. I haven’t had this nightmare in a while. Why tonight?

The trauma from the past fucked me up a little or a lot—I mean I’m sleeping on the floor when there’s a perfectly comfortable bed a few feet from me.

The bedroom is surrounded by darkness. I move my hand over the floor in search of my cell, but I can’t find it. I’m shivering on top of my sleeping bag, alone. Utterly alone. It doesn’t matter how many times I tell myself it was just a nightmare, that my father is six feet under. That I’m not a kid anymore. The fear is still clinging to my bones. And the only way to chase it away is to feel. I need to feel safe, even if only for a few hours.

As I crawl on the floor I count the steps—old habits die hard—until I bump against the wooden surface of the door and pull myself up, holding on the knob.

I’m not being rational, but I don’t care. The deep urge to take the loneliness away is too strong to be ignored. My unsteady legs take me to his bedroom. The door is not locked, so I walk inside. The night’s light filtering through a crack in the curtains shows me the outline of his sleeping body on the bed. The sight submerges me with relief, and for a while, I stand there bathing in him.

But it’s not enough. I urge myself to stop as I’m about to climb onto the bed. Marco is not my brother, nor a hookup. He doesn’t want me here. My body starts trembling again and tears roll down my cheeks as I bite my lower lip until I taste the rich flavor of blood.

“What are you doing?” Marco’s rough voice is like a switch being turned on. I place my knee on the sheets with the intention of lying down next to him, but the world turns upside down, and I find myself under a growly beast.

A sob leaves my lips at the feel of his fierce grip around my wrists, his warm breath on my face, those intense eyes shining in the almost darkness.

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