Page 82 of Vito

Having no idea how I manage it, I somehow keep my impassive mask firmly in place. I stalk across the barroom, ignoring everyone.

I need to get into my office and away from all these prying eyes before I completely lose my shit.

Chapter 23

Eden

Ihavetore-typethe code a few times because I hit the wrong keys as the shaking in my hands escalates.

I can feel a phantom swell of my stomach and womb.

I can feel the painful grips on my arms and legs. How my father helped them hold me down; how my mother fastened the restraints.

I can feel the horror as they performed the heinous act of taking an innocent life away from the young mother who wanted that life, who would've sacrificed what she needed to raise her child.

I can feel the pain afterward.

God, thepain.

Both the physical and emotional.

I'm blind now; even though my eyes are open, I can't see anything. I don't know how I got into my office, but I shut and locked the door, my hands hardly working.

Ohith always warned that something I'd never see coming would force me to face this, that it would break me. But I'mdetermined not to let that happen. I just need to repress the swell of memories.

Gasping for air, I lean against the door and slide down to the floor. I hug my knees to my chest, put my forehead on them, and try to regain control.

In the nine years since my forced abortion, I've encountered pregnant women, babies, and young children. But in this world, at Gilly's, this isn't the norm of where you'd find things like that, and I wasn't mentally prepared for it.

My eyes burn as I hold back the tears and emotions that want to shred my soul. I never let myself face what happened to me; I always shove it away and bury it as deep as I can.

I can do that now. I just need a minute.

However, the shaking in my hands isn't abating. Neither is the burn in my eyes or the pain in my chest and stomach.

Dragging in a ragged breath, I try to breathe, willing myself to calm and mentally erect my walls to keep out the memories. But my walls aren't strong or high enough. The torment is pushing in and is going to eat me alive.

The pain I've suppressed for so many years now demands my full and complete attention.

It's done being ignored, done being shoved down. It's done letting me get away with my stubbornness and weakness, and it's demanding I pay the debt owed that has been compounding for years.

Memories overwhelm me.

The feelings of hands on me, the sounds of my screams… It all assaults me at once, cascading over me, ripping and pulling at my walls and my heart, mind, and soul to tear it all down. To rip everything to shreds.

A harsh sob chokes out of me as I feel like I'm being ripped in half, physically and mentally. Another sob, destroyed andshattered, chokes me, and I bury my face deeper against my knees.

Suddenly, I'm being lifted off the floor and held in a pair of strong arms against a hard chest.

Vito.

Instantly, I feel safe—and a bit stronger to face the memories as they flood my mind. The tortured pain is still there, but where before I felt like I'd shatter, I feel like I can withstand it now.

Another sob rips from my wounded, broken soul, even though the pain continues to lessen.

Vito's strong arms wrap fully around me. The thunder of his heartbeat is under my cheek. His touch grounds and connects me to him. He holds me in his lap on the sofa. His hand runs through my hair, then cups my head, holding me tighter to his chest as my whole body shakes.

He doesn't speak or ask questions; he gives me his quiet strength to face this soul-wrenching past. In his arms, I can face what I never could before.

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