Page 79 of Brutal Legacy

“Okay, then, where is he? You called all the prisons and jails, every single hospital in the country near enough. Where is he?”

I didn’t have an answer for that.

Tommaso looked furious and wretched as he twisted the cap of the cheap wine and took a swig. “He should be here. Even if it cost him everything, he should find a way. He ran away, Georgia. Took the money and ran. Fuck him.”

I glared at Tommaso. “Stop it.”

“No, I won’t stop it. Fuck that guy. Something happened, or not… but he should be here. It’s been a month.”

“Stop. Just stop. Don’t try and make me hate him.”

“You should hate him. He fucked up your life and broke your heart. Hate him, Georgia, and move the fuck on. You have to live… you have to live.” He pulled me close. “My dearest, sweet friend… you have to live. If you have to hate him to live, then hate him.”

“How can I live? Here, in that house where we were together?” A sob caught in my throat. So, I could still cry, after all?

“No, not here. Fuck here. Fuck your father, and Castel Amaro.”

Tommaso fixed me with a determined look. “I know it’s not New York, or Parsons, but California has a great design school, too.”

“And?”

“And — my internship begins in a few weeks. Come with me. Live in your mother’s homeland… forget everything here. Come with me to America. My parents want to set me up with some girl, a family friend over there, and see me married. I can’t, Georgia, I just can’t. Come with me instead.”

“What? I can’t come with you. My father would never let me and?—”

“He would if we got married. Marry me, Georgia. Agree to be my lawfully wedded bestie, my fake wife, make my parents happy, and let’s get the fuck out of here, together.”

22

ELIO

Now

Staff came early to get Georgia ready for the wedding. I hadn’t gone back to sleep. I couldn’t lie near her for hours, waiting for the moment. The temptation was too strong.

My identity had been built on a battlefield, forged from the pain and loss of the end of my youth, and the reason for it all was lying sleeping, her beautiful face tearstained and red, her hands bound to the bed. My bed. If I wasn’t careful, I’d want to keep her right there, fuck the wedding. If I wasn’t careful…

I went for a run as soon as dawn broke and then waded into the small lake to the west of the property. The cold water shocked my breath away but soothed the hot, burning sensation in my belly. My gut was churning. My heart was pounding. Last month, I’d have been able to swear that I hadn’t felt the presenceof that particularly weak organ in my chest for years, fourteen, to be exact.

Now, a mere week after being around Georgia again, and I was crumbling. All my steely composure and hard-won mental fortitude, swept away like so many grains of worthless sand.

I returned to the house and headed for the kitchen. I wasn’t going to hang around and watch Georgia get dressed to marry another man.

I drank coffee and watched Carmella get lunch ready, directing her staff like a drill sergeant. Carmella was a fixture of Casa Nera.

“Ebbene,” she said, sitting heavily across from me. “You seem glum this morning.”

“This is just my face,” I reminded her.

She scoffed and frowned at me. “Are you wet? You better not be getting that seat wet.”

“I can’t go back to my rooms. Someone is in there,” I said.

“Ah, yes. Our blushing bride. I swear, you, Giada, and Renato — at one point I’d thought the three of you would all die alone, and yet… you’re the last man standing. Don’t you want to settle down, too?”

I sighed. “I’m not the marrying type. I don’t hate anyone enough to marry them.” I gave her a rare, crooked smirk.

She laughed and shook her head.

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