Page 28 of Devil's Tulip

He should have fucking kissed me.

I gasp, snapping my eyes open and shaking my head furiously like that will somehow rattle the thoughts loose. What the hell am I thinking? “That image is going to haunt me for the rest of my life, isn’t it?” My sigh echoes off the bathroom walls as I get into the shower.

I crank the tap as cold as it goes and yelp the second the punishing spray hits me. The shock knocks the air from my lungs, but it does little to douse the fever licking at my nerve endings. If anything, the icy deluge only sharpens the hypersensitivity buzzing beneath my skin. Makes every inch of me feel raw. New.

Gritting my teeth, I turn my face into the frigid torrent, breathing through the full-body shudder as the cold sinks barbed hooks into my flesh.

Let it ground you, I coach myself, even as my nipples pucker painfully and goosebumps rise down my arms.Remind you of what’s real. Of what matters.

Survival. Freedom. Staying one step ahead of the monsters snapping at my heels. That’s what matters. Not the traitorous clench between my thighs. Not the hollow ache in my chest.Wash him away.

By the time I step out, my teeth are chattering, and I can’t feel my toes. But hey, my clit has retreated back into my body, so I’m counting it as a win.

I’m not thinking of him anymore.

I should have licked a line down the fiery burst of colors of that phoenix on his chest when I had the chance.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

I smack my forehead, trying to physically dislodge the thought. This isn’t helping. Nothing’s helping.

Grabbing a towel, I scrub my skin roughly, skin pinking under the harsh treatment. Then I make my way back to the bedroom and pause, debating whether to grab fresh clothes from my backpack.

I decide against it.

If I’m running away from Michael tonight, I need to keep my clothes as clean as possible. No telling when I’ll next find a laundromat.

Or you just want to spend more time in his clothes.

“Shut up,” I whisper to my brain as I get under the covers.

It sure would benice to have a hot, muscular body to cuddle.

My nipples harden.

“Shut the hell up,” I repeat, fiercely. I can’t afford to get aroused again.

I try to empty my mind, but the rogue organ between my ears keeps shoving Michael back in. So I force it elsewhere, to something darker. Something painful—the life I left behind.

Uncle Aldo. Aunt Marie. Dario.

That does the trick. But instead of the more recent horrors, my brain takes a detour, dragging me further back—years back.

The day I arrived at their home.

The day after the incident that cost my parents their lives.

“This is going to be your new home, Gigi. What do you think?” My uncle Aldo’s voice is soft, his smile small as he waves towards the huge mansion looming before us.

My heart aches as I watch the beautiful, shiny house. I don’twanta new home. I want my home. I want my mom and dad.

Tears spill down my cheeks, my trembling lips barely able to form words. I clutch my teddy bear tighter, my fingers curling around my mom’s necklace like a lifeline.

Uncle Aldo crouches in front of me when I don’t answer. “I know how heartbroken you must be right now, Gigi. Cesare and I lost our parents when we were just a little older than you, and it was like someone suddenly turned off the sun. Everything was dark.”

I lift my gaze to his blurry face. That’s exactly how I feel. Like the sun, the moon, the stars—the whole universe—have just been taken from me.

More tears spill down my cheeks, and he raises a hand to gently wipe them away.

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