Page 28 of Isle of Pain

The microwaves beeps and he takes the steaming plate out. The smell of homemade cooked pasta in cherry tomatoes sauce wafts towards me, and my stomach grumbles louder, pulling a smile on Nico’s pierced lips.

“Eat, Marie,” he says and I frown. Receiving orders from him sends a chill to my spine—not a good one—and I click my tongue.

“I’m sorry.” He bows his head slightly. “My mother made the lasagna for Friday’s dinner at Andrea's. Would you like some?”

“Yes, thank you, Nico.”

I sit and take my first bite of food since the beginning of the day. Flavours burst on my tongue and my eyes close, savouring. It tastes very different from my Mammona’s recipe and I think that might be why I love it even more. My heart clenches at the reminder that I basically fled my family including her. If someone never made me feel like a burden, it’s my grandmother but I still died a little more each day, isolated in that big house full of life.

“You’re trembling. Are you cold?” Nico asks and pulls me out of my daydreams. Or are they nighttime thoughts? It’s past nine in the evening after all.

“No.”

The trembling is automatic when my body misses the alcohol I’ve got it accustomed to.

“Do you need a drink?”

My mouth gapes open. I’ve never hidden from him but his brutal honesty is disconcerting and makes me want to lash out and hide. His eyes retain no disdain or disgust that yes, my body needs it, so I simply answer. “Yes”.

Nico gets up and pulls a can out of his fridge. “Here. It’s a low alcohol beer. Going cold turkey isn’t going to cut it. I also want you to use me when you need to drink.”

“What?” I sputter around a mouthful of lasagna.

Usehim? I’m a virgin and I barely know him. What sort of proposition is that? That’s not only an unconventional approach, it’s ridiculous. Besides, what is he going to do on top of offering sexual favours? Enable me? I still have Ember to take care of. She hasn’t woken up in hours and I know she’ll cry for her first night bottle soon.

“I said ‘I want you to use me when you need to drink’.”

“I heard you loud and clear, Nico.” I cross my arms, plate discarded in front of me. My hand itches with the need to lift the beer to my lips. I don’t even like beer. But I do like the promise of relief from the ache in my system. “I have no clue what you mean and I didn’t come here to play games. Explain.”

Slowly, Nico drops his fork and dabs his luscious mouth with a napkin, leaving the kitchen island to sit on the sofa. It’s not the first time I’m alone with this man while he sits as if setting himself lower than me. The butterflies taking flight in my stomach have nothing to do with the need for alcohol for once and everything with the killer in front of me. Of course I know what role Nico plays in our chess board of underground organisations, but he’s letting me have the upper hand. My head swims with the power of it.

Nico cranes his neck ever so slightly to look up at me. Driven by a force stronger than the one coursing through my hands and directing me to the glass bottle, I rise and walk to stand in front of him. “Use you, how?” I articulate each word.

“Anyway you like,” he answers, his eyes glowing with what I think is trepidation behind the amber irises.

I lick my lips involuntarily.

The tether between us is taut and pulls me to him. Our eyes stay locked as I rise and close the distance separating me from him until I stand just in front of his knees. When he doesn’t move, I raise a brow. Nico opens his legs until I can step in between. My chest swells with pride as he does exactly what I want and I give him a gentle smile. What is it with this dynamic that makes me crave more?

His eyes shine with eagerness, his hands clasped on his thighs like he’s trying his best not to reach for me. The cocktail is heady.

“Are you offering to distract me, Nico?”

He nods.

“Use your words.”

“Yes, Miss Marie.” I almost groan and bite my lip instead. “I didn’t think you’d take that road. I thought you’d want to talk but I’m not complaining.”

“Are you offering your body as a distraction, Nico?” I ask, tilting my head to the side, trying to gauge his interest.

My heart beats inside my ribcage, expecting rejection and more disappointment. I don’t recognise myself. I’m not interested in intimacy like that. At least not until now. Not until him. I haven’t taken a sip of that beer but I’m drunk on something else. Something I don’t know how to name but as powerful. Is that why he’s offering? Does he know what he does to me?

16

MARIE

NO MORE HIDING MY SADNESS

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