Page 88 of His Juliet

A lifeless Juliet floated on top of the blood—herblood. “Juliet!” My scream pierced the air, filled with an agony too great for my body to hold. I tilted my head up to the heavens. “I’ll do anything! Take me instead!” But all I heard was silence. I was forced to watch, helpless, as the woman I loved drowned in her own blood.

I choked, my chest constricting.

Soft hands brushed my face. “Shh, you’re okay. I’m here.”

Sobs racked my chest as I desperately tried to move my legs.

“You’re having a nightmare. It’s not real. I’ve got you.”

Something shook my shoulders, and I opened my eyes with a hoarse gasp. A hand stroked my face and I snatched the person’s wrist, ready to attack. But then her scent reached me—sweet vanilla.

“You’re safe. It wasn’t real. Just a bad dream.”

I eased my grasp on her wrist. “Juliet?”

“I’m here.”

I let out another shuddering sob at her sweet voice. I reached out into the dark and dragged her onto my chest, wrapping my arms tight around her and burying my face in her hair. She wrapped her arms and legs around me, holding on tight.

“Are you really here?” I asked.

She squeezed my arm. “I’m here.”

“Don’t leave me, Juliet. I can’t handle a world without you in it.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Gentle fingers brushed away my tears, and I couldn’t even feel embarrassed for crying.

I’d kept a firm hold on my memories today, shoving them to the back of my mind so I could focus on Juliet. But finding her, hurt and bleeding, had broughtthatday back. The day my papà died and I lost my mamma. I’d gotten to her before they killed her, but I couldn’t save her from the torture and trauma they’d inflicted. And in my effort to free her, I’d increased her suffering. I’d fought through a small force of traitorous men, feeling nothing as I cut them down with cold ease. When I reached her, covered in their blood, she looked at me with horror, seeing her son fully for the violent monster he was. That was the first day my darkness rose fully to the surface.

Mamma had been a shell of herself in the days that followed. She wouldn’t leave the house, wouldn’t talk, wouldn’t eat. Being around me seemed to cause her physical pain, so I threw myself into helping Matteo secure his place as Don. One day, she said she wanted to move back to Italy. I was ashamed to admit I’d felt instant relief—this was something I could do to help her, and it meant that I wouldn’t have to face the evidence of my failure every day. I bought her a home in Italy where she could leave the past behind, but that past haunted me. Every time I looked in the mirror, I was reminded of the monster she’d seen in me.

How could anyone accept me like this?

And yet, Juliet was on top of me, stroking her fingers through my hair, her hand down my face, murmuring comforting words like I had done for her earlier today.

I wanted to be a man worthy of her affection.

At one point, she tried to move off of me, but I tightened my hold.

“I don’t want to crush you.” Her lips brushed against my neck as she spoke. My hand went to the back of her head and held her closer.

“You’re not.”

“Okay.” She wiggled a little, settling in more.

Each breath she took against my chest eased my panic until I finally drifted off again.

45

JULIET

I groanedwhen a strip of sunlight hit my eyelids and dragged me from sleep. I went to bury my face in my pillow so I could get a few more minutes before my alarm went off when I realized my head wasn’t on a pillow.

It was on Romeo.

Before I could panic about having spent the night on top of him, his hand moved up and down my back in a tender, soothing motion. I relaxed into his touch, breathing steadily to slow my racing heart. I was not a morning person, but if I could wake up like this every day, I might just be converted.

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