Page 124 of Bitter Poetry
My thoughts are spiraling. I’m not blameless here. I’ve let Ettore hurt her and done nothing. As for tonight, this is my fault, too. I should have been in the house.
Ettore is going to be out for my blood, too, and I don’t fucking blame him.
A fresh deluge of guilt drags me down, almost bringing me to my knees.
Roman’s radio crackles, and he lifts it to his ear. I lost my earpiece somewhere in the fray, so I don’t have a clue what’s going on.
The shower is still running behind me. I can hear Carmela crying.
The sound is fucking me up.
“The doctor just pulled in the gate. The don is on his way. You’re wanted downstairs.”
I nod. It takes another beat before my feet will move.
CHAPTER 37
CARMELA
The wild hysterics give way to numbness. I’m still shaking uncontrollably as I get out of the shower and let Lillete help me into a robe.
I start to hyperventilate the moment I step out of the bathroom and realize Christian has gone.
I want Christian.
“Carmela?”
This isn’t only about tonight.
It’s about all the other nights and times Ettore put his hands on me.
So many times.
“Carmela?” I can hear the stress in her voice.
My chest starts to saw again. “I can’t do this anymore.” I can’t let Ettore touch me again. We all have a limit, and Cosmo has just delivered me to mine.
“What can I do?” Lillette asks. “How can I help?”
I blink furiously.
“The doctor is here. You must be in pain. Will you let her see you?”
Doctor?
Pain?
The words wake me up. I feel inexplicably heavy.
“I need to sit down.”
We’re next to the bed. I don’t have a clue how I came to be here, and I sink heavily onto it.
A knock sounds on the door.
“It’s the doctor,” Lillette says. “Can I let her in?”
She’s asking me if she can, if I want to.
