Page 71 of Where Dark Hearts Devour
The second I close the door I exhale a long breath. I’m proud of myself for walking away. The temptation to step up to him and run my fingers through his hair, pull his lips onto mine, is so great it makes me acheeverywhere.
I open the closet and pull out the brand-new shorts-and-top pajama set Cristiano bought, and change into it. I’m so tired, but every inch of my skin is on fire. I can’t even pull the shorts up my bare thighs without having to pause and take a breath.
Eventually, I pull back the covers. I’m about to collapse onto the soft mattress when I remember his words. Not the ones where he instructed me to leave the door unlocked, but the ones where he told me to do the exact opposite.
I now know what he wanted to keep me safe from. What he doesn’t know is that task is now mine. I’m the oneheneeds to be kept safe from.
His confession this evening told me everything I need to know. He doesn’t have the strength to stay away, so I’ll have to find it for us both.
With this resolve I walk to the door, ignore his instruction, and click the lock. Then, in minutes, I’m lying under a soft, newly laundered comforter, fast asleep.
Cristiano
I lie awake, my hand wrapped around my semi-hard cock, but I can’t get myself off. I seem to have a permanent semi these days, but nothing I do will sate it. With my gaze trained on the ceiling, I listen for the smallest noise coming from the spare bedroom down the hall, but unlike last night, there’s nothing but silence.
I should be relieved for her. No nightmares tonight.
I wanted to ask her about them, but she seemed to close off the second I asked how she slept. I respected her wish to change the topic, but if it happens again, I’m coaxing that shit out of her.
I glance at the clock, but time has only moved on by five minutes. I sigh and avert my gaze back to the ceiling. It’s going to be one hell of a long night.
I’ve half-drifted off when I hear it.
A wounded moan seeps beneath my door, and I sit bolt upright. My pulse pounds through my ears, but she’s so agitated I can hear her above it.
The moaning intensifies. It’s dragged out in long breaths and builds up to quiet, terrified screams.
At the first “No!” I leap out of bed and run down the hall. Something tells me this isn’t a rare occurrence, and I’m not letting her go through another night of this alone.
I reach the door and turn the handle, but it’s jammed.
I blink and try again, my heart beating faster at the pitch of her cries.
It’s locked.Damn it.
I ram the side of my body up against it, but—security-obsessed maniac that I am—I had all the doors and locks reinforced when I bought this place. There’s only one thing for it. I run back to my room and retrieve my gun from the nightstand.
When I return to her door, I hear the bed creaking under her sobs. It sounds like she’s clawing at the mattress.
I stand back and aim the gun at the lock, then I fire three silenced bullets through the steel. The door swings open, and my gun clatters across the wooden floor. In a beat I’m on the bed, on my knees, my hands cupping her shoulders.
“Castellano, wake up . . .”
I gently shake her, but she’s so lost to her nightmares she doesn’t even flinch. Her body is curved into the fetal position, and sweat pours down her temples. I have to wake her.
“No!” she cries out again. “Please don’t ...”
I freeze as the realization hits me. I know exactly where she is. She’s sitting in the back of a car, pleading with a gunman to not shoot her mother.
I sit back on my heels.
She’s held this in on her own for far too long.
I know why she’s done it, and I can hardly blame her. She doesn’t want to burden her family with the horror of what she saw that day. But enough is enough. She has to share her pain with someone, and selfishly, I want to be the one who takes it all away.
I release her shoulders and lift her up. Her small fists press against me, trying to push me away, and her screams rock her entire body. “Please, no ... Please don’t ...”
“Shh.” I shift slowly to the head of the bed and pull her into my chest. Her cries have mellowed into distraught, uncontrollable sobs that shake the length of her spine. “Shh ... I’ve got you.”
