Page 33 of Bittersweet Endings
A chill ran through me as I thought about the man who was a ghost in my heart. Marco wasn’t the kind to buy into paranoia. He didn’t spook easy. But the way he looked now—damn haunted—made my hackles rise.
“Who?” I asked, concerned about what the hell was going on.
He let out a breath, finally looking at me. “Her name was Tessa. At least, I think it was.”
“The girl I met at Lucky’s club?” My brows knitted as he nodded. “What do you meanthink?”
“You know me and chicks. I don’t settle, but she didn’t put up with my shit. She was different from the rest. Still, I liked her.” He paused, rubbing a hand over his face. “But Apollo and Lucky always said being around me was dangerous. You especially know what I mean. All the attention this family gets, all the people who get hurt along the way to get to us. Until now, I always thought they were being dramatic. With her… But then…” His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Then she disappeared.”
I didn’t interrupt him. I just let him keep talking. I remembered the girl. They were partying in VIP together. She spoke French and had an air ofway too goodfor him. Gorgeous. Smart. I didn’t want to tell him that the girl probably wanted a fling, then went back to her normal life.
“I don’t mean she stopped answering me. More than that. Nosocial media. No apartment. The friends she introduced me to didn’t really know who I was talking about. Hell, I started thinking I made her up. Like she was some kind of dream I got too attached to.” He let out a bitter chuckle. “But I know I didn’t. You know she was real. And I think she got hurt because of me.”
A silence stretched on between us. I studied my brother carefully, weighing the fear behind his words. It wasn’t guilt alone; it was something worse. He really believed this girl was gone. Maybe dead. More than that, he worried it was his fault.
“You think someone did something to her?” I pressed.
Marco exhaled, long and slow. “I don’t know. And I don’t think I want to know.”
“Well, we have the capabilities to find out. But first, I think you need to make sure you can deal with whatever the truth is. If you can’t, don’t go sniffing. Trust me, it never ends well.”
“Yeah.” He finished another drink. “I’ll take you home.” He nodded towards Rocco with his arm around the blonde. “Let him enjoy his night.”
I smirked, sending Rocco a quick text. He glanced back, and I wiggled my fingers at him. He whispered something to the girl and she nodded. Ever the gentleman, he then helped her from her seat and out the door.
“At least someone is getting laid.” I sighed.
Marco spit out his drink, the amber liquid dripping onto his chin. “Don’t… Don’t ever…” He cringed. “I know we fucked up protecting you more than once, but?—”
I snarled, leaning across the table. “But I’m not allowed to have sex when you’re a whore? And you?—”
“Whoa, retract the claws and let me finish.”
I sipped my drink, silently seething.
“I meant, I’ve fucked countless girls and it never made anyone feel better. Maybe it was just survival. Maybe it wasmore.” Even as he said it, he frowned. “To you, it was probably a mix of both. But make sure it’s what you want before giving it up again.” And his words landed like cement in my stomach.
Heavy. Final. Meant to crush.
I’d told myself it hadn’t been real. That whatever had existed between us—if anything ever did—had just been manipulation dressed up in lust. Because there was no way I was naïve enough to fall for Carmine Ragetti. No way I’d let my guard down for a man like that.
The things he’d done to me... The way he’d peeled me open with nothing but his hands, his mouth, his body. I’d told myself it was survival. My brain making pleasure out of pain, twisting the unbearable into something intoxicating just so I wouldn’t shatter.
But that had been a lie.
The unbearable part was knowing it had to end. Knowing we were enemies. That this—us—had been doomed before it ever began. I was meant to make my family suffer. Instead, it was me who had been on a never-ending roller coaster of self-loathing.
Even now, with him gone, my body still ached for him. I still craved the bruising grip of fingers that knew every inch of me. I still felt the ghost of his teeth dragging down my throat, the way he’d made me shudder, the way he’d made me surrender to what my body wanted from him.
I should have hated him.
Yet, the truth, the inescapable truth, was that I’d loved every goddamn second of it. Every rough, possessive, dark second. Carmine had marked me in ways I couldn’t erase. Ways that superseded the shit Peiro had carved into my flesh.
“Will you come to California with me?” I asked Marco, knowing he’d planned to come anyway, but the invite was my version of tentative peace.
“Is she hot?”
I leaned across the table and punched his arm.
