Page 57 of Bittersweet Endings
He was out there, drenched in blood and vengeance, setting the city on fire. And here I was, suddenly worried for him.
Maybe Apollo’s diagnosis was right.
No. It was because my body still remembered him. No man had ever touched me the way Carmine had. No man had ever ruined me the way he had. And no man had protected me the way he still was.
I clenched my jaw, pushing off the door and pacing the room. My mind spun, flashing back to the nights we’d lost ourselves in each other. The way he’d looked at me. Like I was his, like he was never going to let me go.
I shouldn’t call him. I should not call him.Don’t you dare call him.
But my hand was already reaching for my phone, my fingers betraying me as I pressed his name. The line barely rang twice before he answered, his voice edged with amusement.
“Little doll?”
I could practically feel his breath on my ear. “I saw the news, Carmine. Are you…” I paused.
“Are you worried about me, little doll?”
His words sent a shiver down my spine, settling deep in my bones. I closed my eyes, gripping the phone tighter.
No. Yes. No. Always.
But I couldn’t say that. So instead, I whispered, “Where are you?”
“Why? Will you come to me, little doll? Will you wipe the blood from my body, stitch me back up just to cut me deeper?”
I scoffed, the familiar ache rising in my chest. But I wasn’t about to let him see how much his words stirred inside me. “No,”I snapped, my voice tight with frustration. “I’m not your fucking nurse, Carmine.”
I could hear the smug smile, that infuriating self-assurance. “You sound pissed. What’s the matter, little doll? You don’t like me talking aboutus?”
“There is nous,” I bit out while continuing to pace the room. I wasn’t sure if I was pissed at him or at myself for keeping this call going. But I couldn’t stop it either. I was still tangled in him. Still goddamn consumed by him.
“You want me, Octavia,” he pressed. He knew exactly how to rile me up. “Don’t lie to me. We both know that if I asked you to come to me right now, you would.”
I gritted my teeth. “I’m not your fucking toy anymore, Carmine. You don’t get to say shit like that and expect me to just…”
“Expect you to what?” His arrogance faded slightly, replaced with a challenge. “Tell me, little doll, what would you do if I were standing in front of you right now?”
My stomach twisted, the thoughts of him flooding my mind. “I’d tell you to fuck off,” I said, though the words felt hollow.
Carmine chuckled, that dangerous sound that always made my heart race. “But you won’t. You never do.”
I slammed the phone down on the bedside table, frustration overwhelming me.
Why did I even bother? Why did I keep letting him drag me back into his web? I was so fucking weak when it came to him, and I hated it.
I stared at the phone, my chest tight, the weight of his words pressing on me. The silence in the room felt suffocating. I could still sense the warmth of his voice lingering in my ear, even though I’d hung up.
For a moment, I told myself it was over. That I was done withthis, with him. But the longer I stood there, the more that familiar pull gnawed at me, a need I couldn’t explain.
The phone rang again, cutting through the tension. I picked it up with a trembling hand.
“Do you miss me, little doll?” Carmine’s voice slithered down the line, smooth and certain.
I fought the urge to throw the phone against the wall. “No.”
“You’re really gonna play it like that?” he asked, his tone almost teasing. “You don’t miss me?”
I didn’t answer. Instead, I closed my eyes, digging the heel of my palm into my forehead. “I don’t know what you want from me,” I muttered.
