Page 87 of The Butcher's Wife
“You sold her drugs,” I snap, latching onto the most logical explanation.
Hurt crosses his face, and his fingers dig into the pillow. “She never paid for those. She asked for them, and I brought them to her—you knew the pressure she was under.” He finally meets my eye, his gaze hard and accusing. “You knew her better than anyone.”
“I didn’t know aboutyou,” I choke out before I can stop myself. I slap a trembling hand over my mouth, and the bastard has the fucking gall to look sympathetic as I compose myself. “Why would she hide all this from me? Why would she lie to me?”
He stands but doesn’t move again, staring at her pillow with a lost look in his eye. “She wanted to tell you, but shewas suffocating even before you left. When you married Frederico for her, she thought she had to be perfect to deserve your sacrifice.”
“She didn’t?—”
Russell laughs bitterly. “I told her. Trust me. I told her all the time.” He touches a picture of her on the wall. “Why didn’t you stay in Florida, Annetta?”
He turns toward me, the blame and loss in his eyes like the glare of the sun—too bright to look at directly.
I hate him. After everything I’ve done for Serafina—helping her with school, piano, dance, and even marrying Frederico—she repays me with this. With drugs and a secret lover.
Serafina was the one bright spot in my life, the one good person in our family. I always thought that living in her shadow, my horrible marriage to Frederico, and his mom—all of that wasworth itfor the only person in my life who deserved those sacrifices. All I’d been doing was putting more pressure on her, making her feel like Russell was the only person she could turn to.
I hate her. I hate that she didn’t love me enough to sacrifice for me, that she thought my life could be thrown away to Frederico while she got to stay and live hers. And I hate that she didn’t trust me enough to believe I would’ve made that sacrifice anyway, if she’d told me the truth.
I take a step back, bumping into the wall behind me, and Russell pushes forward.
“I would’ve.” Hate and love and grief for my sister twist together, writhing in my belly like snakes. “If I’d known what was going to happen to her, I would’ve stayed.”
Even if she wouldn’t have done the same for me.
He takes another step forward until he’s breathing downmy neck, his hand rising toward my face. “I can’t forgive you for what you took from me.”
SLAM.
The door crashes open.
“What thefuckare you doing?” Dom stands in the doorway, imposing andfurious.
I’m standing with my back against the wall, tears on my cheeks, and Russell’s too damn close, snatching his hand back from me like he’s guilty of something. Dom surges forward.
“We were talking—” Russell starts, but Dom’s already on him, squeezing his neck and shaking him like a puppy.
“Yeah, that’s the problem. You don’t talk to my wife.” Dom slings him to the ground and lands a swift kick to Russell’s belly.
Russell rolls over and throws up.
All over my sister’s carpet.
“Dom!” I shove his massive body, but he holds me away by my shoulder like I’m nothing as he lands a brutal stomp to Russell’s extended hand. Dom looks over to me as Russell screams in pain.
“What the fuck were you two talking about?” Dom asks.
I wrap my hands around his wrist. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Why the fuck were you crying?”
Russell groans from the floor. “It wasn’t her fault, she?—”
“Shut up, Russell!” Dom and I shout at the same time.
Dom pulls his knife out from his waistband, and Russell scrambles for his gun. Dom kicks his hand, launching the gun across the room, and bursts out laughing when Russell groans, clutching his broken hand to himself.
“You have balls, kid, I’ll tell you that much. But you gotta be a real dumb fuck to talk to my wife in a room alone likethis. How much did they pay you? Because, I’ll tell you now, it wasn’t nearly enough for what I’m about to do to you.”
