Page 145 of Pietro
The admission hurts more than it should. Not because he's holding back, but because I believe him. His entire existence has been consumed by duty, by loss, by survival.
"Okay," I whisper. "Then what about you? What do you want to know?"
"Your mother?—"
"The years when she was alive were good." The memory aches, but it's a familiar pain now. "But after? It was just surviving. Becoming what my father—what Connor wanted. Playing the perfect daughter."
"And now?"
"Now I want to make memories." The words surprise me as I say them. "Real ones. Things I've never done before."
His fingers resume their gentle path along my shoulder. "Like what?"
"I don't know yet. But I want to find out. I want to do things that are mine. Not because someone told me to, or because I'm hiding, or running."
"You're not running anymore."
"No." I press my lips to his chest, right over his heart. "I'm not."
His arm tightens around me, pulling me closer. "Then we'll make new memories. Both of us."
"You mean that?"
"I don't say things I don't mean, Nora."
I believe him.
"What would you want?" I ask. "If you could do anything. Be anyone."
He's quiet for so long I think he won't answer. Then: "I'd want this."
"This?"
"You. Here. Safe." His voice roughens. "I'd want to keep you."
It's not a declaration of love. Pietro doesn't do those. But it's close. Closer than I expected.
"Then keep me," I whisper.
His hand cups the back of my head, fingers threading through my hair. "I intend to."
I trace the outline of his ribcage through the thin fabric of his shirt. My splinted fingers make the movement awkward, but I don't stop.
"Do you want to talk about it?" I ask quietly. "What you did to Declan?"
His body goes rigid beneath me. Not with tension, exactly. More like he's bracing for impact.
"No."
"Pietro—"
"He got what he deserved." His voice is flat. Final. "That's all there is to say."
I know what he means. I heard the whispers from Lorenzo. Saw the blood on Liam's boots when he came to check on me at the clinic. Pietro made Declan suffer. Made him scream. Made him beg.
I should be horrified.
But I am not.
