Page 47 of The Hate We Breathe
She turns.
Her eyes lock on to mine—wide, wet, terrified. But not of him. Not this time.
Ofme.
A lamb clinging to her butcher, bleeding and loyal.
“Te amo, Mama.”The words scrape past the lump in my throat, too quiet, too broken. I wish she’d say them back. I wish she’ddosomething—run to me, cry, scream. But she just stares.
Like she doesn’t recognize the man standing in the ruins.
Like she’s wondering if I’ll hurt her too.
I tear my gaze from her face—soaked in tears and still stupid with love—and push through the front door. Each step down the porch rips me further from the daze I’ve been floating in. Reality claws its way back in. My side is on fire. My head drums with every heartbeat. My mouth is cotton. Blood and pain coat my tongue.
I should’ve known better.
She won’t leave him.
Shecan’t.
And I was never her savior.
18
JULIET
Scalding hot water runs down the length of my spine, loosening my muscles and helping me to let go of the anxiety and mental reminders today has brought forth. I let a sigh slip from my lips as I tip my head back. I’m not supposed to wash my hair in water this warm because of the color, but God, do I need it. Little droplets of blue slide around my feet and head towards the drain as if I’m bleeding out the rich blood I was born with.
I’m not surprised when the door to the bathroom creaks open, but I am when it’s not Lex’s voice I hear.
“Jules.”
Turning, I glance through the foggy glass of the shower door. I swipe my hand down and Gio’s face comes into view for a moment before the heat causes him to disappear once more behind a wall of condensation and steam.
“Gio?” I reach for the handle, but before I can pop open the door, it’s opening from the other side. My eyes widen as Gio stands in the opening, not seeming to care about the water splashing his pants-clad thighs. He’s still dressed in what he was wearing to the funeral earlier. “What’s wrong?”
He doesn’t answer, but his expression tells me it’s something bad. Silently, Gio undoes the buttons of his shirt, shrugging outof it and letting it drop to the floor. There’s a wound on his side, blood slipping from what looks like a puncture hole.
“What happened to you?” I demand. Silence is my answer as he toes off his shoes and I glance at the doorway to Lex’s bedroom. Lex has to know he’s here. What could have possibly happened?
I turn back as Gio finishes kicking his shoes away, reaching down to rip his socks off as well. He grimaces. That wound in his side must fucking hurt. A moment later, with my eyes wide, I back up to give him room as he steps into the shower—pants still on and only his feet and chest bare.
“Gio…” His name is a whisper of sound as I trace down his ripped abdomen. Water sluices over him, washing away the blood. Thankfully, the wound looks smaller, though it’s clearly somewhat fresh. I frown when my fingers graze the top of his pants.
“Hey, your pants—” I cut myself off as his face gets closer and I note the pain in his eyes and the sagging of his shoulders. Frowning, I don’t argue anymore as Gio comes into the small shower which should only be meant for one person and lets the glass door close behind him.
Hot water and steam fill the space, making it smaller as his body presses into mine. “I need you.” The whisper is a broken plea, a crack in his playboy facade. I recognize the signs of shattering all too well.
My chest clenches. “You have me,” I say.
No other words need to be spoken. No other questions need to be asked. I open my arms and he doesn’t hesitate. Gio collapses into me like I’m the last thing holding him to this earth. His head drops against my shoulder, face pressed into the wet curve of my neck. The water scalds my skin, but the heat is nothing compared to the searing ache in my chest.
It’s an odd feeling of vulnerability to be surrounded by such masculine strength, naked while he’s still somewhat clothed. Yet, I don’t feel like the one in danger now. I feel like the protector.
I’ve seen Gio angry. I’ve seen him violent, ruthless, and I’ve seen him as the wicked seducer that so many girls have fallen for. But this? This is worse. This is raw. This is him stripped bare in a way I never even knew I’d be privy to, but he’s seen me the same. Gio has witnessed me at my lowest and he’s protected me still. I’d die before rejecting him now.
His breath saws out, uneven. A sound escapes him—half snarl, half sob—something feral and broken that rips through me. There’s a hint of desperation in the way he holds on to me. I wrap my arms tighter around his wide, muscular frame.
