Page 47 of Twisted Embrace

“Why don’t you care about her? Why did you torture her as a child?” Joy’s words weren’t said in her usual act of our angry banter but asked out of curiosity that had troubled her for some time.

I pinched her chin, lifting her head to force her look at me. “Because I didn’t know any better.”

For anyone who had no understanding of the nightmare called my childhood, they’d think my answer was glib. She accepted the answer easily.

“But I do care about Lucia,” I added.

“Then show it to her. She needs support right now, not the notorious leader of a crime syndicate.”

“The doctor is concerned about the baby’s irregular heartbeat.”

The sadness appearing in her eyes was instant. “This can’t happen. This just can’t. I prayed for God to take me. I just…”

“The sooner you realize there is no God, Joy, the better off you’ll be.”

“Damn you. You took away everything, yet you want more including what little faith I have? That’s not something you can take away unless you carve it out of my heart.”

As soon as she tried to sidestep me, I dragged her back.

“I’ve accepted your difficulty in understanding the life you’ve now accepted as your own. However, your disrespect will not be tolerated. It’s apparent that Lucia provided you with the truth about the kind of man I became. I suggest you remember that.”

“No matter how much you try and terrify me, it’s not going to happen. But you’re right, Enzo. I have no clue about you or your life other than what Lucia glossed over. She actually tried to make me believe that murdering people was simply another aspect of doing business. Maybe that’s true in your jaded, twisted world, but not in mine. In mine people care about others, especially family. You don’t seem to realize that in a single day, twenty-four little hours, everything I believed in was ripped away from me. That gives me every right to question what the hell is wrong with you. My soon to be husband.”

She jerked the clothes from the floor, cradling them against her chest before ripping open the curtain. “Don’t worry, Master. I’ll be right outside like a good little girl until you’ve changed. Oh, wait. That would take magic and unfortunately, I didn’t bring my crystal ball with me.”

I allowed her to walk away, resigned to the fact she could never love me. The thought was ridiculous and one I couldn’t entertain. What I did know is that the longer she was with me, the more of her I would eventually ruin.

The sadist in me craved nothing more.

But the man who felt like he’d been awakened from a long nightmare was no longer certain that’s what he wanted.

CHAPTER 15

Enzo

You should have known the price of evil.

The lyric from a song by Avenged Sevenfold I’d listened to countless times drifted into my mind as I headed to the maintenance area of the hospital where Anthony had taken Wally. This was a fucking nightmare.

Joy had been left with Lucia for a second time, guards positioned to ensure nothing would happen. As soon as the elevator doors opened, I found D’Artagnan waiting for me. His face was haggard and gaunt. If this was what despair looked like, I wanted no part of it.

I took long strides toward him, stopping a couple of feet away. “Any change?”

“Some. Lucia’s vitals are much better. They’re giving her medication, which the fetus will benefit from as well. Or so they hope. She’s mostly conscious on her insistence but in a lot of pain since they can’t do anything given her pregnancy. God, she’s so strong but she’s terrified and I don’t know what to tell her.”

His answer was said with no emotion, but to hear him talk about the child growing inside meant he’d accepted the possibility of the baby’s decline into death. I took a deep breath, still cautious about his reaction to my investigation of Wally. He’d insisted on being with me, which I’d tried to talk him out of.

“My sister would want the truth.”

“Yeah?” he said, his tone incredulous. “What do you want me to say, Enzo? What brilliant thoughts are running through your damaged brain?”

I immediately snarled, my body tensing.

He threw his head back. “That was fucking crass of me.”

“Yes, it was. Il primo amore non si scorda mai.”

D’Artagnan laughed bitterly. “The first love is never forgotten,” he translated. “No, it is not but it does need avenging.”

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