Page 55 of Twisted Minds of Sin

“That's something pressing to do first,” I drag my blunt, hold it in, then puff.

When I got the text from Romano some days back inviting me to his wedding, I wanted to share the news with Rosaline, but I had just hurt her and wanted both of us to be better before sharing the news with her.

I was waiting for the perfect time and unfortunately, it never came. Fuck who coined that fucking phrase. I wanted to go to herlast night after her outburst to tell her about the wedding, but Orazio stopped me. And I get his point. She is not exactly in a state of mind to deal with me or the wedding.

“That slimy sneaky bastard,” he exhales sharply, now processing everything I told him about Claudio last night, “How could he?”

He squints at me, as if trying to figure something out, leans forward, opens his mouth to say something, clamps it, and leans back to continue smoking.

We have been like this all night after he read the letter from my father. Smoking and just being quiet. As much as Orazio never liked Claudio and always thought something was unsettling about the man, he never hinted at or even conceived the thought that Claudio might have been responsible for my father’s death. Finding out Claudio killed my father is doing a number on him.

Not only does he feel sad but he feels angry at himself for not seeing this one coming and I'm not exactly the right person to console someone. So, I offered him the best consolation I know and he has been with me in my room all night, smoking the anger and sadness away.

Misery does love company.

“He is not done, Orazio, I can feel it.”

“But I think you gave yourself away with the cutouts,” he picks up his glass of whiskey and swigs.

“I doubt I did. I mean even you, with your perception, thought I was only being a thorn in the flesh and using that as an outlet for the pain of him marrying my mother,” it's my turn to swig my whiskey.

“Argh,” he scratches his head with the hand holding his blunt. “This is fucked up,” he exhales again, “I don't put it past any man to kill but to marry the wife of the brother you killed is another level of fucked in the head,” he chuckles, “The craziness runs in the family.”

“Shut the fuck up,” I glare at him and he laughs softly.

“But we will get him, and we will get him good,” he smiles at me, “Real good, and hey, sugar plum…”

“Orazio please, for once just talk like a sane human,” I grunt.

“Are you sane?”

“Not thanks to you.”

“Nah, you did that on your own.”

“I think you've overstayed your welcome,” I clip, but I know the fucker won't be moving an inch.

“You need me, you always do, and if you had told me sooner, I would have been able to save us from some of the mess you'vemade,” he leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, “You see why we need that couples therapy? It will help us not keep secrets from each other, Sunshine.”

I nod at myself, accepting the truth that I am not sane. Because if like minds attract, this rogue sitting across from me proves that I am a rogue myself. Only fucking Orazio always finds a way to keep the mood light. But who cares about keeping the fucking mood light in a situation like this?

“You are a miserable fellow,” I swig the last of my whiskey and drop the glass on my nightstand.

“And here I was wondering why we are inseparable,” he opens his arms wide and shrugs.

I stand from my bed, “Yeah, tell me about it,” I take one last drag from my blunt, press the butt against the ashtray on my mattress to put it out, and drop it in it.

“Are you going to her?” Orazio lifts both eyebrows.

“Yeah, but only to tell her about the wedding,” I dip my hands in the pockets of my sweatpants, “She needs to hear the good news, I doubt knows,” I explain myself further. I know why he is watching me around her, I have been watching myself for the past week, but telling her one piece of good news won't undo everything I've worked my mind to. Or will it?

“I shouldn't be saying this to a grown-ass man but keep the door open,” he chuckles.

God, I hate him.

I click my tongue and glare at him for a quick second, wishing I could burn the fucker to the sofa, even though he is right and I will be doing as he has said. Hell, I have no plans of going inside her room. We have a wedding to attend, if she wants, and I don't want to make things harder for her after the death of her father.

“I've got this,” I hope.

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