Page 152 of Possessive Sinner
The realization hits like a punch straight to the gut. Hard. Sudden. Knocking the air out of me. Cursing, I pace once more, trying to shake it off, trying to make it make sense. It doesn't. None of it does.
How the fuck did I miss that?
How did I not see it?
And worse?—
Why did she hide it from me?
Did she think shehad to?
That thought digs in deeper than anything else. I stop pacing. Turn back to him. "Did you make her hide it?"
"What? No. Fuck no. I wanted to scream it from the rooftops, but she wasn't ready." Damiano shakes his head. There is a low curve to his lips. I've never used this word before, and didn't think I ever would, but here it is. He looks… whimsical. I narrow my eyes.
"You were fucking my sister?"
For the first time since I've known him, Damiano doesn't have a smart answer. Doesn't deflect. Doesn't provoke. He just stands there.
"Yeah," just one word. Low. Rough. Unapologetic.
The urge to hit something, somebody, is strong, and there is a perfectly good target right in front of me. My fist connects withhis jaw. Hard enough for him to go down. He lands on his ass, rubbing his chin. "I guess I deserve that one."
He eyes me warily, wondering if I will stop or continue. I hold out my hand and help him up.
"How long?" I grind out.
"We'd been in love for a long time, but neither one of us admitted to it."
I keep staring. He keeps rubbing his chin where my fist hit him. My knuckles sting, and his chin is already swelling.
"Two months." He walks over to the bar, grabs some ice, puts it into a towel, and repeats the process. He hands one to me and presses the other against his chin.
"We were going to tell you. But…" Again, that whimsical look.Fuck me.
If it wasn't for that, I'd beat the shit out of him. But I know two things. One, my sister wouldn't have taken this lightly. She must have been in love. Two, as much as Damiano is an uncontrollable pain in the ass, I can see that he loved her, too.
My jaw tightens. Hard enough it aches. "And you didn't think to mention that? After she went missing? After we found her dead body? After I don't know, fucking everything?"
A helpless look I've never seen on him before ghosts across his face and stops me cold.
"I couldn't, Gabe. I just couldn't."
For a long moment neither of us says anything.
Damiano drags a hand over his face. "It was ours," he says quietly. "Catarina wanted to keep it private until we were ready to tell everyone."
I open my mouth.
He shakes his head. "No. Let me finish."
Something in his voice makes me shut up.
"When she disappeared, it didn't matter anymore. Telling you wouldn't have helped find her. It wouldn't have changedanything." He looks away. "If anything, it would have just distracted you and the others."
The words hit harder than I expect.
"When she went missing, I kept telling myselfshe's coming back. That she's hiding. That somebody grabbed her. That she's hurt." His laugh is short and bitter. "Anything but dead."
