Page 77 of Captive Bride: Armani
Outside the door, Candi struggles in my grip. Her efforts are weak, so I let her go once I’m confident she won’t collapse. Her chest heaves as she grapples with her posttraumatic response.
“We killed a man. We just killed a man.”
“Ikilled a man. Not you.”
“He’s dead!”
Her voice rises to a hysterical level. I let it be. No one will hear her down here. Enough people have screamed themselves hoarse in the Deep Cellar with no one above the wiser. That’s why this place is so far underground, and so remote on the property.
“He’s dead, yes. It’s done. Candi, I need you to take a deep breath.”
Studying her face, I let out a long breath. She looks dazed still, panicked, her pupils blown wide. I’ve never seen this side of her, nor had I expected to. She’s always been cool and collected with a bit of a sassy edge. Plus, she’s a mole for the Brunos, so as far as I’m concerned, she’s got the capacity to handle anything that comes with the job. I brought her to the Deep Cellar so she could see firsthand what this life is all about. To know what she’s in for.
I didn’t expect her to fall apart afterward.
She tries to obey me, but the inhale sticks in her throat and makes a whistling sound.
“I can’t breathe…oh, God.”
Cupping her face in my hands, I look into her eyes and breathe in and out slowly, coaching her. It takes a few minutes, but she seems to recover just a little bit.
“Do you think it could be true, what he said about your family?” she whispers. “That what you thought about their deaths is a lie?”
The question dumps fuel on the fire inside me. “I don’t believe a word that came out of his mouth. And neither should you. They’re dead and gone and nothing is going to change that.”
“I understand, but…what if there’s more to it?” she asks.
“That’s enough!”
No, there’s not more to it. There can’t be. My father said…they all said…and the condition of my mother’s body, it was mangled almost beyond the point of recognition. And Lili…dammit, no. I can’t do this right now.
Candi’s expression has gone blank again. I’ve triggered her by losing my temper, for the second time. That’s it. I’m getting her upstairs.
Scooping her up in my arms, I carry her up the two flights of stairs and out the door of the building. Her arms hang loosely around my neck, her palms cold. She’s silent, but I have no doubt that her mind is still whirling.
The whole drive back to the house, so is mine.
Me not believing the tattooed man isn’t exactly true. I’d been too rash back there. I should have let him tell me what he knew—what hethoughthe knew—about my family before I’d killed him. Not that I would have just taken it at face value. But still. His taunting opened a wound deep inside me, and now it’s filled with a churning anger that I need to get under control. Logically, I know that he was just using my mother and sister as a last-ditch effort to stay alive, but regardless—it’s eating me whole from the inside.
Because his words reawakened something inside me that I buried years ago. My entire life, I’ve wondered if my father’s explanation of what happened to Mom and Lili was the whole truth. Some part of me always felt like there was more to the story my brothers and I had been given. My father was an expert liar…but younger me knew better than to question him. Except he’s gone now, and I still have questions. I packed them away, yet here they are, fluttering around in my brain like frantic moths over a lightbulb.
I’ve never been good at handling my emotions around my mother and sister’s death, and fuck, it’s going to be worse this time around.
I’m just unbuckling Candi from the passenger seat of my SUV when she seems to realize we’re back at the house and snaps out of her fugue state.
“Armani?”
Candi’s soft voice is filled with concern. Shifting my gaze to meet hers, I work my jaw and struggle to get myself under control.
“Hey. It’s going to be okay,” she says.
A humorless laugh rushes out of me. It’snotgoing to be okay. It never was, and it won’t ever be until I eradicate Bruno and his forces.
“He hurt my family. He had to die,” I say.
Why am I telling her this? As if I need her permission or acceptance. But I can’t stop.
“He had his hands in so many things. My father’s murder. Livvie. And then Marco’s accident.” I swallow what feels like a jagged rock down my throat. “He knew about my mother.”
