Page 9 of The Mafioso's Virgin
"I'm sorry," I choke out.
"Don't." His voice is almost angry, but not at me. "Don't apologize. Not for this. Not for anything."
I nod against his chest, my fingers clutching his shirt like a lifeline.
"Dr. Rossi says you can go home tomorrow," he says after a long silence.
My entire body goes rigid.
Home.
No. No, no, no.
"Please." The word tears out of me before I can stop it. "Please don't send me back."
He goes very still. "Back where?"
"Home. To my father. Please." I'm begging now, and I don't care. "I can't—he'll?—"
"Your father," he repeats slowly, and there's something lethal threading through his voice now. “Why don’t you want to see your father?”
I don't answer at first. I can't. My voice is wrecked.
And then, because it's dark, and because his heartbeat is under my ear, and because he smells of warm spices and clean skin, the truth leaks out of me. "I wasn't kidnapped." I inhale slowly, then exhale. “I was sold. My father sold me."
I feel his muscles tense.
“The healed fractures the doctor found. The old ones. Your father did that.”
It sounds like a statement, but I know it’s a question.
I’m quiet for a long time.
He waits. Patiently. Like he'll wait all night if he has to.
I open my mouth to deny it. To tell him I’m clumsy and fall a lot, but the words don’t come.
Instead, I nod.
The sound he makes isn't a word. It's more like a growl, low and dangerous.
His chest rises and falls beneath my cheek, and I feel the tension coil through him like a spring wound too tight.
"Fuck him." The words are so vicious I flinch, but then his hand is stroking my hair gently again. "No one is going to hurt you again," he tells me. "Not him. Not anyone. I won't allow it. Do you understand?"
I want to believe him. I want it so badly it hurts.
But I've been lied to before. So many times.
"You don't have to believe me yet," he says, like he can read my mind. "But you will. I'll prove it."
I don't know what to say, so I just nod again.
He shifts slightly, pulling me closer, and I let my guard down, sinking into him.
For the first time in as long as I can remember, I let myself truly relax.
Just for tonight. Just for now.
