Page 29 of Leave Me (Touch of Death 2)
I step forward and snatch it from the surface before it can hit the floor. It has Nero’s name on it, and the envelope is already open.
“Read it,” she demands.
I slide the heavy card from inside the envelope. As soon as my eyes land on the words, a foreign sensation settles behind my ribs, an ache that I wasn’t ready for.
You are invited to the wedding of Adelina Ricci and Enrique Bianchi.
She’s doing it. She’s going to marry him. My heart lurches in a way that steals the breath from my lungs. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to perform the basic act of breathing in and out. I count to ten, but it does nothing because all I see is Adelina…with him. I remember her face in my dream, so broken, so sad. I imagine that’s what she’ll look like as she walks down the aisle in virginal white. Or maybe she’ll smile, knowing that one day she gets to kill Enrique Bianchi. One day…after he’s defiled her. That rage that is my ever-present companion breaks free, turning my vision red. I can’t control or leash whatever this is. My emotions pour from me in a torrent, swirling in a violent vortex of hate, regret, and pure, unbridled anger.
Tossing the invite to the ground, I turn, clenching and releasing my fists in a bid to gain control. I can’t. Before my mind has fully registered the movement, my hand drives into the wall, over and over until my knuckles crunch and bleed and the plaster cracks. My heart pounds against my ribs so hard I’m practically choking on it as the drumbeat ricochets through my entire body. Bracing my hand against the wall, I drop my head forward and squeeze my eyes closed. Pain slowly filters back in, and I grit my teeth and clutch my stomach. That lacerated liver is making itself known.
“Still think there’s nothing to talk about?” Una asks quietly.
Trapped in my own head, I’d almost forgotten Una was standing there. Watching me. I say nothing, both ashamed and alarmed by my irrational loss of control. I slowly turn to face her.
She tilts her head to the side, assessing, probing. “You love her.”
I snort because the notion is entirely ridiculous. I don’t even know what love is. And I certainly don’t know what this is. “No. I respect her.”
Her gaze drifts past me to the cracked plaster. “The two aren’t mutually exclusive.” She folds her arms over her chest. “I’ve never seen you like this, and I’m worried.”
That’s because I’ve never felt like this. I’ve never lost control in my life, even in the very worst situations. Everything about Adelina drives me to volatile actions. I wish I could just forget she ever existed. Cut her out like diseased flesh before she taints everything she touches. But I think it’s too late for that. I’m already infected; I can feel it spreading like a virus.
Una’s hard features crack, and sympathy that I loathe blankets her face, and I drop my gaze to the floor, unable to meet her pity-filled eyes. “I understand more than most. I fell in love on a job.”
“I don’t love her.”
“Sasha.” She pauses, and my eyes slowly meet hers. Una waits until I’m looking at her before she speaks. “I know you. Better than anyone. If it’s not love, then what would you call this?”
My chest constricts until I feel like I’m being squeezed. Tighter, tighter. “I hate that she’s gone to him.” I close my eyes again, willing everything to just…quiet.
“You did everything you could, Sasha. Adelina is just…doing what she thinks she needs to right now.”
I wish I could just accept that. I know I need to. “I’m angry all the time,” I confess.
“Because it hurts.”
I meet her eyes. “We’re Elite. We don’t hurt.”
Her expression softens further. “We aren’t Elite, anymore. Whether you like it or not, this is affecting you. You walked into that warehouse with no regard for strategy. You just wanted to end them.” She wasn’t wrong. “You’re dangerous, and until you have a handle on this, you’re off mission.”
“No. I need this,” I say through gritted teeth. Work is the only thing that can keep me focused right now.
“You need to handle whatever you’re going through. I need to trust you to have my back.” Those words are salt in an already raw wound.
“I always have your back!”
“Right now, you don’t. Your head is too pre-occupied with Adelina.”
“I can handle it!” I snap.
There’s that flash of pity again. “You aren’t handling it, Sasha.”
I drop my head forward, feeling the weight of everything crushing me. “How? How am I supposed to handle this? I don’t even know what this is, Una.”
“The same way everyone does when they lose someone. Time.”
“I didn’t lose her.” I never had her.
She was a job, and she ran away. Right into the arms of our enemy.
