Page 107 of Secrets of the Brother
I screamed and ran.
The terrifying, pounding piano cadence of “Precious Things” drummed in my head as I pitched headlong through the forest.
Running in a jagged line between the trees, I headed toward a massive, circular stone structure. It was covered in burnt umber and amber ivy leaves with clusters of dark berries clinging to the ancient ruins like a cloak.
Enzo pursued me, loudly crashing through the underbrush.
My smaller frame gave me the advantage as I easily ducked under bare, low-hanging branches without having to slow my pace.
The heel on one of my shoes snapped just as I reached the tower. Trying to catch my breath, I braced my palm against the worn brown limestone bricks and bent to examine the damage.
And Enzo caught up with me.
He wrapped his hand around my shoulder and pressed my back against the tower wall.
He placed his forearm over my head and leaned over me.
Without preamble he ground out, “We don’t know the names of everyone involved so everyone is a suspect, including that inspector. Whether you like it or not, I am not able to tell you the full truth about what is happening. Milana only knows a portion of the truth and it made her a target. She came very close to dying. Your sister knew the full truth and she was brutally killed. So if you think, for one second, that I am going to take that risk with your life, a life that is more precious to me than my own, you are out of your goddamn mind. And I don’t give a fuck how pissed you get about it.”
This was it.
This was my lifeline.
My out.
If I didn’t take it, I would truly be lost.
I placed my hands on his chest, tucking my fingers inside his suit jacket to feel the warmth of his skin through his linen shirt. It was amazing how he managed to radiate so much heat despite the chill in the air, even without a coat on. Everything about him was just so big and powerful.
For a moment, I almost lost my nerve, but I knew I needed to be strong.
I survived losing him once.
I would survive it again. Maybe.
Staring at the knot in his tie, I blurted out, “Send me back to New York.”
“What?”
Still refusing to meet his gaze, I rushed on, tripping over my words. “You could lend me the money. You have the connections to get me a new passport. Send me back to New York. We don’t need to marry for me to be protected. I could just leave the country like I did before. I could go back to school, back to my life there.”
My new anthem song, Tori Amos’ "Girl."
It wasn’t a particularly happy life without him, but it was a life… and it was simple and uncomplicated and my own. And maybe one day I would meet someone who would help me forget all about Enzo Cavalieri.
People moved on from their first loves all the time. They married and had children and lived fulfilling lives with kind, decent partners. They chose stability over drama and chaos and heartache.
He cupped the back of my head and pressed the side of my face to his heart.
I held my breath so long I thought my lungs would burst.
Over the steady thump of his heart, I heard the rustling of small creatures in the dried leaves as they scurried about the forest floor around us and the forlorn sound of the wind as it whistled through the gaps in the ancient bricks of the tower.
It was hard not to feel the spiritual presence of generations of violent power struggles which took place on this very blood-soaked spot. I guessed it was fitting that I was fighting for my very survival here as well.
His chest expanded as he took a deep breath before responding. “I’m sorry,tesoro mio. The answer is no. We will get married as planned.”
My knees buckled. I would have collapsed to the ground if he had not pressed his body against mine, pinning me to the tower wall.
