Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70303 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70303 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
The Barsettis stared back at me, all tense and touched by what I said.
“You’re welcome to join us whenever you want,” Pearl said. “Our home is always open to you.”
It was a relief to feel welcome for once, to feel the universal acceptance of the Barsetti family. They didn’t just welcome me because they had to, but because they genuinely cared for me now. I felt like a friend—for the first time. Whenever I had been at the winery or anywhere on their property, they’d constantly watched me like a hawk. I’d said a few words to Carmen, and Cane had acted like I’d tried to rape her. Now I’d finally earned the acceptance of them all…which was all I ever wanted. “Thank you, Mrs. Barsetti.”
Guns and ammunition were still on the coffee table where I’d left them. A half-drunk glass of scotch was there too, and the condensation from the liquid had made a ring on the wood because it’d been sitting there for so long. The lights were still on because I’d abandoned everything before I left to save Conway.
Vanessa stepped inside and surveyed the room, searching for the changes that had occurred over the past three months. But she wouldn’t find any because nothing was different. I hadn’t changed anything, not even the room where she kept her art supplies. I’d been too pathetic to throw anything away.
I came up behind her, staring at her small frame in my living room. She was in a blue summer dress, her olive skin looking delicious in the color. Her arms were by her sides, and her breathing was quiet.
I approached her slowly, my hands slightly shaking from the moment I was about to embrace. For the last three months, I had sat in this apartment alone, drinking scotch and trying to forget about the woman who made me so happy. I thought I would never see her again, let alone in this very apartment.
Now she stood in front of me, beautiful as ever.
I stopped when my chest hit her back. My hands gripped the backs of her arms, feeling the pulse under the callused pads of my fingertips. My hands constricted around her, holding her tighter than I meant to. My desperation to squeeze her came from longing, not from rage. I needed to feel her intimately to understand she was really there.
She was there with me.
I rested my forehead against the back of her head, my face surrounded by her dark hair. I recognized her scent, the same smell that smothered my sheets. It reminded me of winter, of the blissful months I’d kept her warm in that small apartment. It reminded me of the moments I tried to fight, the moments when I fell so hard for her no matter how much I worked to resist it. This woman changed me, turned me from a monster into a heartfelt man. I still had rage, but that rage now only flamed when I thought she was in danger…or when someone she loved was in danger.
She was the first person to bring me to tears, the first woman to break my heart. I remembered the sensation because it felt so strange. Every breath burned my lungs. My throat ached because it seemed like it was on fire. My eyes were coated with a sheen of moisture. It happened so fast and with such profoundness, I wasn’t even sure what was happening.
Only Vanessa could bring me to my knees.
Only Vanessa could make me feel loved.
Only Vanessa could make love as hard as I fought.
Only Vanessa could bring tears to my eyes.
The sound of my own breaths was audible to my ears because they slowly increased, growing deeper and harder. I could hear hers too, listen to them rise as the intensity between us turned into a raging storm. My hands never left her arms, keeping her against me. I let my chest expand into her back, felt her push back against me as her lungs filled with air.
Her breaths reached a breaking point, and that’s when she started to cry.
It was quiet, barely audible. It was only apparent because of the way her breathing turned irregular. Soon, her whimpers filled my quiet apartment. She’d never been the kind of woman to cry, not even under the threat of death, but she was coming apart—piece by piece.
My hands released her arms, and I secured my arms over her chest, my thick limbs covering her completely with the girth of two tree trunks. I pulled her against me, trapping her in place so she couldn’t run.
She used to be my prisoner. And now, she was my prisoner again.
This time, she would never get away.
My hold on her was too tight. Even if she wanted to leave, I would never allow it.
She gripped my arms with her hands. “I missed you so much…” She turned her head slightly, showing me her cheek. Tears ran from her eyes all the way to her chin. Her perfect makeup started to run. “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t eat…I couldn’t do anything. I didn’t care about anything. Life was just…a meaningless blur. I tried to argue with my father to get him to change his mind. When it was no use, it was even more painful.”