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“That’s not it. Not really.”
He couldn’t read her face from their positions, but he trusted her not to lie to him. That realization brought a tightening along his spine that he didn’t know what the hell to do with as he waited.
“Beatrice killed her,” Vespa said, her tone hard.
It was the second time Vespa had referred to a ‘her,’ but Antonio didn’t understand who she was talking about any better. She’d shoved him out when he asked the first time, so he hesitated to voice the question.
“I wanted to kill her. Fucking bitch deserved it, and I can’t be mad at Beatrice for doing it, but I am anyway!” Her chest was rising in agitation. “I’m not mad that she’s dead, but that I didn’t get to do it. Montrell never would have. He loved her and kept forgiving her. Not me. His bitch of a mother tortured me for fucking years!”
At the term ‘mother,’ Antonio’s vision glittered at the edges.
“I should have been the one to kill her! Not that I blame Beatrice for doing it. Maeve fucked up her arm bad. Broke it just like she did to both of us before. That Bea shot the bitch was just desserts, but that’s part of it too. Montrell’s mother didn’t deserve to go quick. She deserved to be strapped to my table as I carved her up and ripped her lying tongue out!”
Vespa’s chest heaved.
Antonio brushed his hand through her hair. “What did she do to you, Vespa?”
Her head shifted along his chest in a shake. “That’s not it, not exactly. Oh, she hurt me, but she didn’t enjoy hurting me, not like she enjoyed hurting Montrell. Because he loved her. She lived for making his face twist in this certain way as he tried to resolve his love for the person who was hurting him. I was delighted whenever I turned her attention to me instead because I knew she wanted to hit him so much more. She hated me, hated that I grinned through it and tried to hit back. Montrell pulled me off of her more than once.”
“You weren’t angry with him?” Antonio asked, not understanding her at all.
“Montrell? Of course not.” She snorted. “That was just his way. He really did love her. His loyalty knows no bounds, even when it’s toxic for him.” Her body grew stiff. “I mean, look how long he’s stuck with me.”
“You’re loyal as well.”
“Yeah, but sometimes I go off half-cocked. I’m pretty sure I make things worse for him despite having good intentions.” She sighed, her shoulders relaxing. “It’s harder on Montrell when the people he cares about are hurt, but I couldn’t let him take all of it on himself. It’s harder on me when he’s the one hurt.”
“Is that why you’re bruised to hell today and he’s relatively unscathed?” Antonio asked.
“Hell no. Montrell was still drugged when I kicked up a fuss. There was no helping it.” More of her tension slipped away. “I appreciate you sending Luka. I might have died had he not shown up.”
Antonio’s hand fell from her hair so that its tightening motion wouldn’t pull at her scalp. Actions weaved in such delicate ways. A slight shift, and he wouldn’t be here with Vespa in this moment.
“Everything happens the way it’s going to, I guess.” It was like she repeated his thoughts in her exhaustion-slurred voice. “I just really wish I’d watched Montrell’s mother’s life fade beneath my own hands.”
Memories rose to scrape at him. “I wanted the same once. Not for me, but because my mother wanted to hurt someone I put before myself.” He trailed the back of a finger along the skin of her good arm. “Would it help to know that it wasn’t satisfying? Being the one?”
Silence stretched between them. When he heard her deepening breaths, he realized she’d fallen asleep.
That was for the best. Her body needed it. He held her a little tighter to keep her in place, closing his eyes and listening to the soft thump of her heartbeat proving she was still alive, unlike the women who had hurt them.
Chapter 18
Vespa’s head felt swollen. A soft, murmuring voice weaved in among the throbbing.
“I’m telling you now,” Antonio’s voice paused. “Soon. Have Nera save me something.”
Her eyes opened. His hand lowered to the bed beside them with his phone still in it.
“Giovanni?” she asked, regretting the added yawn when her lip tore again.
“Yeah.” Antonio released his phone to press his thumb to the edge of her mouth. “How do you feel?”
“Like shit.” Talking moved her lips against his finger. “Scuzzy shit.” The thought of showering made her aware of every ache in her body, but it had to be done.
“Let me help you before I head home,” Antonio offered.
She’d figured he was heading back this morning, and the sudden urge to ask him not to was stupid. She stretched her bare legs along his pants, wondering if she should be embarrassed about being completely naked while he still wore his snazzy suit. Even the stretching hurt. “If you’re up for helping, I won’t refuse.”
