AllFreeNovel
Share Us
June bristles. “He was a flawed person. He had secrets, I knew that. But mafia stuff? Murder? That wasn’t Adrian.”
In many ways, she’s not wrong.
The problem is, she’s not right, either.
“Your cut has almost healed,” I observe, my eyes flickering over her wounded cheek.
She tenses self-consciously. “You won’t make me hate him, you know. I know he wasn’t perfect, but no one is. He’s dead now and for better or worse, he’s also the father of my child. You won’t make me hate him. You can’t.”
Again, it doesn’t feel like she’s talking to me at all. “I’m not trying to make you hate him, June.”
“Then what are you trying to do?”
“Prepare you.”
She doesn’t look at all comforted by my words. The goosebumps rippling over her bare arms are proof enough of that. Her eyes wander from corner to corner, dancing away from me and back again. She’s searching for comfort, for reassurance that the world as she once knew it hasn’t vanished completely.
But all she finds is an unfamiliar room—and me.
“Do you hate him?” she asks suddenly, as though the thought is just occurring to her.
I’m slow to answer. “No.”
“You said you killed his father.”
I simply nod.
“Adrian never spoke about his father with me,” she continues. “He never spoke about any of this family with me. I’m guessing you know something about that. I’m guessing you won’t tell me, either.”
“Correct. On both counts.”
She looks too exhausted to be angry. Her hazel eyes are bright with sadness, with loss. “You know a lot more about me than you should, don’t you?”
I don’t bother lying. “I had to make sure you were okay.”
She stands tentatively, her legs still regaining their strength, and takes a cautious step toward me. Even from across the room, I can smell her—caramel and lavender.
“I don’t understand you,” she murmurs, searching my face for answers. “For someone who killed his dad and made an enemy out of him, you still seem to have an awful lot of compassion for him.”
I shrug. Her eyes flicker with disillusionment. She’s still trying to cling to her good memories of Adrian. I’m not sure why, but that irritates me.
I shouldn’t let it. She should be allowed to remember what was good about Adrian. I shouldn’t begrudge her that. Idon’tbegrudge her that.
I focus on her eyes. From afar, it’s unbroken green. But up close, they contain every color in autumn.
“Did he love me?” she asks, almost hopefully.
It’s ironic that she assumes that Adrian had confided in me in that regard. I know so much about her, about them. Why shouldn’t I know this, too?
Her lips are pursed up, like she’s on the verge of prayer. The hope and need in her eyes fill me with a bitterness I can’t explain. And before I know it, what’s left of my humanity is washed out by ill intentions.
“You were a convenience for him then,” I say coldly. “Just as you’re an inconvenience for me now.”
I stand there long enough to watch her face fall and her dappled eyes pool with tears. Before the first one can fall, I turn for the door. I’m wondering as I go why hurting her hasn’t given me the satisfaction I’m after.
Maybe distance will.
10
