“I don’t want a lecture,” I started.
“Well, maybe you need one! I can’t believe you didn’t tell her about her mother.”
“When should I have done that?” I said, coming to stop in my wild pace of the library. I’d been walking back and forth in the same spot for an hour, waiting for Blackwood’s address. “Maybe when we were trying to escape a fire, or when she was in solitary, or maybe when I was busy killing the men who had hurt her, trying to keep her safe?”
Giada was quiet for a moment. I stood in front of the fire and let the heat scorch through my pant leg and blaze along my calf. The pain was good; it kept me from losing control completely.
“I’m not saying it was easy... but the right thing is seldom easy. It was never going to be an easy thing to tell her, and you?—”
“Were a coward. I’m aware. I don’t need you to tell me.” I sank down into the leather chair beside the fire.
“It’s not cowardly to be afraid of losing the person you care about?—”
“Theonlyperson I care about. She’s the only person I’ve ever cared about in twenty years. Afraid doesn’t cover it.”
Silence fell between us again.
“So, you could have messaged me the address, but you wanted to call to tell me I told you so?” I massaged the bridge of my nose. I had a pounding headache. I’d had it since that phone call when I was at the police station. The hurt in Katarina’s voice had dug tiny daggers through my skull, right into my brain.
I’d have fucking nightmares about that phone call; it would haunt me.
“No. Believe it or not, I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine,” I bit out.
“Yeah, you sound great. What are you going to do?”
“Kill Blackwood.”
“I mean after that?”
Darkness filled my chest, possessiveness sinking its teeth into my heart at the thought of a future without Katarina. The sheer strength of it stole my voice from me.
“You know that following her to Florence and watching her until she decides to give you another chance won’t go down well, right?”
Giada’s words had me shaking my head.
“And neither will instigating encounters where she’s forced to rely on you.”
Is she a fucking mind reader?
“Please. Even in your imagination, you’re so PG,” I snapped. “How about sneaking into her bed at night when she’s asleep and fucking her and filling her up nightly until she’s pregnant, and then swoop in and take care of her when she finally needs me again?”
Giada drew in a short breath. I’d finally shocked her.
“Or even more obvious: Take her and keep her somewhere quiet and isolated until she’s so desperate to talk to someone that she talks to me. Until she’s so desperate to breathe fresh air and feel the sun on her skin, she takes my hand.”
My words were low, a bleak and broken confession of a damaged mind.
“You wouldn’t do either of those,” Giada uttered after a moment. “You wouldn’t.”
I swallowed the hot knot of fear and anger in my throat, though it returned immediately. It never left me lately.
“You don’t know me, Giada O’Connor, not really. You have no idea what I would do for the woman I love.”
“For, or to? You’re not a monster, Massimo, not unless you let yourself be.”
“Some of us have never had a choice in what we are. It’s written in our bones. I hadn’t expected naivety from Elio’s sister. Interesting.”