“Wait,” I say. Putting my fingers on her lips. “Don’t. Don’t say another fucking word. I’m not trying to shut you up or say I don’t want your story, but if this is the only day… the day you spent with me… is the only day you weren’t so sad you felt the need to cry, let it stay that way.Please.”
Her eyes are tearing up, and I’m praying, literally fucking praying in my head in aplease, please, pleaseway, that those tears do not fall.
She steals herself with a deep breath. Holds it. Lets it out. “Do you know what I think when you say those words to me?”
“That I’m a selfish dick who only cares about himself?”
A smile breaks through, then she actually laughs. “No. I hear a challenge, Giovanni. And… I don’t know, I’m kind of always up for one. I think that’s part of my problem. I don’t really understand how to quit?” She shrugs her shoulders. “It’s probably a biological flaw that will get me killed one day.”
“Nah,” I say, reaching for her now. I pull her up to my chest, and she lets me. Which is kind of a reward in and of itself. “I think your flaws are beautiful. And no one is going to kill you.Ever.”
“Not with you around?” she snickers.
“Yeah, all right. That came out lame. But it’s also true.”
“Hmm. The world is filled with assholes. That’s my takeaway. And even if my ex never finds me again, the damage is done. Because now I know he exists. There are people in this world who want nothing more than to hurt others. To manipulate them, and control them, and use them. And for some reason, I’m just… the perfect target.”
“You’re talking about me now.”
“No,” she laughs. “I mean, yes. You’re that guy. But…” She sighs. “Never mind.”
Never mind.
There it is again. The second time today.
Never mind.
I turn to look at her, barely visible in the darkness. “Why would someone want to hurt you? He must be truly evil.”
“Says the mobster...”
“I don’t like to hurt people,” I say, the truth slipping out before I can stop it. “It’s just how you survive with the last name Bavga. Pain is something I inflict on enemies.” I pause, choosing my next words carefully. “I’m not trying to be mean, but if that man hurt you, he hated you, Emmaleen.Youwere his enemy.”
“Yeah.” Her voice goes small. “Some men don’t like to be seen. And I have some kind of superpower that sees right into their heads. So I guess it’s my fault.”
Something hot and dangerous ignites in my chest. “It’s not your fault.”
“I know, I know, it’s just?—”
“No.” I cut her off. “You are not responsible for what other people do.”
“That’s rich coming from a man who runs a demerit system for women who wear the wrong shoes.”
“That’s different.”
“Is it?”
I sit up, suddenly needing space from this conversation. “Yes. You signed a contract. You knew the terms. And the punishment was standing, not—” I stop myself.
“Not getting thrown down a flight of stairs?” she finishes for me.
The image hits me like a physical blow. “He did that to you?”
“Among other things.” Her voice is too casual, like she’s discussing the weather. “It’s fine. I’m fine now.”
“It’s not fine.”
“Well, what do you want me to say? That I’m broken? That I jump when doors slam? That I haven’t dated anyone in thirteen months because I’m terrified of being trapped again? That I have nightmares where I can’t breathe because he’s sitting on my chest?” Her voice cracks. “Would that make you feel better about your own damage?”