Page 62 of Making the King

“I’ll consider it,” she whispers, and fuck. That’s all I can ask for at this point.

I want her to stay, but I won’t force her. I won’t take her decisions away from her.

“That’s all I ask.”

Cara

Like most nights, I’m back in the prison, my sister lying on the floor with her head in my lap.

“It’s okay, Cara,” she whispers, with a smile on her lips. “I’ll be free soon.”

“No,” I cry. “Don’t leave me. Quedate por favor.”

Even though I know she can’t, I beg for her to stay with me.

“No one can keep someone like you down, Cara. Give them hell and then get the fuck out of there. Promise me you’ll find a way to be happy.”

The shiv in my hand clanks as it falls onto the floor. It’s covered in Julietta’s blood, and her body is covered in stab wounds.

Her beautiful eyes are bloodshot, and her breathing is garbled wheezing.

“Forgive me,” I beg. “Please say you forgive me.”

She takes a shuddering breath. “T-there’s nothing to f-forgive.”

Fat tears roll down my cheeks, but I swallow down the sob lodged in my throat. I need to be strong for Julietta.

Using her last strength, Julietta places her hand on top of mine. “I-I f-forgive Mateo, t-too,” she stutters as tremors tear through her. “W-we’ll all m-meet again.”

Her hands fall limp, and despite knowing she’s dead, I shake her and cry out her name. “Julietta!”

I’m ripped from the nightmare so suddenly I feel my head spin.

“Shh,” Rocco coos. “You’re safe, hermosa. Please wake up.”

I blink, and it takes me a moment to realize I’m safely in Rocco’s bed, and not sitting on the dirty, tiled floor from my nightmare. As my eyes get used to the darkness in the bedroom, his concerned face comes into view.

“Rocco?” I gasp his name, not quite able to believe he’s here. “You’re here…”

As he shifts, I realize he’s learned his lesson about waking me up from a nightmare. He isn’t anywhere near my legs. Instead of being behind me like he was when we fell asleep, he’s crouching on the floor, next to my side of the bed.

Can’t say I blame him. I’ve kicked him at least four times, and he’s still carrying the marks to prove it.

“Of course I’m here,” he rasps. “I’ll always be here.”

His words cause sobs to tear through me, and I’m unable to stop them. I drag my knees up, curling in on myself as I cry into the pillow.

It’s been almost a week since he told me what he suffered when he lived on the street, and the condemning words broke something inside me. Opened the floodgates, and I don’t know how to stop them. Every night it’s the same nightmare, and every night he wakes me. Then comes the uncontrollable sobbing.

“Fuck. Tell me how I can help you,” Rocco pleads.

It cuts me to hear him sounding so helpless, but I don’t think there’s anything he can do. My tears aren’t just for me and Julietta, they’re for him as well. For what he went through, and the shame I saw in his eyes when he told me his secret.

And… and if I’m being completely honest, they’re also for Mateo. Once upon a time, my twin was my best friend. We shared a womb together, entered this world together, and learned to walk together. When one of us fell down, the other was always there to help. Just because life later dealt us completely opposite hands doesn’t mean he isn’t hurting, too.

In fact, I know he is. The look in his eyes when he pressed all those cigarettes to my skin was half the reason I stopped fighting and screaming. It broke something in him, and I felt the snap reverberating in my soul.

“Say something,” Rocco urges, gently moving strands of hair from my face. “Anything. Scream at me. Or better yet, take your pain out on me. I can take it, Cara. But I can’t stand seeing you like this.” His voice takes on a gravelly quality, and I know he’s feeling my hurt like it’s his own.

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