Page 29 of She's My Queen

“I don’t believe you. Get in here.” He twists the handle.

Be alone with Corrado? I don’t think so. “I’d rather not.”

“I’m not asking. Get in.”

I remain in the living room.

Corrado pushes the bedroom door open wider and walks into the room. I can tell by his expression he’s truly at the end of his rope and that I don’t have a choice. Severio is undergoing minor surgery. Regardless of what he said, he can’t guarantee what Corrado will do.

If I stay here, he’ll start shooting. If I walk into the bedroom, he might kill me quietly. Inside, alone with him, at least I’ll spare the other three people.

I move toward him, and when my knees start wobbling, Corrado catches me under my armpit and leads me the rest of the way. I sit at the foot of the bed, and he closes the door. Somehow, I remember I’m filthy, and I get off the bed so as not to dirty the sheets. My knees give out, and I drop to the floor, a mess of tears again.

This time, I bend over and hold my belly as I cry.

Corrado neither comforts me nor confronts me. He stands there watching me like I’m a piece of dirt on his shoe. I allow myself to cry as long as I need to, then calm down by rocking and finally sit up with my back against the bed.

Corrado crouches in front of me and scrubs his jaw. “If you’re just a girl caught at the wrong time in the wrong place, then I promise I’ll make this right. I’ll find whoever did this, and I’ll hang pieces of their bodies on my Christmas tree.”

“Oh God.”

“Mmhm. But if I find out you’re lying, you’re a good actress, and I’ll shove an Oscar down your throat. Now, tell me what happened. Word for word. Leave nothing out.”

I wipe my face, and Corrado leaves to wet a towel and bring it to me.

I use it on my face and the front of my neck, then I wipe my bloody hands, which can’t seem to stop shaking. He sits cross-legged in front of me and gives me all his attention. It’s unnerving, to say the least.

I narrate the events of the morning after we crossed paths in the hallway. As far as his emotions go, Corrado’s face gives nothing away, not even when I tell him about the poison. He doesn’t interrupt me either until I finish recalling the entire morning.

“He got his wounds protecting you.”

I nod.

“Could you have been the target?”

My breath hitches, and Corrado presses two fingers over my pulse. “Breathe.” He breathes with me, almost as if showing me how. As soon as I calm down, he removes his hand. I notice that his eyes stray toward the gauze covering my tattoos and not my breasts. I appreciate that more than anyone could understand.

“You said you slapped my brother.”

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I was angry with him. I was concerned about his life, and he found it funny.”

“I’m not mad about that. I’m surprised, is all. Tell me, when he fucked you last night, did he breed you?”

I gape.

Corrado expects an answer. “Did he?”

“I wouldn’t call it breeding.”

“I don’t give a shit what you’d call it. Did he or didn’t he use a condom?”

“We didn’t have sex.”

Corrado seems confused. “I saw you in my brother’s bed wearing his T-shirt.”

“We didn’t have sex,” I repeat.

Corrado scrubs his jaw. Cracks his neck. “Whatever. I don’t know what kind of kinks Severio’s trying out with you, and I can’t say I’m interested…unless—” He side-eyes me, then reaches for my front.

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