Page 83 of Shield

Dr. Rossi pats my shoulder. I know he can see the shock and terror on my face, but I couldn’t change that if I wanted to.

“I—I don’t understand. I took precautions.”

“When did you have it done?”

“I don’t know. Four years ago? Five?” Was it six? I can’t think clearly right now.

He shakes his head. “Depending on the type and brand, it may not be efficacious for that long. Implants aren’t 100% foolproof.”

When I don’t say anything, his demeanor softens. “It’s going to be okay, Ms. Bellamorte. If you need anything, please let me know.”

I nod, relieved that at least the tears don’t well up until he’s out the door. Matti is right next door, finally awake, and I don’t want him to worry.

And I don’t want him to ask what’s wrong.

Matti knocks on the door that Dr. Rossi left ajar and steps into the room.

Fuck.

When he sees me wipe my eyes, he closes the distance between us in two strides. Tipping my chin up, he looks down at me, concerned. “Tell me.”

“It’s fine,” I sniff. “I’m fine. Dr. Rossi looked me over when we got back and everything is fine. I just—I’m tired. That’s all.”

I pull in a shaky breath and force a smile onto my face.

“I don’t like it when you lie to me, Siena.” His voice drops, his face darkening as he steps back.

“No,” I say, reaching out to grab his forearm. “Please. You just woke up and I just want—I can’t fight with you right now.”

He softens somewhat as I try to slide into his arms, but he tilts his head at me and pushes me back, raking his gaze down my body and back up again. “You’re going to tell me.”

“Matti—”

“Don’t make me ask you again.” His voice is low, gravelly. His fingertips dig into my arms, his whole body taut with barely contained frustration.

Is he fucking serious right now? Like he has room to be angry about secrets?

“You know what, Matti, go fuck yourself. How long did you know that Franco killed my sister? How. FUCKING. LONG.” Now that I’ve said the words out loud, the rage explodes from my pores, and I’m shaking. But it’s as much over Dr. Rossi’s little announcement as it is Matti’s choice not to tell me about Franco.

I also know I’m being irrational. The truth is that I forgave Matti for keeping Franco’s involvement from me that day in his room after he got shot. I know why he did it. But right now I need the focus to not be on me, and I’m willing to doanything to not have to talk about Dr. Rossi’s news.

I try to wriggle out of Matti’s grasp, but I’m only able to step back when he decides to let me go.

“I was protecting you—”

“You were protecting me by lying to me, do I have that right? You told me that you killed Emily—”

“I never said those words.” His voice is softer now, and his jaw tics as he watches me.

“Oh, fuck off, Matti. You know you led me to believe that. Did you know the whole fucking time?”

“Not in the beginning, no.”

Wait—how long did he actually know and not tell me? “Then when?”

He hangs his head for a moment before looking up, shoving his hands in his pockets. A dark look falls over his face as he lifts his chin and looks down at me. “I had suspicions. I never trusted him. When he was held here, he said things that made me suspect that he might have had a hand in it. Then, when I saw the watch band, I knew.”

“And yet, you still didn’t tell me.”

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