Page 127 of Bitter Poetry
I want Christian.
His hand rests on his thigh, and I watch it curl into a fist before he relaxes it and rises. I can feel him looking down at me, but I can’t meet his eyes.
“Do you want to stay here tonight?”
God, I can’t be in that room and that bed.“Yes.”
“I’ll send Lillete up. Ask her to spend the night with you.”
“Thank you,” I say.
He’s at the door, about to leave.
“Ettore.”
He pauses with his hand on the handle and glances back.
“I’ve never really liked Christian.” There was a time when it was true. I can’t pinpoint exactly when it changed; I only know it did. “But he saved me tonight. Promise me you won’t hurt him.I’ve already been cruel and spiteful enough to him. Please don’t punish him further because of me.”
Do I give too much away with those words?
“I won’t.”
He leaves. A few minutes later, Lillete returns.
CHRISTIAN
The furniture has been shoved aside in the pool house, and plastic sheeting has been laid out. Cosmo is kneeling in the center of the sheeting with his wrists zip-tied at his back. Someone has busted his nose, and both his eyes are turning black. I’m pretty sure that was down to me.
The room is giving off Dexter vibes. And I really like that vibe.
Ettore wouldn’t usually off someone on his own property, but from the looks of things, he’s willing to break that rule for his brother tonight.
There are no less than eight soldiers standing around the room, and they all look like they are waiting for an excuse to put a beating on the shit. Cosmo must sense this because he doesn’t move or offer a peep. His head is down, staring at the ground.
Footsteps approach. The occupants of the room turn collectively as Ettore enters, flanked by Peter and Roman. I’m standing next to Jero, to the right of the doorway, and his eyes seek and rest on me for longer than I’m comfortable with.
“Ettore, thank God,” Cosmo begins, redirecting his brother’s attention.
Ettore walks over to his kneeling younger brother. “Cosmo. You disappoint me. How our late mother would weep.”
“It’s not what you think,” he babbles. “I didn’t…”
Fucking lowlife cretin.I step forward, ready to strangle the fuck. Jero’s arm shoots out to stop me.
I don’t have to worry about Ettore noticing. He’s already fisted his brother’s hair and arched his head up. He clamps his other hand over Cosmo’s jaw, his fingers pressing so deeply into the flesh that it turns white. “Don’t lie to me, Cosmo. Not tonight, not now.”
“I thought you wanted me to… you know.”
I inhale through my teeth.
Ettore punches Cosmo in the face. “Gag him.” He shakes out his hand, stepping back as two of his men surge forward.
Cosmos starts sniveling. It’s fucking pitiful. Snot and tears stream down his bloody face as the soldiers fit him with a gag.
“As if I would ever let a piece of shit like you touch my wife.”
Ettore is pissed. Good. I hope he ends the fuck.
