I can hear genuine concern in his voice, and he scrutinizes me like he’s searching for the truth.
I sigh. “I’m doing okay. It’s not as bad as it was at the beginning. In fact, Kellan has warmed up to me, so it’s not that hard to be with him nowadays.”
Marco frowns. I don’t know if he heard about my tattoo, since he was away for quite a while during the training. It would be quite shocking for him if he didn’t hear about it.
“Marco,” someone calls.
Both Marco and I snap our heads toward the source of the voice, only to find one of Luca’s friends watching us. I’m instantly on alert.
“Don’t worry. It’s my brother,” Marco says in an assuring tone. “He won’t hurt you.”
His brother squints at me, but Marco is right. Without Luca, I see no threat from him. He just wants to talk to Marco.
“I gotta go now,” Marco says. “I’m going to stay in touch with you. See you later.”
I watch as Marco rushes toward his brother, who speaks to him frantically. I’m guessing that it’s about the mission Marco is about to go on. A sigh leaves my mouth.
I just hope that he’ll be alright, because unlike most of the people here, I feel like Marco doesn’t belong in this mafia world.
Chapter 25
Layla
After having my lunch with Zoe at her place, I come back to Kellan's room, only to find him standing near the window with his back facing the door. The moment he hears me coming in, he turns around, accidentally knocking one of the photo frames on his desk.
I'm about to help him pick it up when he reaches for it. I look at the photo, the one of him when he was still a little boy, sitting side by side with a little girl. She's smiling sweetly while he has a smirk on his face. I guess that it's his younger sister, Inez, who died in the car accident.
"Is that..." I falter as he puts the frame back on the desk. "Your sister?" I ask carefully.
Things have been good between us nowadays, and I don’t want to ask something that will trigger his trauma. But I just can’t help it. I want him to tell me more about himself and his family.
His lips twitch as sudden pain crosses his expression.
"I'm sorry," I quickly say. "I didn't mean to make youremember the pain of losing her. I just wanted to ask. She's beautiful."
Kellan doesn't respond. He walks toward the bed and sits on it. Since I've been living with him, I've learned the way he reacts when he's trying to shut off. He's restless now, and it's the sign.
But I know that he can become better.
I sit on the bed beside him and whisper, "I'm sorry."
I'm sure that he can hear my pain too.
"I'm so sorry that you lost her."
He swallows.
Seconds pass in silence, but then he opens his mouth. "At first, I couldn't believe that she was gone." His voice is filled with agony, and it breaks my heart. "I protected her with my life. I was sure that I engulfed her so that nothing could hurt her, not even when I felt extreme pain all over my body. The last thing I felt against my chest before I blacked out was her heartbeat. She couldn't be gone."
Now, I'm not even sure that I can hear their story. It's too painful.
"Kellan," I breathe, not wanting him to continue the story if he can't. But on the other hand, another part of me wants him to let it out so that the anger wouldn't suffocate him.
"I don't fucking know why, but a part of me insists that she's still alive, living somewhere, breathing," he says, his intense gray eyes darkening.
He sounds like he still has much more to say, but then his face falls. There's nothing but sorrow in his expression.
"Even if she were still alive, I might not recognize her anymore. My fucking eyes..."