Page 17 of Red Retaliation
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Arianna
MY MOUTH DROPS OPEN. I don’t want it to. I don’t wish to give this Neanderthal the pleasure of witnessing my shock, but I cannot help it. Neither do I want to give any hint that his hard chest pressed against mine is hot. I will away the unwanted, forming dampness between my legs.
I don’t want to beg this man; I really don’t, but I need to ensure my family is safe. “Please,” I whisper, “my Papà and mother... My brother and sister, they...”
“You don’t have to stay here, Arianna.” Dropping his hold of me, Red sits back down, adjusting his leg to rest over the other knee, the movement showing the distinct outline of his muscular thighs. “I’ve agreed to help you, but you coming here, pointing the finger of blame atmefor the murder and mutilation of your husband to avoid payback coming down onyourfamily foryouracts, means that, under the circumstances, you don’t have the right to add conditions to my offer.”
I shudder at his words.Murder? Mutilation? My acts?
Redmond Bateman talks to me like I’m a cold, calculated killer and that doing what I did to Roberto was because he wouldn’t pay for my latest visit to the beauty salon or something!
My skin burns with resentment and shame. I’ll never tell this man the truth. I’ll never give him the satisfaction of knowing I spent far too long being a victim. If he wants to see me as a cold, murdering bitch, then let him.
My fingers twist in my lap, and I concentrate on thesmattering of dark hair on the back of Red’s hands under his pristine white cuffs. I wonder whether he has hair on his chest or whether he’s...
“You’ve asked for help, but you can’t call the shots abouthowthat help is given. Because of you, I expect a personal vendetta to be unleashed against me and my firm, therefore I’ll do whatever I see fit to do.”
I fixate on the black geometric outlines within the rug, a sudden urge to run my toes through the deep pile in the hope it stops my guilt from prodding. As much as I hate it, he’s right. I hadn’t contemplated that my actions might point in the Batemans’ direction. I hadn’t considered other people getting caught in the crossfire by my presence.
The Batemans are hardly innocent, but as much as they are enemies, I don’t want any more blood on my hands.
“I shouldn’t have come here,” I mumble. “I should leave.” I also need Red to leave; his presence crushes me. I can’t think straight; his very essence squeezes my soul from my body.
“If you leave, then you’ve fucked up my life for no end result, and that I will not accept. You begged me to deal with this, and so I am.” Red snatches my hand from my lap and holds it up, inspecting it. The touch of his fingers sends a chain of shivery ripples along my fingers into my arms.
“It didn’t take you long to ditch your husband’s wedding ring, did it?” he mocks. “Did he not pay you enough attention?”
I pull my hand away to stop the scorch of Red’s fingers against my skin. “How dare you! You know nothing ab... Shit!”
“What is it?” Red’s dark brows frown, the amusement dropping from his face.
I look up, too stressed to avoid his gaze. I’ve remembered something - something I should never have forgotten, and decide to ditch the plan of telling him nothing about me - not this bit, anyway. I must tell him because it could ruin everything.
“Arianna?” Red grabs my wrist yet again. “What’s the problem?”
I hesitate, barely able to form the words, and before I can stop myself, the tears that haven’t yet come since any of this happened begin to fall. This makes me even angrier and stressed, but I can’t keep it inside anymore. The combined panic and exhaustion suffocate too much for me to care. “How could I have been so stupid?”
“Arianna!” Red barks. “Rule one of being here is that you tell me what the fuck I need to know. I don’t expect to have to ask!”
Scraping my hand over my face, I push away the tears. What I really want to do is shunt away the images catapulting back into my mind. I wantto push away my whole life - I don’t want to be in this nightmare any longer.
“The rings,” I gasp in between my unwanted sobs. “After I slit Roberto’s throat, I... I... took my rings off and rammed them into the wound.” I see a look on Red’s face that I don’t expect: respect.
But there’s something else there too.Worry. And the worry in his eyes is the same as what’s avalanching over me. “They’ll find them, won’t they?” Without thinking, I grab his hand. “The undertaker... They’ll find the rings during the post-mortem, and then they’ll know it’s me.”
I shake uncontrollably, the events of the past twenty-four hours finally hitting me. Chopping Roberto’s cock off and slitting his throat was one thing, but shoving my wedding and engagement rings into his neck was akin to leaving a calling card. “Oh God, my family will be killed and I...”
My sobs render me powerless, and I no longer care if this man thinks I’m a failure because Iam. “Everything I’ve done, everything I’ve put up with... It’s all been for nothing.”
“I’ll sort it.” Red pulls me against his chest and I don’t resist. But when his arms unexpectedly wrap around me, holding me close, for a moment I forget who he is and whoIam. I need to be held. I need someone to tell me it will be all right even though I know it can’t be.
I continue to cry, soaking Red’s posh white shirt with tears and makeup, purging myself of a small part of the fear, resentment and panic. I need this release and, for once, someone is letting me have it.
“Arianna.” Red’s deep voice vibrates through me as I press my face into his shirt. “I’ll sort this, okay? You need to trust me.”
I say nothing.Trust Redmond Bateman?Hardly. I’m not mentally deranged - this isn’t something that can be sorted, but I appreciate the sentiment. As his arms tighten further around me, making me feel safe for the first time in a very long time, I decide to pretend, just for a short while, that hecansort out my gross error.
