Page 51 of Where Dark Hearts Devour
“Um, I’m fine.” Even as I say the words the steps are swimming before me. “But I don’t think I can go inside.”
I feel his large palm cradling my elbow and guiding me to a bench.
“Put your head between your knees.”
When I don’t respond, his hand moves to my nape and pushes me down gently. I close my eyes and focus on my breathing, and slowly, my head begins to feel normal again.
After a few minutes have passed, I look up at the doors to the church. They’ve been closed. “Shit,” I mutter. “I need to be inside. Savero ...” I go to stand but wobble precariously.
Cristiano’s hands find my hips and press down firmly, until I’m once again sitting beside him. “Savero will be fine. He’s survived without a woman by his side for thirty-two years. He can get through another day.”
I cast my gaze to Cristiano. “Thirty-two? I had no idea he was twelve years older than me.”
His expression darkens. “What happened just now? I thought you were going to faint on me.”
I stare at my hands. “The last time I visited this church, it was ...” I swallow, but the dryness grows tighter, the lump in my throat larger. “It was for my mama’s funeral.”
Cristiano lifts a hand to his face and presses his thumb and middle finger to the bridge of his nose. “Fuck,” he whispers coarsely. “How long ago was that?”
“Five years.” I take deep breaths and look up at the building. “It feels like it was only yesterday. I can’t believe five years have passed since I last saw her.”
“What happened?” His voice is surprisingly soft.
“She was driving me to an art class.” My voice sounds faraway, and the image in my mind crackles like a vintage movie that’s been played too many times. “I didn’t want to go, but she’d already paid for it. We got into a huge fight, so we were late getting into the car.”
That will always be my biggest regret: fighting with Mama that day.
“Even though she was driving fast, we noticed a car following us. We were used to being trailed, and we often had a couple of Papa’s security guys with us for protection. But that day we were too late for my class already, so we didn’t call the guys, and we didn’t try to lose the car like we normally would. When we stopped at a set of lights, a guy jumped out of the car, ran over to us, and smashed in the driver’s window. My face got all cut from the glass.”
Cristiano stills beside me, but I can hear his breathing, slow and steady, matching mine to his and grounding me while I recount the moment my life changed forever.
“He was screaming at Mama, and she screamed back at him. I can’t remember what they were saying, because I was terrified. Then he reached into the car and started strangling her ...”
I stop to catch my breath. I never again want to feel as helpless as I did that day.
“Then another guy came out of nowhere, pulled out a gun, and before I could even figure out what was going on, he’d shot Mama. She died instantly.”
I slowly become aware of a hand stroking the tears from my cheeks. “I can’t forget the look on her face. So angry and afraid. Then, as the blood drained away, her expression changed. She looked peaceful.”
Cristiano continues to breathe steadily. “What did you do?”
“Nothing.” I lift my lids to check for a reaction, but there is none. “I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. No sound would come out of my mouth at all. It was the gunshots that raised the alarm. The police took me home and broke the news to Papa.”
Out of the corner of my eye, Cristiano scrubs a hand across his face. “Does Sav know any of this? That this is the church where you held her funeral?”
I drop my lids and shake my head slowly. “It wouldn’t make any difference,” I say with a trace of bitterness. “I know people die in this life all the time. I can hardly boycott the biggest church in the city, can I?”
He stares straight ahead with an almost angry glint in his eye.
Nerves skitter across my skin as I prepare to ask him his story. “You lost your mama too, right?”
He inhales a deep breath and exhales it through pursed lips. Then he rubs his hands over his knees.
“You don’t have to answer that. I just?—”
“No,” he cuts in. “We did lose her. She was also shot dead. A drive-by, to get to my father.”
Oh.
