Page 50 of Thorns of Desire
“You okay?” His serious tone shattered the silence as I leaned over the sink and washed my hands.
I met his eyes in the mirror. “You really have to learn some rules about women’s privacy.”
“I asked you a question.”
Tension hung thickly in the air, but I refused to let it get to me. I waved my hand in the air, splashing droplets of water everywhere.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. Just tipsy, and that water really made me have to pee.”
He took my hand into his and said, “Let’s find your friend and get the fuck out of here.”
“That sounds great.” It was the last time I was drinking those damn fruity drinks. I barely had three and I felt like I’d been hit by a train.
Unfortunately, by the time we returned to the dance floor, Raven was nowhere to be found, and when I checked my phone, there was a single text waiting for me.
Raven: ??????Wish me luck.
“Damn traitor. I hope she doesn’t get any,” I muttered under my breath, shoving the screen with the message into Manuel’s face, completely missing the last emoji and meaning behind it. “I’m going to put her in my book and then kill her off.”
TWENTY
MANUEL
Ihad not expected to run into Athena at the Leone brothers’ nightclub—least of all drunk as a sailor. I was there to recruit Giovanni Agosti to help with the Triads. I had no contacts in the Albanian mafia and the Cortes cartel were out of the question, but as the direct heir to the Tijuana organization, he would be able to dig back through the Tijuana cartel records. I needed to know the missing piece of this entire puzzle, and my instincts warned it started with that deal Atticus screwed up twenty-three years ago.
Once at my penthouse, which I kept for my private use, I gave Athena aspirin and a glass of water, then tucked her into my bed. The moment her head hit the pillow, she let out a soft sigh and her lashes fluttered shut.
I was just stepping away when she jerked, sitting upright and looking around frantically. “Wh-where’s the window?”
“It’s shut.” I wondered whether she was cold, if maybe I needed to bring her an extra blanket.
Terror skidded across her expression, her eyes darting around with wild panic. “I need to see the sky.” Her hand cameto her chest, tapping it faster and faster. “Open the curtain. Please, please.”
I found her reaction strange, but I wasn’t going to fuel her anxiety, no matter how confusing it seemed. I rushed and pulled them open, and her shoulders instantly slumped as she fell back onto the pillows.
“What are you so afraid of,amorina?”
“I’m not afraid of anything.”
“Bullshit,” I told her softly. She closed her eyes, but not before a tear slipped down her cheek. I closed the distance between us, sitting down on the edge of the bed, then wiped the tear away with my thumb, fierce protectiveness rising inside me. “It’s okay to be afraid, but you have to face those fears. Otherwise they fester.”
A gulp filled the silence. “Speaking from experience?”
I wound my fingers through her hair, marveling at the silkiness of it. “We’re all scared of something.”
“What are you scared of?”
“Loving someone and losing them,” I told her softly. It was a fear I’d harbored since I was a little boy—not that it had been enough to keep me away lately—but I kept that thought to myself. “I’ve seen what that kind of loss does to people. I saw what it did to my parents, my brother, and I… I hate the helplessness that comes along with it.”
Her eyes opened, those striking greens sparkling like emeralds when our gazes met.
“Me too. Love brings nothing but trouble and pain,” she mumbled, peering at me from under her lashes. “But it’s supposed to hurt, otherwise it’s not love.”
“Che, amorina?”
“My mother’s words. They still haunt me, you know.” Her eyes filled with tears, and something about them gave me pause. They were tears of anguish and pain. “She cried a lot back then.”
“It’s not always so,” I told her softly. “Our parents’ lives aren’t ours. Your mom’s pain shouldn’t be yours.”
