Page 80 of Savage Saint
"We've talked about this." Her voice is careful, measured. "Tomasz will be home soon."
"Tomasz." The name is spoken like a curse. "My brother doesn't deserve you, Ewa. Doesn't deserve her."
I feel my mother's pulse hammering against my cheek. "Please. Just go."
"Look at me." Footsteps cross the room. He's close, too close. "You know this can't last forever. This... pretending."
"I'm not pretending anything." But her voice wavers.
"Aren't you?" A pause. "I'm patient, Ewa. But not infinitely so. And accidents... they happen to careless people."
The room goes silent except for my mother's shaky breathing.
"Think about what's best for your daughter," he says softly. "For all of us."
The door closes, and my mother rocks me harder, her tears falling like rain as she whispers words I can't understand, her voice breaking on a melody that will haunt my dreams.
The memory fractures, splintering into confusing pieces. The lullaby fades, replaced by Jerzy's cold stare as he stands over me in the training room."You are a weapon. Nothing more."
I snap back to the present, my hands shaking, rage building in my belly like a fire. The heat of it crawls up my spine, floods my chest. I want to scream, to break something, to tear this life apart until I find the truth beneath all the lies.
Angelo watches me. His eyes track the storm brewing in mine, the way my fingers flex and curl into fists.
"You're going somewhere again," he says quietly, same as before. But this time it's not a question.
"I need to go," I whisper, my voice raw. Not just from this room, but from this limbo. This waiting. This useless hiding while girls die, girls marked just like me. Except they don't know how to defend themselves.
I see the second he realises what I mean, what I'm planning.
I don't wait for him to stop me. I lunge toward the door.
Angelo moves like lightning, blocking my path with his body. So solid. So infuriating.
"You need to let me go," I spit, striking out with an open palm toward his face.
He catches my wrist mid-air. "No."
Just that. One word. Firm and final and maddening.
I twist, feinting left before dropping low to sweep his legs. He jumps over my kick and counters with a grab that I barely slip.
The living room becomes a battlefield. The coffee table skids across hardwood as I vault over it. A lamp crashes to the floor. I use every inch of space, every piece of furniture as a weapon or shield.
"I'm an asset," I shout as I duck beneath his arm, spinning to face him again. "You can't lock me here just because you're scared."
His eyes flash dark, dangerous. "The only thing that terrifies me is something happening to you. You're staying here."
I laugh, bitter and sharp. "I'm not fragile.Hemade sure of it."
I throw a punch that clips his jaw, but he doesn't even flinch. Just watches me with those bottomless eyes, letting me expend my fury against the unmovable wall of him.
"Fight back," I demand, launching another strike, this time to his ribs.
He blocks, swift and efficient, but doesn't counter. "Is that what you want, Butterfly? For me to hurt you?"
The question stops me cold, my next attack faltering. Because no, that's not what I want. I don't want to hurt him either. What I want is for him to understand.
"I want you to see me," I say, dropping my guard just enough to show my truth. "Not as something that needs protecting. As someone who can help. As someone who's been trained her whole life for exactly this."
