Page 81 of Tainted Obsession 1
“I did what was necessary to save her,” I hedge.
She shivers. “Just like you saved me?”
My stomach turns.
“I’ve killed for you several times,” I remind her, defensive. “You know that. You didn’t look at me like that before.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m evil,” I growl.
My mother’s final expression of horror plays through my mind in a sickening loop, blurring with the memory of Evelyn’s fearful, blood-splattered face.
My fault.
My mother’s death was my fault, just like Evelyn’s plight was caused by my actions. She ran away because I was too arrogant and controlling to bother explaining myself to her.
And my parents…
They were gunned down because I provoked the gang. I wanted to be one of those boys. My parents tried to teach me that violence wasn’t the only path open to me, but I disdained their worldview. I always wanted to be dangerous, powerful.
Now, I am.
And the only innocent, good hearted people who’ve ever cared about me have suffered for it. My mother and father are dead. Evelyn was assaulted.
I bury my face in my hands as the revelations crush me.
I’ve never doubted myself before, never questioned my choices. I take what I want and do what’s necessary to live.
But I didn’t just surviveLe Vele; I’ve thrived in my criminal underworld. I’ve loved the freedom my violent lifestyle affords me, and I’ve never stopped to think about who might become collateral damage to my selfishness.
My code of honor dictates that I don’t harm innocents, but I’ve managed to hurt the people closest to me. The ones who deserved my protection the most have suffered because of my choices.
Evelyn’s soft fingertips touch my hair in a tentative stroke, barely brushing the dark strands. I lean into her touch with a low groan, desperate for more tender contact. I’m addicted to her,and even though I don’t deserve her, I crave her nearness. Her forgiveness.
The absolution only she can offer.
“You scared me last night,” she says gently. “But I’m not afraid of you, Massimo.”
My heart leaps into my throat, cutting off my ability to speak.
“Talk to me,” she urges. “You promised you would explain yourself to me. Tell me what you’re feeling.”
My hands drop from my face so that I can meet her lovely eyes. They shine with compassion, her awful fear finally chased away by concern for me.
I cradle her delicate face in my hands like she’s the most precious treasure in the world.
“This is all my fault,” I confess. “You were hurt because of me. And my parents…” My throat works, but I couldn’t force out the words.
Tears glitter on her lashes. Tears for me.
“You said they were killed in front of you. I’m sorry. But you saved me. I’m right here, Massimo. I’m alive.”
“They were killedbecauseof me,” I correct her, the truth drawn from me like poison from a wound. “I provoked the gang that murdered them. I wanted to join them, and I resented my parents for sheltering me. So, I put them at risk for my own gain. I wanted a life of violence, and they died for it. I got what I wanted.”
She trails her fingers through my hair again, her touch sure and soothing.
“You’re not responsible,” she counters softly. “The boy who shot them took their lives, not you. You were just a child in a difficult situation.”
