Page 70 of Little Deer
Now, I have to wait until morning to find out. Rude.
I look back at the journal in the dim light, thinking of everything I read.
She knew she was going to die in the end. The writing was on the wall, as she said, and she welcomed it. She didn’t want to live the way she had anymore. I can understand it in a way, but what I can’t understand is her loathing toward Gia through the rest of it. There were almost daily entries for months of how she couldn’t stand to be close to her. Couldn’t look at her. How angry she was at her for ruining her plans. Basically wishing her dead.
One thing I don’t think I can ever stomach Gia knowing is that at one point when she was two and had been particularly upset that day, she almost went into her nursery to end it. Overdose her on pills, or just snap her neck. It wasn’t like Leonardo or the others would miss her.
I can’t forgive her for that. I can’t ever think of her in a good light after knowing that. She really did hate Gia. All because of an accident that wasn’t Gia’s fault. Me and Sienna, she sometimes wondered about us, but she also wrote that she was glad we weren’t around. She didn’t want to hate us too. She could pretend we were better off, and we didn’t exist. Or, in one angry entry, that we were dead too.
How can a woman hate her children so much?
A woman who was put into a life she didn’t want. The tired thought echoes in my head, but I still can’t draw up any sympathy.
I just hope that whatever’s in Amara’s mother’s journal is better. Easier.
I slide out of bed and quietly make my way to the bathroom. I’m excited to see that the doctor was right and the bleeding has finally stopped. I guess earlier today was just the last rush of it. Thank God. Now, if we can get my hormones under control, I’ll be all set.
I look at myself in the mirror, staring at a woman I’m not sure I recognize anymore. The woman staring back at me looks far too comfortable, too content to be in a place like this. There’s stress, yes, but not the freak out that there should be. I should be searching this place high and low to get out of here. To get away from all of this and hide us away.
Instead, I’m being drawn into the craziness around me, and I’m allowing myself to be attracted to a man I have no business being attracted to. A man who makes me want things I told myself I wouldn’t allow myself to want again. I can’t trust myself.And Massimo Caruso can break me. Far worse than Joey ever did.
It’s fucking terrifying.
Think about you and me, about what we can be, what you want. We can work everything else out, but the only thing that matters is you and me.
What do I want? Do I really want to risk everything for something with Massimo? Hell, how can I even be thinking of such a thing? Even if I don’t want to leaveyet, I should be paying attention to anything and everything that could help end this, so my life can return to some semblance of normal.
“Get a grip, Lucy. One hot man cannot derail your entire life.”
So why does it feel like that’s exactly what he’s about to do?
No point in dwelling on it tonight. I turn out the light and head into the walk-in closet to find some pajamas to wear. I stop, though, when I walk in and see Massimo standing there, holding some clothes of his own. He regards me closely, even as I stare at him.
Wait, when did he get back?
“Oh, ah, hi,” I whisper. I glance at the closet door and see it’s closed. At least we haven’t woken Kida or Soren. “What did you find?”
The tiredness leaks away at the prospect of more secrets being unveiled. It’s like living in my own book adventure. I swear to God, if there is buried treasure in this place, I’m going to lose my shit. Hell, I’ll have to write my own book about it.
Massimo sets aside his clothes before moving toward me. I’m too distracted by the possibilities whirling through my head to realize what he’s about to do. Suddenly, I’m lifted from the ground, my back pressed against the wall beside the bathroom door, and his mouth is heavy on mine.
This isn’t gentle like before. No, this is pure desire. A claiming.
Holy shit, it’s hot and perfect.
I groan into his mouth, my legs wrapping around his hips as he devours me. I can only hold on for the ride as his mouth plunders mine. Tongues, teeth, and lips war, until I’m a quivering mess and my hands are gripping his shirt so tight I’m surprised the fabric doesn’t tear.
When he finally pulls his mouth from mine, he moves it down to my neck, pressing quick kisses to the sensitive skin, then scraping his teeth, making me moan low and long at the sensations. “Massimo,” I breathe.
He gives a low groan of his own, nipping under my jaw, before he pulls his head back to look at me. “The way I crave you, Lucy, it’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before. I saw you, and I had to taste you. It’s like a compulsion.”
My brain short-circuits. He really feels that way?
“And that’s a bad thing?” I manage to ask.
“Never. I’ll die a happy man knowing that I’ve had a chance to taste you.” He presses his mouth to mine one more time in a quick, hard kiss before he lays his forehead against mine, neither of us speaking. Just breathing each other in.
Finally, Massimo lifts his head and says, “I thought you’d be asleep by now.”
