I take the blanket and tuck it around her. I swear I can hear the music again. That fucking Victrola Lucas had custom-made more than ten years ago. Can’t he fucking stream music like the rest of the world? He always did have a flair for the dramatic. I should have smashed the damned thing with a hammer the day he left.
“Didn’t I tell you to leave the locked doors alone?”
“It wasn’t locked. I saw you…” She shakes her head. “I thought…” Her forehead creases as she trails off. “But it wasn’t you.”
I haven’t seen my brother in too many years. Identical twins, almost. His eyes are a shade darker. Like his soul. Although if you asked him, I’m sure he’d call my soul black.
“Are you all right?” I ask Cristina when her wet eyes focus back on mine.
“Where is he?”
“Don’t worry about Lucas. He won’t hurt you.”
“He said…he asked if you’d been taking care of me for him.” Her face contorts.
Something twists inside my gut at my own memory of his words. Motherfucker. “Do you want something to help you sleep?”
“What did he mean, Damian?”
“Nothing. He won’t touch you.”
“Touch me?” She scrubs her face with her hands.
I pull them away. “He won’t hurt you. No one will.” I put my thumb to her ring. “This will keep you safe from them.”
“What do you mean?”
“Tomorrow, you and I will be married.”
“Tomorrow?”
“No one can touch you once that happens. Not the men at that party. Not those in my family.”
“But you will touch me.” She pulls her hands from mine.
Her comment catches me off guard.
“Did…his face…did that happen in the accident?”
I nod.
“He said it was your fault. Why?”
I lock my features. “Because I was driving.”
She looks confused.
“I was driving the car your father rammed into, sending us onto the path of that damned train.” The train only clipped the car, but at the speed it was traveling, it was enough. I wonder if it had hit us head-on if we wouldn’t have all been better off. The Di Santo family wiped from the face of the earth in one fell swoop.
She studies me for a long time.
I keep my features schooled. “I need to go. Do you need something to help you sleep?”
“One of your needles? No, thank you. Why is he here?”
“To take what’s mine.” I stand. “But don’t worry, I have no intention of giving it to him. Of giving you to him.” I walk to the door. “Get some sleep, Cristina.”
“I don’t want to marry you, Damian.”
“You want to remain fair game?”
“I want to go home.”
“I am your home. Haven’t you figured that out yet?”
“I won’t do it. I won’t marry you.”
“What are your options?”
“Just let me go.”
“You’re naïve, Cristina. Be grateful I’ve taken you under my protection.”
“Grateful?”
“Yes, grateful.” I walk back to her. “Look around you. You’re in my house. And in this house, you have one ally and many enemies. Those men at the party? I told you what they’d do to you if they could. Who’s left? Your uncle? You think he’ll save you? Remember that he sat at that table too. Or maybe your young cousin. He may be good at digging up information but I’m pretty sure even you don’t want him involved with men like us.”
She pushes a hand into her hair, then looks down as her forehead creases.
I take her chin and tilt her face up toward mine. “Your life before me is over. There is no going back. Understand that.”
“I already know that.” She tugs free.
“Good.”
She’s quiet for a long minute. “What happens after the year?”
I study her.
“Am I going to die because your sister died?”
I step away. I need a drink.
“Is that the plan?” she pushes.
“That’s not my plan.”
She rubs her face, wraps her hands around the back of her neck, then weaves her fingers together tightly in her lap.
“What do you mean? Please just explain everything to me. Just tell me. I can’t handle the games you’re playing, Damian. I’m not in your league. I’m…God, how many days has it been? I’m already falling apart. I want to talk to Liam. I want…I want this to go away. I want you to go away.”
“It’s not going away. I’m not going away. You will marry me because you need me to survive this.”
“Survive it how? How do I come out on the other side of this?”
I consider her and draw a tight breath in. My exhale is a sigh. “You give me what I want, and when it’s time, I will let you go.”
She opens her mouth, closes it again, and studies me, eyebrows furrowing. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“You’ll let me go?”
I nod.
“Why? Why would you do that?”
“What’s the point of keeping you when I’m through?”
She winces as if I’ve slapped her. I hear my words. Her expression darkens, a deep distrust settling in her eyes.