“I want daily messages telling me you’re okay, and I’ll track your whereabouts. If you don’t message me a day, I’ll send men over, even if it means war with the Camorra.”
I sighed. I knew that tone and that it was futile to discuss the matter further with him. “All right.”
The shower was turned off in the bathroom. Luckily, I could hear a knock in the background on Dad’s end. Dad was silent for a moment, as if he was listening to someone. “I have to go, Katinka. Be careful.”
“Always.” He hung up and I lowered the phone with a deep sigh.
“Bad news?” Adamo asked carefully, leaning in the doorway with only a towel wrapped around his hip.
“My father worries about me.”
“Will he send men?”
“No, as long as I give him daily updates that I’m alive, he won’t act. He trusts me.”
“But definitely not me,” Adamo said, walking toward me. “And he won’t ever do it.”
He was right. My father wasn’t a man who trusted easily, and certainly not a member of the Camorra. “It doesn’t matter. As long as I trust you,” I said.
Adamo sank down beside me. “And do you trust me?”
“Would I be here with you if I didn’t?”
Adamo shrugged. “Maybe I’m your only option.”
I shook my head. “I could do this on my own. I know the addresses of every person on our list and after today we know that I can go through with killing them, so if it was really just about convenience, I wouldn’t need you beyond this point.”
Adamo smiled mirthlessly. “Then why am I still here?”
“I don’t need you to kill them, but I need your support, your encouragement. When you are close, I just feel better, more secure in who I am.”
“You don’t need me but you do,” he murmured.
I sighed. “Maybe it doesn’t make sense.”
“Maybe you just need to admit that you need me. Today you acted out of an impulse, and completely lost control. You didn’t pay attention to what was happening around you. If the same thing happens next time, you’ll need me to make sure nothing happens while you’re in your zone.”
“Like hurting myself.”
“Or someone walking in on you. I doubt you would have noticed if someone had suddenly walked into the hardware store.”
“You’re right. It was as if I was possessed.” I leaned closer to Adamo. “Okay, I need you, but I don’t want you to think that’s why I want to be with you.”
“Then why do you want to be with me?”
“Why do you want to help me? Why do you do this for a girl you have sex with?”
“You’re not just a girl I have sex with.”
“And you’re not just a guy I have sex with.”
Adamo smiled crookedly. “One day one of us has to be brave and put a name to what we have.”
“Do we?” I whispered. Adamo lay back on the bed and pulled me against him, one arm wrapped around me. “Who’s going to make us?”
“Maybe we’ll want certainty at some point, or maybe eventually our families will want answers, more answers than we have at this point.”
“That’s not something I want to think about now. I want to live in the moment. Right now the only thing I want to focus on is revenge and how we can make every person on the list pay for what they did to me, and other children.”
Adamo ran his hand lightly over my upper arm. “Even if you killed in a rush today, that doesn’t mean you won’t be haunted by nightmares of the murder. Maybe they’ll cease eventually, maybe they won’t. I just want you to be sure you can live with them, especially if we continue to hunt down your abusers and more deaths are added to your conscience.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Will they be worse than the nightmares that have been haunting my dreams since I was a little kid? I doubt it. So if you ask me, these new nightmares will be a damn improvement to the horrors of my nights right now.”
Adamo’s arm around me tightened. “Fuck. I really wish I could have tortured the asshole today. I actually considered doing it before you showed up.”
I propped myself up. “The next name on our list…he was one of the worst. I mean, every experience was horrible but some were nicer about it.”
Adamo gritted his teeth. “Nice isn’t a word I’d use to describe the atrocities those perverts did to you.”
I swallowed. “And they’ll all pay for what they did. But the next guy on the list, he was bad, really bad. He liked to hurt, and I…” Killing my abusers was one thing, but torturing them was another matter. Even some of my father’s men couldn’t watch torture, could I? And not just watch, could I torture someone myself?