There’s a moment of tension and silence.
Wordlessly, he fixes the mattress but leaves the clothes askew and exhales a heavy sigh, grabbing the condom and shucking it across the room. “So much for that happening tonight,” he mutters.
“It’s not my fault you ruined a perfect moment.”
“Me?” He laughs darkly. “You’re the one with all the secrets, keeping your relationship with Agent Malone a secret.”
“If I was friends with her, do you think I’d still be locked up in your house? Maybe the secrets I keep are your fault. If you let me and my children free, I wouldn’t be like this,” I say.
He snatched me off the street at gunpoint. He can’t pretend that didn’t happen, that we’re in a happy and healthy relationship. He’s delusional if he thinks I love him and want to be here with him.
He reaches for his boxers and whips them back on before grabbing his clothes off the floor.
It’s any wonder he can find them with all my stuff littered on the ground. “You’re leaving,” I say, dumbfounded.
Is that what Antonio always does, fight and run?
“Isn’t that what you want?” He turns around to face me.
Oddly enough, it’s not what I want. I want him, but he seems out of reach, a thousand miles away, even if he’s just inches from the bed.
I want his apology. I want his anger turned from discontent to passion. I want to believe that he isn’t a monster beneath his icy exterior.
I open my mouth and quickly shut it. What’s the point of declaring anything when he’s got a mafia to run, and I’m nothing more than a possession to him?
“Go,” I say with as much conviction as I can muster.
I don’t mean it.
I don’t want him to go. The fight isn’t over, but emotionally, I’m drained.
I want us to be tangled in the bedsheets and forget this stupid argument ever happened. I want to feel his lips against mine, telling me he’s sorry, that he’s wrong, that he trusts me because I haven’t done anything to betray him.
But I’m not great at relationships. I have my own bratva family to thank for that, and now I’ve made a mess of whatever was finally transpiring between us.
I should have burned that stupid business card or, better yet, dropped it in the street when she’d given it to me.
Antonio undoubtedly will hate me. He will grow to despise me, just like my father did with my mother.
Antonio leans down, capturing my lips in one last fiery kiss. It’s forceful and rough. His fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me harder and tighter with a brashness that demands control and power.
He’s in charge, and he’s making it known.
The kiss ends as quickly as it started.
I pull my bottom lip between my teeth. I can still feel him against my mouth, his breath lingering on my cheek, even though he’s approaching the door.
I open my mouth, and I want to tell him not to leave, that I’m sorry, that he means more to me than I care to admit. I’m crazy for wanting him, even after the fight that just transpired.
But nothing spills out, and instead, I’m left in the cold, alone, with silence filling the void.