Does It Hurt? (77)

“I don’t believe in God, but I do believe they were saints for putting up with me.”

She sniffs. “Well, I don’t either, but if Heaven exists, they’ve definitely earned their place dealing with you. You’re a naturally mean person.”

The corner of my mouth twitches again when I see how dilated her eyes are. If I lean in between her thighs, I know I would smell her. I’m at the perfect height to do so.

But she’s injured and messing around with her yesterday was already pushing things.

“Naturally,” I repeat dryly.

She clears her throat, wiping her hands on her t-shirt. “Well, that apology was very big of you, Enzo,” she compliments. “But you can, like, get up now.”

It’s getting harder to contain my grin. I stand, and she steps back into the table, causing the legs to screech against the wood floor. She looks me up and down, reminded of how much bigger I am than her. She also glimpses how hard I am for her, deepening that pretty flush on her rosy cheeks.

“I’m going to get some water, and then… then I’m going to, like, sleep or something. But tomorrow, I want to look for the beacon.”

I dip my chin. “For us both to leave,” I push, wanting to hear her agreement out loud.

She rolls her lips, rocking back and forth on her toes.

“For us both,” she says finally.

I let my smirk loose just a little when she steps around me, nearly bumping into the table again to get past. She could’ve gone the other way and had plenty of room. Whether she realizes it or not, she gravitates toward me just as I do her.

I grab her bicep, stopping her. A visceral desire to take her nearly sends me plummeting back down to my knees, and I know that if I succumb to it, she will be standing above me, her cunt resting on my lips.

Feeling her so close, yet unable to fuck her, is like asking a predator to turn its back on their prey, starved and desperate for just a taste.

“Lay down. I’ll get the water and some medicine,” I order her, my voice raspy with carnal need. I give her another once-over. “Maybe find some pants while I’m gone. I can smell your pussy from here.”

Her mouth drops. “You are so sleeping on the floor tonight.”

For her, I would.





Chapter 24


Sawyer




They say you’re never supposed to sleep with concussions. That’s common knowledge. But I’ve reached the point where I don’t care if it makes me brain dead, I’d rather be knocked out than listen to this.

There’s someone—something—weeping on the third floor, right above us. Enzo said it’s the ghost of Sylvester’s daughter, Trinity, who hung herself outside our window.

Sylvester said she cried a lot.

And her cries are making me feel physically nauseous. They’re muffled, but they sound strange. Almost like’s she’s trying to scream but can’t.

Enzo lays beside me, stiff as a board, as he stares up at the ceiling. We’re both on our backs, wide awake and disturbed.

“What do you think is worse? Suffering in life, or suffering in death?” I ask, my voice cracked and uneven.

“Death,” he answers quietly. “Then, it’s eternal.”

I turn to look at him. “Do you believe in an afterlife? You must, right? Since you were raised by nuns.”

He shakes his head. “I believe our souls either move on to somewhere unknown, get stuck, or reincarnate into another body. I never believed in what they did. They hoped God would heal my wounds and guide me in life. Thought I’d eventually become a priest and tell people my story and how I overcame it. But the more I read the Bible, the more lost I became.”

I roll to my side to face him and tuck my hands under my head. He sighs, sensing the onslaught of questions, but I’m undeterred.

“What was it like growing up?”

“It’s not an interesting story, bella.”

“It’s interesting to me,” I argue. “Tell me.”

He frowns, making me wonder if Enzo has ever let anyone get close to him. He keeps people at arm’s length, too afraid they’ll hurt him. And the fact that I did hurt him makes me want to stab myself in the eye.

“After mia madre left me on the steps, I was taken to the Istituto Sacro Cuore, where I was raised and went to school. Every day was prescheduled. I woke up at 7 AM for prayers. Would eat breakfast at 8, then start schooling at 8:30. After, I’d eat dinner and get one hour to say prayers before bed. Just to do it all over again the next day.”

There’s a thump from above, causing me to jump and sending my heart flying in my throat. Trinity is still crying, and it sounds like she’s beginning to grow angry.

“What about your father? He didn’t care that she left you?” I ask hesitantly, nervous the question will anger him.

“He died while she was pregnant with me. He was a fisherman. He and his crew got caught up in a severe storm one night. Waves got so high, it’s a miracle the boat didn’t go under. But there was one that sent six men overboard. There one second, gone the next. Mio padre was among those men. It hasn’t slipped my notice that I nearly died the same way.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“Don’t be. I never knew him, but at least he gave me my love for the sea.”