Twisted Cravings (The Camorra Chronicles, #6)(77)

“Remo Falcone made sure I couldn’t forget what happened,” she said, but she didn’t say it as if this had caused her distress on my behalf. Her voice rang with self-pity. She met Adamo’s gaze. “He’s your brother. You know how he is. Have you told her?”

“Whatever my brother did is nothing in comparison to what you did to your own daughter,” Adamo growled, his eyes flashing with violence.

My own hunger for blood answered. I wasn’t sure why I was still talking to my mother. Maybe deep down I hoped she’d realize what she did, how she broke a young child’s trust and ruined my life, but I wouldn’t get the satisfaction of an honest apology. My mother was incapable of seeing her mistakes.

I took the gun from the holster under my leather jacket. My mother jerked to her feet with raised hands. “Please, Dinara. You won’t feel better if you kill me. You’ll be guilty.”

“Guilty?” I rasped. “As guilty as you feel for what you did to me?”

I raised the gun, pointed it straight at her head. Her frantic eyes searched the room for an opportunity to escape, to save herself. My finger on the trigger shook. I only had to pull the trigger to end this but I was unable to move. I wasn’t sure what was holding me back. I didn’t love the woman before me, but until this point, a tiny, silly part had hoped everything would turn out to be a big misunderstanding, that there was an explanation that would prove my mother’s innocence. I knew that wouldn’t happen, but my heart had foolishly clung to hope. I’d wanted to find a mother I could love, a mother I could forgive. The woman before me wasn’t that mother.

I turned away, unable to look at her. Adamo touched my shoulder, searching my eyes. “I can’t,” I said almost tonelessly, lowering the gun.

“Do you want me—”

“No,” I said quickly. I put the gun down on the side table.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed my mother approach us hesitantly.

“You won’t regret it, I swear. Now that you decided to spare me, Remo will let me go, like you said. I’ll leave and never come back. But…” She licked her lips. “Your father will hunt me. I’ll need some money to reach Europe and create a new life for me over there.”

Adamo’s expression shifted to absolute fury. “Are you asking Dinara for money?”

Eden took a step back. “If she wants me to live and not have my death on her conscience, I need some money to escape Grigory.”

New tears pressed against my eyeballs. “Just like you needed money last time but back then you couldn’t ask me for it, so you sold me to old men who molested me.”

I began to shake, anger and utter despair battling inside of me. I ripped the knife out of its holster and whirled around. With a hoarse cry, I smashed the blade into her chest. Her eyes widened and her lips parted in a silent cry.

Then she crumpled to the ground, taking me with her because I was still clutching the knife. I landed on my knees beside her. I released the knife, gripped her shoulders and began to shake her.

“How could you do this to me? How? How?” I screamed. My tears blinded my vision and my throat was raw from screaming. “How? Why didn’t you love me enough to protect me? Why?” I kept shaking her and screaming but she couldn’t answer me, and no matter what she’d have said it would have never given me the answer I wished for.

I released her and curled up, my face buried in my hands, which were sticky with her blood. I sobbed and shuddered. “Why didn’t you love me?”

Adamo knelt down beside me and wrapped an arm around me, pulling me against him. “She was a monster and never deserved to be your mother.

You are lovable and I love you.”

I froze against him, sucking in a shaky breath. I lifted my face. I must have looked a mess with blood, tears, and snot on my face but Adamo’s expression was full of love. “You love me?”

“Yes, even if I’m breaking our keeping it casual pact. I don’t care. I won’t hide my emotions. I fucking love you and you better deal with it.”

I let out a strangled laugh. “I love you, too.” I kissed Adamo but when I pulled back his lips were coated with blood. My eyes sought the corpse of my mother right beside us. Her blood was slowly spreading under her body and her lifeless eyes stared at the ceiling.

I sagged against Adamo, adrenaline fading and leaving a strange sensation of emptiness. I’d done it. We’d done it. Killed every single tormentor on my list. Even my mother. I’d expected euphoria and relief, and there was a flicker of relief but stronger was the uncertainty. What now? All my life, I’d thriven to uncover my past and then to punish those who’d abused me. Now that I’d succeeded, I had to focus on my future, on new goals and figure out what I really wanted.

I reached into my jean shorts, and took out the crumpled piece of paper, dotted with blood. I’d kept it in my pocket since we’d started our path of vengeance.

We were done with our list. It seemed forever ago that we’d killed the first man on the list. Every second of every day had been dominated by thoughts of revenge. It had occupied my every thought, my night and days, and now, that we’d reached the end, a feeling of “what now?” took hold of me.

Adamo stroked my back. Neither he nor I made a move to get up from the blood puddle gathering around us, soaking our clothes. It was still warm.