Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 54092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
I've never understood that as acutely as I do right now.
"Stupid invisible doorstep," Norah mutters, stumbling into the foyer. "Stupid dark house. Why aren't there any stupid lights on?"
"Because I was enjoying my solitude," I say drily.
"Christ on a cracker!" she shouts.
I sigh, not even remotely prepared for whatever conversation she's here to have with me now.
"Mr. Valentino?
"You're not the FBI."
"Um, no." She takes a shuffling step toward me and then stops.
"Pity.
"My name is…"
"Norah Bishop," I say when she hesitates.
She doesn't say anything.
I give up and reach for the lamp, switching it on. She stands frozen just outside of the living room, her feet rooted to the floor. Her eyes are wide, her face pale. She's terrified out of her mind, but she came here anyway. Interesting. She's a curvy little doll with bright eyes and pale blonde hair. She's a year or two younger than Amalia.
They're both too fucking young to be caught up in any of this…and yet they are.
"Are you okay?" she asks.
I stare at her, not speaking. Three nights ago, she watched me murder a man. Now, she's asking if I'm okay? She's just like Nico.
"I mean, obviously you're not okay. You're sitting in the dark drinking whiskey," she mutters, desperate to fill the silence. I don't think silence is in her nature. "No one sits in the dark and drinks whiskey if they're having a good day."
"Why are you here, Norah?" I ask quietly, not correcting her about my alcohol of choice.
She snaps her mouth closed, watching me intently.
"You have a tendency to show up in places you shouldn't," I say. "Does my brother know you're here?"
"No," she whispers and then lick her lips. "I mean yes."
"You're a terrible liar, Miss Bishop," I mutter, raising my glass to my lips to hide a smile, my first all day. I…like this girl. She's brave as hell. She'll be good for Nico. "He would have tied you to his bed before he let you come here on your own."
"I snuck out," she admits, wiping her hands on her pants.
"Why?"
"Because I wanted to talk to you."
I lower my glass again without taking a sip. "You wanted to talk to me."
"Yes."
"Go on then. Talk."
Amalia would love her. They'd be two peas in a pod.
"I…" She huffs out a breath, clearly searching for words. "I came to make you a deal."
"You want to make a deal with me."
Oh, yes. Amalia would definitely love this girl. She has fire in her, and spirit.
"Yes," she says, squaring her shoulders. "You took your father's side to save Nico."
I blink, caught off guard.
"You knew he wasn't cut out for this life," she says, stumbling over the words in her haste to get them out. "So you offered yourself up to your father in exchange for his freedom."
"Interesting theory."
"Am I wrong?"
"Does it matter?"
"It matters to me," I say. "It matters to you. I think it'd matter to Nico too."
I take a sip of my brandy, not responding. She didn't tell him. Why?
"He misses you. He misses your other brothers too. But he feels like you guys abandoned him."
"Is that why you're here? To try to fix this family?" I arch one brow in question.
"No. I'm here for Nico." She pauses, fidgeting nervously. "If you call off your deal with him, I won't tell anyone what I saw. I'll carry your secret to my grave. No one will ever know what happened that night."
"Why?" I ask.
"Because I love him just as much as you do," she whispers, her voice shaking with emotion. "Because I'd do anything to save him from this world, just like you did. He doesn't belong in this world, Rafe. You know he doesn't."
I take another drink, pain ripping through me. She gambled with her life by coming here, not knowing if I'd kill her or not. But she did it for Nico anyway. She and Amalia are exactly alike. For the people they love, they're willing to risk everything. Unfortunately for me, I just wasn't one of those people for Amalia. She chose her brother. She chose self-preservation. She didn't trust that I could keep her safe. And that's what fucking kills me. She didn't trust me to protect her.
I would have torn this fucking world apart for her…and it wasn't enough.
"Go home, Norah," I say, glancing away.
"No."
"No?"
"Not until I know Nico is safe," she says, digging her heels in. "Leave him alone, Rafe. I'll keep your secret."
Jesus Christ.
"You two are a pair," I mutter, rubbing my forehead. I'm fucking exhausted. "Twelve hours ago, he was here telling me to leave you alone. Only his version of this speech included considerably more threats."
"He's passionate."
I snort. That's one way of putting it.
"If it were you, wouldn't you do whatever you had to do to save the person you love?" she presses, refusing to give up.