Chapter 180

After a few long minutes of Frankie quietly stroking my back while I cry myself out, I lift up my head and sniff, breathing easier, still not okay but…pulling myself back together.

“How are you feeling?” he asks quietly, loosening his arms so I can stand up straighter as I sniff.

“Um,” I say, raising my eyes to his. “I threw up.”

He smirks a little, but then fights it.

And I can’t help it as a little tremulous smile finds my mouth.

“You threw up?” he asks, pitying me but also…I don’t know, maybe just keeping his spirts high for my sake?

I nod and give a little shrug.

He breaks eye contact with me and then peers around the room. “…where?”

“On the other side of the bed,” I sigh, gesturing towards it.

“Oh geeze,” he says with a sigh, taking a step away from me but keeping one hand on my arm. “Come on, Bambs. Let’s get you cleaned up. You’ll feel better – and clearer headed – when you’re cleaned up.”

“Okay,” I say, not knowing what else to do and perfectly happy to let him take charge. As quiet and gentle as he can be, Frankie leads me into the bathroom and turns on the elaborate shower. I stand quietly as the water starts to fall, as steam starts to echo off the tiled floor. Then he gestures towards it and starts for the door.

His name slips out of my mouth, hushed and frightened.

He stops in his tracks, turning to me, instant.

“You’re…going?” I ask quietly.

“I’m going to be standing against the wall right outside that door, Iris,” Frankie says, putting his hands on his hips. “It was…a mistake to leave you alone. I mean, I told them that, but…” he sighs, dropping his head to his hand for a second, shaking it. “But whatever. I’m not leaving, okay? I promise. I will be two feet away. You can even talk to me, if you want, while you’re in there.”

I exhale a long breath, relieved. “Okay,” I say quietly, trusting him completely. Then as he steps out of the room I slowly start to peel Christian’s soaked t-shirt and basketball shorts off, shuddering in horror as I drop them to the floor and step into the shower.

I just stand there for a long time as the water runs over my body, watching the blood flow off of me in long red drops, spiraling towards the drain in the center of the floor. I stand and watch until the water runs clear, and then I exhale a long breath, letting my eyes shut, finally feeling…real again. Feeling like I exist.

And as my mind begins to turn, finding the energy to consider the events, I find my mind not turning to the scene of horror this morning – of Elio’s dead body falling on top of mine, his life’s blood spreading all over me, his dead eyes looking directly into my face –

No, I think about my husband.

Christian Romano, mafia boss.

A man who killed his father, and now three of his four brothers.

A man who has seized power in the most brutal way possible. And all…all for what? I exhale again, shaking my head, not sure that I understand. Understand his reasoning for doing this but also…understand him, perhaps.

My mind begins flicking through everything I know about Christian – everything I can hold onto for sure. What he looks like – the sound of his laugh – the very specific way his blue-grey eyes crinkle when he’s happy.

The way his body feels pressed to mine, the way he kisses me.

And while I certainly do not understand this world in which he operates, a major player now…I understand that he loves me. Really, really loves me.

I mean, he’s got the body count to prove it, doesn’t he?

I go rigid at this thought, still staring down at the drain, realizing that…that’s true.

And suddenly my mind flicks through all the men who have died…so that Christian can protect me.

Elio, obviously, with a knife slicing open his throat for daring to touch me.

And then further back – his father, Tony, and Lorenzo – with Frankie’s bullets in their heads at Christian’s order. And perhaps these deaths were not completely for threatening my safety, but at least in part, under the full knowledge that they were coming after us – that they wouldn’t let us live.

And then further back…to Edward Marino, his skull crushed in with a tire iron in Christian’s hand. I shake my head, hardly believing that I…that I forgot about that, honestly, until right now.

Forgot about a man dying because he dared to touch me, to threaten me.

And then…

I press my eyes shut, losing all my breath, my hands starting to shake as I remember…

Remember the first one.

Christian and I – just children - standing at the bottom of my mother’s stairs, looking down at a corpse.

The man who raised me. The man who beat me. The man whose genetic code I carry but…who never loved me, was never going to let us live in peace.

I haven’t regretted my father’s death a single day since he was gone.

But my stomach twists vividly now as I remember the way that Christian had reached out for my hand in that moment, had held it tight in his, and had whispered without looking at me. “When the cops come…we’ll tell them it was an accident. That he just fell.”

And I had nodded, and tucked the memory carefully away.

And never told anyone. Not even my mother. Not even my brother.

That first death, that tied us together. The first time Christian took a man’s life for daring to threaten mine.

And as I open my eyes and stare again at the drain, at the water falling down into the dark holes…I realize that Elio will not be the last.

No, that Christian will keep doing this – will keep taking lives for me. Because he loves me. Because it’s what he knows how to do. Either…through instinct, or his blood, or…I don’t know.

But I do know he won’t stop.

And even though I don’t miss a single one of the men who he killed for my sake…I know that I can’t be part of this cycle. Not anymore.

That I…I have to go.

Suddenly decided, I reach out and take the shower’s controls in my hand, turning it suddenly off. And then, quite calm, I step out of the shower dripping wet and reach for a towel. I don’t bother to dry myself off at all – I just wrap it around myself, for decency’s sake more than anything else.

Then, one fist around the towel at my chest, I turn towards the open door and quietly walk out of it.

As he said, Frankie’s there, leaning against the wall, his head hanging down. He lifts it as I appear in the doorway, his eyes immediately meeting mine.

“You better?” he asks, holding my gaze steadily.

“No,” I say quietly.

“What?” he asks, pushing up off the wall and standing straight, clearly worried. “What’s wrong?”

“Sharkbait, Frankie,” I say quietly, my eyes locked on his.

He goes perfectly still.

“Sharkbait,” I say again, giving a single nod. But when he doesn’t move, I suddenly wonder if maybe he…he forgot. “Do you know what that means?”

“I know what that means,” he snaps immediately, staring at me. And then he moves all at once, stepping closer to me and taking my shoulders in his hands. “Do you know what you’re asking right now, Iris?”

“Yes,” I say, looking seriously up into his eyes. “I know Frankie.”

He stares at me, loosing a long shaky breath. “There’s…there’s no going back, Iris.”

“I know, Frank,” I say quietly, raising a hand and cupping his cheek, apology in my eyes to ask this of him. And then I beg him, in the most serious way I know how. “Please,” I whisper. “Please take me out of here.”

Frankie stares at me for one second longer before he reaches up to take my hand in his. And then he exhales a long, slow breath.

And nods.