Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 151410 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 606(@250wpm)___ 505(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 151410 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 606(@250wpm)___ 505(@300wpm)
My eyes widened in surprise. It was a skateboard necklace, very similar to the one I’d lost.
“You must have left it in New York.”
I swallowed. “Yeah. Everything went so fast…I left it on my nightstand.” I cleared my throat as the events of that night flooded my memories. “I didn’t think you paid attention to my jewelry.”
“It was a strange piece of jewelry, hard not to notice,” he said with a chuckle.
I nodded. Wearing a skateboard around your neck and loving the sport had given me the tomboy stamp, though I loved “girly” things just as much as throwing myself down a halfpipe.
“Eventually the events from that night won’t bother you anymore,” Nevio said.
“Do they bother you?”
Nevio smiled a ghost-smile. “Chaos and destruction run in my veins. I don’t mind bloodshed and fighting.”
“I know,” I said. “But that fight was different. Greta was there. She jumped into the ocean.”
Something dark passed Nevio’s eyes. “Yeah, that put a damper on the night.”
I rubbed my arms. This time the outside chill wasn’t responsible for the shivers raking my body. My heartbeat picked up as I remembered the fear I’d felt that day.
“You are safe in Las Vegas. War won’t reach us here. And remember, I’ll always be there to save the day with a crazy stunt.”
I couldn’t help but smile.
Nevio pushed his hand with the necklace over to me. “Take it. It’s for you if that wasn’t obvious before. I see you trying to grab the thing all the time. You’re obviously attached to inanimate objects.”
I swallowed and took it gingerly. “Why?”
“I don’t know why you’re attached to things. I’m not emotionally attached to jewelry.”
“That’s not what I mean. Why—”
Why did you buy it? This was such a sweet thing to do that my heart wanted to put more meaning into the gesture than it probably deserved.
“I know what you mean.” Nevio shrugged. “It’s odd. You’re not you without it.”
I bit my lip. So he found me odd? “Thanks. That’s really nice of you.”
Nevio clucked his tongue. “Don’t spread any false tales. Nobody will believe you if you say I’m being nice.”
I tilted my head, regarded his face in the dark. “Can you put it on?”
Nevio took the necklace and reached around my neck. Goose bumps rippled across my body when his fingers touched my skin. We stood really close. This was the perfect moment to kiss. It was almost too perfect, like in my fantasies, and really romantic. Nevio dropped his hands and leaned down to my ear. “This is a gift between friends, Rory. Remember the warnings your mother tells you about me. A mother’s instinct rarely lies.”
He stepped back and turned around without another word, stalking away.
I stood there for several minutes dumb founded.
One year later
I wasn’t sure who had first compared me to a black hole who swallowed even the brightest light. Probably Massimo who always knew shit like that and used it to piss me off.
Greta was inherently good. She helped animals, never used violence. Fuck, she didn’t even eat meat, eggs, milk or fucking honey. Honey. Because the poor bees were exploited or something ridiculous like that.
Yet, she’d set a man on fire last night. We’d always been close, but over the last year since Amo had wed that bitch Cressida and war had come down on us, she’d spent even more time with me. She’d often seemed distant but she’d been by my side and I’d taken that as a good sign.
Fuck me. Being around me had obviously finally taken effect. I would have never thought Greta was capable of hurting anyone.
I sat on a chair next to our pool in the twilight of the early morning hours, taking a smoke and trying to understand how my peaceful twin could have burned someone alive. That was something I would do, something I had done. I ran a hand through my hair. I still smelled of smoke and burning flesh. It was one of the smells that was the hardest to get out. It wasn’t my favorite either. I preferred the freshness of blood to the charcoal scent. If I wanted a barbecue, I could throw a few steaks on the grill.
The sound of a window opening drew my attention to the Scuderi mansion. Aurora peeked out of her window and waved at me, her blond hair like a halo in the dark.
Aurora meant light, and like my sister, Aurora was good too. She always asked others how they felt, truly cared about their emotions, and gave me concerned looks when she thought I was hurting, even if that was never the case.
Aurora had sought my closeness. I’d always kept her at a distance, mostly because she’d seemed too young, too innocent for what I had in mind. The last year I’d been busy with war, with Greta, with trying to control my deep need to maim and kill Amo Vitiello so ignoring her crush on me had been easy. But recently I’d caught myself thinking about Aurora, even fucking dreaming about her. About her smile. About how she threw herself down the half pipe. About how she made even dungarees seem like a valid fashion option.