Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 76309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
But he laughs, shaking his head. “Wow, you really bit on that one. I’m kidding about the screaming part. The voices mostly whisper.” He winks.
I roll my eyes. “Ha, joke about mental health, hilarious.”
“I’m only saying you’ve done a lot of work already. You identified why the fingers bother you so much. You even understand that it’s an irrational response. Now you can take away that memory’s power.”
“Easy for you to say. Can’t we just sit here in quiet? You can keep rubbing my feet if that helps. I don’t mind.”
“I bet you don’t.” He stops though. The bastard. “Take a deep breath. Let it out.”
I clench my jaw. I want to kick him in the face. But if it’ll speed this up, I reluctantly do as he asks.
He walks me through a breathing exercise. One after the other until I’m feeling strangely calm. I thought this whole thing was bullshit, but it’s actually working. I lean my head against the armrest, eyes fluttering open and shut. He rubs my feet again.
“A few years back in Europe, I met this ex-special forces guy. He taught me all those.” Lanzo doesn’t look at me when I peer down at him. “We were hired to take down this nest of Iranian spies. He was a good man, smart, strong.”
“What happened to him?” I ask, knowing it’s the wrong question, but I can’t help myself.
“Died,” he says with a shrug. “Shot in a raid. I carried guilt over him for a while until I accepted it wasn’t my fault. He went in too hard, didn’t check a corner, and died. There are a lot of deaths like that in my past. People that are gone, but I still carry them.”
“Must be hard,” I say softly, feeling foolish at the scale of my problems. But pain doesn’t always need to be measured against other pain.
“I’ve learned how to cope. Meditation, breathing exercises. Facing my memories head-on. Fighting against them. I don’t let the past hold too much power over me, but I also don’t forget it. That’s the trick.”
I glance away. “Must be nice to feel so self-actualized.”
“I’d rather be a hot mess like you. Then there’d be fewer bodies in my wake.”
I smile, shaking my head. “I’ll accept the hot part of that, but I had my life together before you came strolling into it.”
“Did you? I seem to recall a defiant girl standing in front of a corpse burrito.”
“That was a low point.”
He releases my feet, leaning over toward me. I look at him, think about pushing him back, but I don’t. He pins me onto the couch, his heavy body like the crust of the earth buried on top of me. His lips find my neck, kissing gently.
“You can handle this. I promise, you can.”
“What if you’re wrong? What if I start hearing voices in my head? What if I run away screaming at the top of my lungs?”
“I’ll have you committed,” he murmurs, kissing closer to my mouth.
I wiggle my hips as my nipples stiffen. God, what is wrong with me? The memory of those severed fingers is still fresh, but this man has the ability to arouse me like it’s nothing. And to be honest, I’d rather let him fuck me than think about this horrible night.
“So long as I’m locked up somewhere you can’t get to me, I’m game.”
He chuckles, bites my lower lip, and pulls back to stare into my eyes. “You can do this, Renata.”
“I’m glad you have so much faith in me.”
“You should have more faith in yourself.” He kisses me, slow and deep. For a second, his voice echoes in my brain. More faith in yourself. He’s not wrong—I’ve always seen myself as barely holding on. Taking care of Grandpop has been my entire existence for a while now. I barely know anything else.
Until Lanzo. Until his lips against mine.
I give myself over to the moment. Let myself sink into his kiss. His hands roam, his fingers grip my hips.
My clothes end up in a pile on the floor.
He’s between my legs, licking me, making these filthy, sultry noises.
His lips and tongue lap my pussy. I pull his hair, pull it tight, push my hips against his mouth.
I want him to hurt me and I want him to make me come.
I can lose myself in him. His lips are a thousand times more effective than the strongest alcohol at dulling my pain.
“Let go,” he whispers, not talking about my fingers in his hair. “Let go, lovely Ren. Let go and let me taste you, lovely girl. Beautiful girl. So fucking strong and clever. Let go.”
I breathe hard, saying his name as I come against his mouth.
Chapter 20
Lanzo
It takes all of twenty minutes to figure out exactly who Craig Hicks is.
I’m sitting in bed naked while Renata sleeps beside me. Every few minutes, I stroke her hair. She stirs, mumbling to herself, but doesn’t wake, her breathing nice and even. I can’t bring myself to move. Not with her so close. The urge to stay here next to her is overwhelming, a feeling I’ve never experienced before. The raw need. Like a wound that won’t close.