Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 85490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
And to be fair, I haven’t given her much time lately. “I liked the last one.” I walk past her and head up into the kitchen. She follows, drifting after, and accepts a cold glass of wine when I pour.
“I’m not sure how to say this nicely, so I’m just going to say it. That’s not really like you.” Elena takes a long drink and smiles. “It’s good, but you and good don’t usually mix.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “I’m allowed to change my mind about some things.”
“I know that, and don’t get me wrong. I’m really happy you’re doing this. I’m just… trying to understand.”
I look away and bury my discomfort with wine. How am I supposed to explain to her that I met a man in a mask and let him finger-fuck me on a ledge until I had the best orgasm of my life? Oh, and we’re playing some weird game where my life’s in his hands and it’s the most erotic and exciting experience I’ve ever had? She already thinks I’m fucked up—for good reason, I did threaten to murder Davide’s wife at least once or twice—but this’ll just make her institutionalize me.
“I got a taste for what it’s like to have a life outside of this house.” I decide to go with a half-truth. “And I wanted to do it again.”
“That’s great.” The relief in her tone makes me feel guilty as hell. “I know you’ve struggled over the years, after what happened—”
I give her a sharp look. “That was a long time ago. I was a teenager.”
“I know, I know, but I mean—” She hesitates, choosing her words carefully. “I’m not sure you ever dealt with it. Not really.”
“I went to therapy.” A lot of therapy, actually, but I don’t say that part. I spent half my life talking to counselors, doctors, psychiatrists, anyone else who might be able to make me more normal. None of it worked. I only kept sinking into my own world.
“Right, but don’t you think it means something that you keep making human body parts? Fingers, hands, tongues, eyes…”
I forgot about my eyeball phase. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
She nods and holds up her hands. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have brought it up. I’m just saying, I’m really happy you’re doing this, that’s all.”
“Great. You’re happy. I’m happy. Can I get back to work?”
Elena sighs and finishes her wine. “I’m also concerned.”
“Of course you are.”
“It’s just so sudden, that’s all.” Elena chews her lip, and I can tell she wants to say more, but I speak up first.
“Can you just let this be good? Can you try not to look into it? You don’t have to always help me, you know.” I know that goes against her nature. I sculpt weird body parts, and Elena tries to take care of the people she cares about. That’s just who she is.
But in this instance, I don’t want her getting too close. Because if she does, she might unmask my little secret, and I’m not ready for him to be public knowledge.
Jackal is mine, and mine alone. That’s what gives him so much power.
Elena reluctantly agrees, and I even suck it up and give her a hug. That makes her happy enough to leave me alone.
I hesitate before heading back down to the basement. I love my sister, even if sometimes I don’t know how to properly show it. I want to make her happy, and I want to live up to her expectations. But how would she react if she understood what I’ve been doing? Getting involved with a masked man like Jackal is incredibly dangerous, especially considering who I am.
There are people in this city who would gladly use me to get closer to the Famiglia.
And plenty more who would happily slit my throat to make my siblings suffer.
But for some reason, neither of those thoughts bother me. If anything, they make this whole situation more exciting.
I guess that proves I’m still very much fucked in the head, and all that therapy didn’t do a whole lot.
I head downstairs to sculpt.
And I keep sculpting for two weeks straight.
There are breaks. Bathroom, food, sleep, the usual human needs. But Angelo says we’re having a show in two months, and that means I need to be ready. I throw myself into work, and I don’t even notice it when time slips past. The list of hackers remains on my workbench, and I haven’t been able to bring myself to open the folder.
I’ll figure him out. He’s in there, no doubt in my mind. My family has very impressive dossiers on anyone with talent in this city, and if the Jackal’s able to take out Cage’s security, there’s no doubt my brothers know about him.
Between that, and the description the hostess gave me, I’ll recognize him somewhere in that file.