Page 124 of Bitter Poetry

My thoughts are spiraling. I’m not blameless here. I’ve let Ettore hurt her and done nothing. As for tonight, this is my fault, too. I should have been in the house.

Ettore is going to be out for my blood, too, and I don’t fucking blame him.

A fresh deluge of guilt drags me down, almost bringing me to my knees.

Roman’s radio crackles, and he lifts it to his ear. I lost my earpiece somewhere in the fray, so I don’t have a clue what’s going on.

The shower is still running behind me. I can hear Carmela crying.

The sound is fucking me up.

“The doctor just pulled in the gate. The don is on his way. You’re wanted downstairs.”

I nod. It takes another beat before my feet will move.

CHAPTER 37

CARMELA

The wild hysterics give way to numbness. I’m still shaking uncontrollably as I get out of the shower and let Lillete help me into a robe.

I start to hyperventilate the moment I step out of the bathroom and realize Christian has gone.

I want Christian.

“Carmela?”

This isn’t only about tonight.

It’s about all the other nights and times Ettore put his hands on me.

So many times.

“Carmela?” I can hear the stress in her voice.

My chest starts to saw again. “I can’t do this anymore.” I can’t let Ettore touch me again. We all have a limit, and Cosmo has just delivered me to mine.

“What can I do?” Lillette asks. “How can I help?”

I blink furiously.

“The doctor is here. You must be in pain. Will you let her see you?”

Doctor?

Pain?

The words wake me up. I feel inexplicably heavy.

“I need to sit down.”

We’re next to the bed. I don’t have a clue how I came to be here, and I sink heavily onto it.

A knock sounds on the door.

“It’s the doctor,” Lillette says. “Can I let her in?”

She’s asking me if she can, if I want to.