Page 2 of Die for You (Kiss or Kill #2)

FIVE YEARS AGO

I’ve been here a week.

I’ve slept like the dead for six of those days.

My body and mind were beyond fatigued. Every time I woke, I remembered where I was and why I was here. My soul slipped into self-preservation mode and retreated into the darkness, where I could forget.

Today is day seven.

It’s the first day I have been able to get out of bed longer than to use the bathroom and grab a drink of water. The house is huge. I haven’t even explored a quarter of it, but I guess time is on my side because that’s all I have.

I’m here because I can never go back to America.

I knew the consequences of my actions when I ended that piece of shit’s life. However, the crime of killing Father Merry is worth the punishment because, given the choice again, I would make the same one.

Gianna put me on a plane, and when I arrived in Sicily, a driver was waiting for me at the airport.

We didn’t speak.

He simply grabbed my duffel and drove me here.

There are no phones.

No internet.

I don’t even see a car.

I am totally off-grid, and I know that’s with intent.

It’s safer this way.

Gianna and I know that the fewer people who know of my arrival, the better it is, for now, anyway. Because it’s expected of me to take over where Gianna cannot. She’s hunted here, thanks to Aldo. That bastard deserves the fate he got.

Gianna trusts me to look after the family business here. I will ensure that I don’t let her down.

As I peer over the balcony while sipping my espresso, I can’t help but think that life is a roller coaster. I have done some god-awful things. I have killed and enjoyed doing it. And I know I will kill again. The things done to me in my past don’t excuse my behavior.

But perhaps there is a God, after all, and this home, this serenity, is my compensation as such for what I endured. Whatever the reason, I don’t question it because, for the first time, I feel at peace.

Father Merry is dead.

Gianna is finally free of Aldo.

And I am safe.

There is only one thing missing.

And that’s Lennon.

Our last exchange confirmed that we are now enemies, and this time, it’s for good. We fight on opposing teams, and I don’t think we will ever be on the same side. I wish it were different because being apart from Lenny, I miss him so much.

He’s been a significant part of my life, and regardless of my faults, he has always been there for me.

But not this time.

I am truly on my own.

Well, that’s not entirely true when I hear a dog barking in the distance. The noise grows louder until who that bark belongs to ends up in my back garden.

A black-and-white dog runs around the olive groves like he owns the place. He’s clearly been here before.

I quickly make my way down the stairs and out through the kitchen. The moment he sees me, he comes running toward me, his pink tongue lolling from the corner of his mouth.

“Hey, boy,” I coo as I crouch.

The dog crashes into my arms, licking my face excitedly.

“Who do you belong to?” I ask, unable to contain my amusement.

It almost feels foreign to laugh.

“Are you hungry?”

He barks happily.

Just as I stand, I hear a branch snap. On instinct, I turn and throat punch the young man behind me. He clutches his throat, gasping for air. I’m about to poke out his eye when the dog runs over to the man and anxiously circles him, ensuring he’s all right.

It’s apparent this man is the dog’s owner, and I just throat punched him.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry,” I say, trying to help him. He waves me off, backing away as he gasps for air.

Not that I can blame him. I did just attack him.

“You shouldn’t trespass.” I try to reason that my actions aren’t totally unhinged. But to keep a low profile, I can’t be punching people in the throat.

Note to self…

A string of Sicilian leaves him when he eventually gets the air back to his lungs. I have no clue what he’s saying, but it’s evident he doesn’t mean any harm.

“No Sicilian,” I say with a smile.

Although I know Italian, the Sicilian dialect is foreign to me.

“No English,” he replies with a thick accent.

Whether I’m lonely, or maybe the company is a distraction from the thoughts in my head, I make a hand gesture asking if he would like a drink.

He nods and waits for me to lead the way, seeing as I just attacked him. I doubt he wants a repeat performance of that. So I turn and walk up the stairs. The steps are hot, and it’s only now that I realize what I’m wearing, and it’s not much.

Sleep shorts and a tank. And that’s all. No underwear. No shoes. And my hair is a snarled mess. Not that it matters. I don’t plan on seeing him ever again.

I look around the large kitchen, wondering where the glasses are kept. I’ve been drinking straight from the tap, which is uncouth. I suppose I should try to act semi-human if I’m to oversee Gianna’s business.

I open and close the cupboards, hunting for glassware. I eventually find them and open the fridge, and I’m surprised to find it stocked with food and drinks. No doubt, Gianna’s doing.

Even thousands of miles away, she’s still looking after me.

I reach for the bottle of juice and pour us each a glass. I offer it to him and only just realize how tall he is. And how blue his eyes are. They contrast with his black hair. His handsome face is chiseled and covered in a five-o’clock shadow, which emphasizes the cleft in his chin.

He appears a little older than me. Maybe twenty-two. Not that it matters, but why am I suddenly wondering what his name is?

He sips his juice, watching me over the rim of his glass.

It’s quite comfortable being in his presence. There is no pressure to talk, seeing as we don’t understand each other.

“ Mi chiamo Nico .”

“I’m Valentina. What’s your dog’s name?”

He arches a dark brow, clearly not understanding me.

I reach for a white bowl and pour some water into it, then place it on the floor for the dog. Nico understands when I point at the thirsty K-9.

“ Lupo .”

I smile as I pat the dog’s scruffy head. “Hi, Lupo.”

He barks in response.

Nico finishes his juice and places the empty glass in the sink. “ Grazie .”

“ Prego .”

Nico’s eyes widen, but I wave him off with a smile. “I know Italian. Sicilian, not so much.”

He nods politely, oblivious to what I said. But I like it. I like that we don’t understand each other. We merely coexist with no burden of making small talk.

I do wonder what his backstory is.

I wonder how long he’s lived here and if he or his family knows of Gianna.

The thought of knowing more about Gianna is tempting because she’s still as much of a mystery now as she was when I first met her. But it also feels like a betrayal of her trust.

Lenny’s judgmental voice sounds in my head. “Why are you so loyal to her?”

Truth be told, I don’t know.

She saved us when no one else did, when no one would take a chance on two misfits like Lenny and me. She protected us and showed us affection in the best way she could. I accepted that she isn’t someone who shows love the way most do.

But her actions prove she cares.

If she didn’t, I wouldn’t be here.

What I did was my choice, and it was a stupid choice at that.

But I couldn’t stop myself.

I was sick of waiting.

I was sick of being weak.

I was sick of my childhood memories controlling me.

Yes, I am now a fugitive on the run, but ironically, I have never felt freer than I do right now.

No one knows who I am.

Or what I’ve done.

“You can’t run away from who you are.”

It seems my father’s voice follows me wherever I go. A part of me begins to fantasize about what it would be like to start over in a place where I am no one. I started my life this way and wanted more, but now I somehow want that simplicity once again.

I could be like everyone else and blend into a society I’ve never been a part of. I could get a nine-to-five job. I could gossip to my girlfriends about my loving boyfriend, whose name is Tom, and our three Bengal cats.

I could be normal.

“Who are you fooling? You can never be normal.”

He knows me better than I know myself, and the reason for that is because he is me. Perhaps, I don’t hear my father, but rather, it’s my own conscience.

Memories of Father Merry’s mutilated corpse hanging from the crucifix flash before my eyes, confirming what I know to be true—I can never be normal, and honestly, I don’t want to be.

Things here are slow-moving, and eventually, I will get bored. Thoughts of a normal life make me want to vomit, and I can’t help but want to set something on fire for something to do.

I’m so messed up. And the only person who loved me and accepted me, flaws and all, is a billion miles away.

My heart aches.

I miss him.

I miss him so fucking much it hurts.

I’m homesick. Rather, I’m Lenny-sick because he is my home.

Toying with the black crystal around my neck, which hangs from the necklace Lenny gave me for my birthday, I realize that I don’t know what it feels like to live life without Lenny. Although we argued half the time, I knew he’d always be on my side…until I left.

I have no doubt he meant his parting words.And the next time we see one another, one of us will be gravely hurt.

I don’t know how I got here, but this is my life now. I have no one, and I’ve learned it’s better this way.

Nico says something and leaves, taking Lupo, not that I blame him. I’m hardly any company.

I wonder about Cat. Did he perish in the fire? He was my only friend, and I couldn’t even protect him.

I truly am alone, and for the sins I’ve committed, I deserve the solitude. So I accept my fate.

I am no one…once again.