Page 47 of Last Breath (Blood Wine Dynasty #2)

Nella

‘What do you mean you can’t do this ? Seems like all the mechanics are working just fine.’ She nudged the hard ridge between his thighs with her knee. To his credit, he didn’t wince.

Jett pushed himself back into a sitting position in the passenger seat.

Doing this in the car had seemed erotic and spontaneous a minute ago but now she felt like a ditzy high schooler about to lose her virginity after two sips of a goon bag.

She sat up too and scrunched her knees under her chin, her jaw clenched against the words burning on her tongue.

Don’t you fucking dare say this is a mistake.

‘This is a mistake.’

She made a sound like hargh! into her knee, her teeth scraping against the skin.

He stared at his hands. ‘You’re just doing this because you’re upset, because of the recipe.’

‘And what’s wrong with that? You seemed perfectly happy to go along with it five seconds ago.

’ She could tell him he was wrong. That she’d been acting on real feelings, on real emotion that had been stirring long before they’d made the discovery on Isola San Giulio.

But then she’d have to admit she was exactly as stupid as he thought she was.

Na?ve.

Still a little girl. The spoiled, rich little girl he worked for.

He’d never actually take her seriously. She’d made too many mistakes around Jett – he’d seen her at her absolute, most humiliating worst. You couldn’t come back from that.

He would never see her as anything more than the selfish, annoying kid he drove around.

She could see it in his eyes now as he looked at her in the dull light from a streetlamp.

Her father had been right. Maybe she should have listened to him.

Maybe he’d known more than he’d let on about Nonno Emilio and the wine recipe.

Maybe his anger at her independence was rooted in his fear that he’d have one less soldier standing in front of him when the La Marcas fired this inevitable bullet.

There was a dark little voice in her head that had been whispering ever since she’d entered the yellow house on Isola San Giulio.

Would it really be so bad if it all went away? If we lost the case? Then I wouldn’t need my challenges, no more screening people for fakeness or ulterior motives. We’d all be mortal once again. I could live a normal life .

The voice had winged eyeliner and a desire for expensive cigarettes it didn’t like but smoked anyway. It was her back in her uni days, when pissing off Giovanni was the subject she majored in.

She could run away. She could say it now. She could go with him. They could run together. Maybe then he’d finally be able to get rid of his tattoo. He’d see what she saw when she looked at him. He’d see that he wasn’t just someone who could fade away without leaving a mark. A scar.

If she asked to go with him, what would he say?

‘You’ll regret it.’ He passed over her shirt, their eyes not meeting. ‘You might not see it now, but you will.’

‘You mean when you’re gone and I’m alone again?’ Visions of their silhouettes darting like thieves into the night evaporated as reality slid back over her skin along with cool cotton.

‘You’ll never be alone – you’ve got your family. You’ve got Eliza, Daisy, Ian, Pearl.’

‘They don’t ...’ She caught herself; she could not humiliate herself any more than she already had. They don’t know me. They don’t see me. Not completely .

‘Your family needs you now.’

‘Save me the Ted Talk. You don’t have to make up some bullshit, altruistic excuse. If you don’t want—’

‘It’s not an excuse, Nella, I—’

‘You what? You don’t want to be my friend because of this ... thing between us? You don’t want to fuck me because you’ll feel guilty for taking advantage when you’re leaving anyway? It’s all about what you’re doing to me – taking advantage, you’ll regret it . What about what I want?’

‘What do you want?’

Nella threw up a hand. ‘I want to be your friend! I don’t want you to think of the past fifteen years as some random job you had in another lifetime. I want you to miss us. I want you to come back and visit. I want you to ... I want to matter!’

She was beyond feeling shame as fresh tears spilled out with the wail in her voice.

‘Of course you matter.’ He was the calm voice of reason to her squalling hysteria. ‘But I meant what I said when you asked me years ago. It’s impossible for me to be your friend in any real sense of the word.’

‘So you’re leaving.’

‘It’s complicated ... I can’t ... Nella.’ He pulled her close to him so that her head rested on his chest and pressed his lips into her hair.

This thing between them wasn’t enough to get him to stay.

If anything, it was pushing him away. Whatever misguided feelings of attraction he’d just admitted to would pass.

All they had to do was forget about this, forget this feeling, and then she could change his mind.

They could be friends. Because the thought of not having Jett in her life was like cutting out an organ.

She could be his friend, of course she could.

This was it, wasn’t it? The catch? Her privilege tax. She had so much she didn’t need, didn’t want – and not ever being able to have Jett completely was her price to pay.

Friends.

It had to be enough.

Her vision blurred as her heart ticked away in time to the flashing blue light of the dash cam.

It’s only for people who care about their cars.

Something dislodged in her brain. A dark Bindi Bindi road, Jett’s smell enveloping her.

Forrest Valentine’s grin.

‘My dash cam backs up the footage for months. It’ll have the whole conversation since you tried to play roadkill.’

Max was right. DNA was too risky. But video footage – that was something even the La Marca lawyers wouldn’t be able to get thrown out.

‘I know how to get the evidence for Max.’

If Jett was surprised at her sudden subject change, he didn’t show it.

He listened without interrupting as she explained.

By the time her plan was formed, their breathing was almost back to normal.

When he reached over, all that progress disintegrated and her body tightened in anticipation. But he didn’t touch her.

‘Give me your phone.’ He took out his own. Still no case. He took her iPhone with her hot pink case and scrolled and tapped while she tried to force her heart to beat again without a defibrillator. ‘Look – so you can always see where I am.’ He flicked the screen up, showing Find My iPhone.

Pathetic, teenage hope shot through her before she had a chance to stifle it. The kindness of the gesture made it more unbearable. ‘Does it come with an inbuilt cattle prod so I can shock you when you’re driving some other rich girl around?’

‘I’m going to work with delinquent teenagers up north,’ he said. ‘I’ve had enough of driving rich girls around to last me a lifetime.’ He passed her phone back, still warm from his hand.

Back in her room, Nella took out the letter she’d typed out for Ariana La Marca. She highlighted the whole text and deleted it.

No more lies. Time for the truth.

Then, cursor blinking to the beat of her thumping heart, she started to type again.