Page 37 of Light in Your Eyes (Romero Brothers #1)

I ponder in thought. “Not necessarily. But there’s a possibility.” I go silent for a moment before I finally speak again. "Speaking about the guy who stabbed me, his name is Marco."

A gasp leaves her mouth, and it confirms my assumption that she knows him. Irritation builds up inside me, but I’m trying my best to compose myself.

"What?" she whispers in disbelief. Her hand touching my shoulder shakes, and she pulls away.

I can feel her sinking to the bathroom floor. She leans her head against the edge of the bathtub, and my fingers brush her hair gently.

"What happened?" I whisper, not wanting to make her even more upset than she is now. "Talk to me."

Layla breathes, and it’s shaky. I hate it when she’s hurt. I feel her straighten up and focus her attention on me again.

“I don’t know. It’s just — " She chokes, her voice laced with confusion. "I never thought that he would react like that. I should have made him understand better. Maybe I should have voiced my argument more properly. I should have talked to him again after I objected — "

"What do you mean?" Urgency is evident in my voice. I become restless, afraid that he might have done something terrible to her. "Did he force you to do something you didn’t want? Did he hurt you?" I hiss venomously.

"No, it’s not like that," Layla quickly says.

"It’s just..." She takes a deep breath, and the seconds that pass after that are so excruciating for me.

"He actually cares about me. He didn’t harass or bully me like the other members did.

He even saved me from Luca once. He was shoved into Black Wings while he was only looking for his brother, and I felt like he was one of the few people here who truly understood how I felt.

But lately, he became aggressive in approaching me, especially after he was assigned to a mission. I just — "

She lets out another shaky breath, sounding like she’s about to cry.

"I don’t know what made him attack you like that.

He shouldn’t have done that. I feel bad for him because I know what kind of person he used to be, but on the other hand, I’m livid that he attacked you.

Oh, God." Her voice is shaking, and she sounds like she’s covering her mouth with her hands.

"If something even worse happened to you, I don’t think…

" she stutters. "I don’t think that I’ll ever forgive him. ”

I pull Layla into my chest, and she arches her spine, circling her arm around my neck.

When I close my eyes, my mind is filled with the words Marco shouted at me, that she’s too good for me and that I may not be able to protect her without my sight. My biggest fear is failing to protect her.

But I have to keep my restlessness away now. There’s something I have to do about Marco. I know for sure that if his punishment is executed to death, Layla will be heartbroken.

"You don’t have to worry about him," I say.

She moves her head, and I can imagine her looking up at me with wonder .

"I’ll talk to him." I say. "He’ll live, but he’ll be out of Black Wings."

***

I make my way down into Black Wings jail with the thought of Layla still lingering in my head. The jail is located in the basement but lower level compared to where the boxing ring is placed.

The guys guarding the doors to the prisoner cells are already expecting me. One of them leads the way for me.

I'm glad that Layla is not here with me to go to the cell.

It's not only because of my fear that Marco isn't in a proper emotional state to talk to her but also because this jail is not a good place for her.

There are not many prisoners down here — most of our traitors were usually killed as soon as possible — but even though it's only a few of them here, their states are not for Layla's eyes.

While I'm walking through the hallway between the cells, I can hear one prisoner scream in agony through the torture and the other one beg for forgiveness repeatedly.

The prisoners left in our jail are the ones who get punished with slow and tortured death.

The way they die depends on their sins and the extent of betrayal they committed.

Those two prisoners were taken because of Fenrir's order. Jaxon, Cole, Levi, and I didn't put people in our jail. The three of them were busy with way more important missions while I basically didn't care about our members, not until Layla came and turned my world upside down.

I specifically gave an order to not touch Marco until I speak to him, so he should be doing fine. The answer should greet me when I finally stop in front of his cell.

"He's doing fine," the guard tells me, knowing that I can't fucking see whether it's dark or not. "His ankle is chained, but even in the dark, I can see that he's doing okay."

I nod, but then the guard makes an abrupt movement toward the cell, and the alarm in my head suddenly rings.

"Wait." His voice is filled with fear. "He can't be... Oh my God."

My heart is beating fast when he quickly unlocks the cell.

"Fuck," he curses. "Fuck."

"What the fuck is happening?" I ask impatiently.

"I thought that he was fine, until I saw the saliva dripping from his mouth."

I step closer to the cell, and a horrible feeling stirs inside me.

The guard moves, sounding like he's trying to find Marco's pulse. "Shit. He's gone."

"How the fuck did that happen?" I boom, so loudly I'm sure that the entire prison can hear me.

"I don't know." He pants, sounding as panicked as I am. "Maybe he assumed that he was going to be punished a slow and painful death for his betrayal. I swear, he was still alive the last time I checked him."

My heart sinks so low.

Marco must have thought that drinking poison would be a better way to die than being tortured slowly and painfully. He didn't know that I wasn't going to do that to him.

What frustrates me even more is the fact that he got to drink the poison. He wasn’t supposed to take anything with him when they put him into the cell. The jail entrance is also guarded, so no one could come to visit him.

The only gap I can think of is the time when he had to have his meal. The food was brought here from the kitchen, and someone must have poisoned it before it was delivered.

My anger consumes me to the core. I feel like I'm going to explode.

"I'm sorry," the guard stutters. "I didn't know that he was going to kill himself. I should have told him that you meant no harm, but I wasn't even sure what you were going to do to him when you saw him again. He stabbed you. You are our king — "

"Enough." I grit my teeth.

"I should probably get the doctor," he stutters again. " I checked him, but I can't be sure. I'll go get the doctor now."

I hear him running back toward the exit while I'm trying to figure out what to do. I just can't imagine what Layla would feel if she knew about this.

"Fuck." I punch the ground of the cell with my fist, not caring that my knuckles bleed.

I stand up and make my way out of the prison. I stumble a few times because I’m not familiar enough with the corridor. When I almost reach the end of it, I hear a ruckus.

"What do you mean that he's dead?" someone snaps, his voice holding so much fear. "My brother is still alive."

I remember hearing this voice before, inside the boxing ring, after Marco stabbed me with the knife. Apparently, it's his brother. He sounds even more panicked now than the last time I heard his voice.

"It's a suicide," the guard says with guilt present in his voice. "He poisoned himself."

"What?" the brother's voice breaks, and I can almost feel his pain.

"He what?" another voice echoes, and my breath catches in my throat.

I know who this voice belongs to.

"Layla," I whisper in disbelief.

I told her not to come with me, but she must have followed me because of her worry.

Before I can proceed to make my presence known to all of them, Marco's brother hisses, "You filthy bitch. It's because of you that he died."

I stride with anger boiling my blood.

"No." Layla sounds like she's bursting into tears.

"You fucking manipulator." Marco's brother sounds like he wants to kill her. "You'll fucking pay for this one, you — "

I grab him before he can finish his sentence. I wrap my fingers around his throat, putting pressure with my tight grip. "Watch your mouth," I hiss. "Do not speak to her like that."

It takes everything in me to not choke him. The only thing saving him from my wrath is the fact that his brother just died. I can understand his anger because I have a brother too. I don't know what I will do if the same thing happens to Jackson.

I loosen my grip on him and let him go. He pants heavily, but he doesn't say anything back.

The sound of Layla's footsteps rushing outside makes me snap around. Worry consumes me when I follow the sound of her shoes stomping on the ground.

"Layla," I shout. "Wait."

But she doesn't listen to me. She keeps running, and I keep chasing her like my life depends on it. The direction she goes in lets me know that we're heading toward the ground floor.

I'm sure that we reach the backyard when I feel the afternoon breeze blowing through my skin and the rays of sun touching my face. I follow Layla until I hear the sound of water from the fountain.

Her footsteps stop, and I know from the sound of her knees dropping to the ground that she's crying in front of the fountain with her head lying on the edge of it.

I freeze on the spot. Hearing her cries again petrifies me. Her sobs break, and my heart shatters even more. My hands are shaking at my sides because I feel like falling apart too.

"It's my fault," she whispers heartbrokenly. "He died, and it's because of me."

"No," I say firmly.

My voice is also shaking because of the pain I feel for her. I engulf her in a tight embrace from behind. "Please don't say that," I rasp.

I feel her tears on my skin when our cheeks touch. I can taste her tears, and it's not only on my lips but also in my heart. It tastes like a bitter punishment.

"It was never your fault," I say, swallowing a lump in my throat.

If it's anyone's fault, it's mine.

If I hadn't been an ass in the beginning, she wouldn't have sought comfort in anyone else.

If I had been a great man and leader who could protect my fighters, he wouldn't have doubted me and thought of me as a horrible human being.

If I hadn't been blind, he might have believed that I could protect her.

Layla keeps crying in my arms while I keep hugging her from behind. The mixture of the sound of her crying and the water from the fountain creates harmony in the silent afternoon.

I'm silent, but in my head, Marco's voice echoes very clearly, as though the dead man is watching us and trying to warn me.

You can't protect her.

She's too good for you.

You can't make her happy.

Layla places her hands over mine circling her waist and grips them like I'm her everything.

"It's okay to let it go," I say. "Cry, Layla, as much as you want. I'll be here."

Her sobs break even more as I say that. I hold her even tighter.

I'm sorry.

I'm so fucking sorry.

I keep echoing those words in my heart over and over again. I can't say them out loud. It's useless. My apologies can't be compared to the tears running down her face.

Nothing is worth her tears.

Nothing.