Page 25 of Run, Starlight (The Royal Ballet Presents #3)

MARCELLA

The waves call to me, and I step out of the house, my toes sinking into the warm sand.

The sun is setting on the horizon. This is no doubt the most beautiful place I’ve ever been.

The sea is clear blue, the sky has not one cloud, and the breeze is so warm that for a second, I wonder if I’m not dreaming.

My hands shake, and the memory of what just happened back there flashes in my mind. This is not a dream.

This is not even close to a dream.

There are too many rotten pieces I’m missing to this story, things that Enzo yelled in his maniac state that don’t make much sense, but I know this place holds as many traumas to them as my mother’s house holds to me.

After the funeral, I thought my parents were going to sell the house. I couldn’t imagine why we would live in the same place where we had to scrub Fabrizio’s brains off the carpet. But I was surprised when they showed no interest in leaving.

“This is our home, Cella.”

Home .

I look at the beautiful mansion by the sand. No one would think something bad could happen in this paradise, but just like my suburban home, these walls hold a tragedy. It was once their home, but the floors are soaked in blood.

Darkness took them. Its claws close around their ankles and pull them into it, and now Enzo is haunted by the past, just like me.

Fuck.

I shouldn’t feel so much kinship toward him, but at that moment when I realized what was happening, I couldn’t stop myself. So many times, I wish someone were there to hold me after a nightmare. I couldn’t leave him wanting. Begging.

Steps in the sand bring me back from my thoughts, and I find Enzo coming in my direction. He’s looking better, a little red to his cheeks after what happened. He’s dressed in all black, as usual, with the top three buttons of his shirt undone and sleeves folded over his elbow.

“There you are.”

He looks too good to be this crazy. People like him should come with a warning, yet he’s one of the most handsome men I’ve ever seen. The other is his brother. He’s carrying a manila envelope, but I don’t want to ask too much. I know enough already.

“How are you feeling?” I ask, hugging my midsection.

“On the edge of insanity, of course.”

“So as usual.” I nod.

And he smiles. Oh god, he smiles, and I have no chance to win this war against myself. His teeth are beautiful. I didn’t know teeth could be this beautiful, but his are. His eyes are dark but so warm, and the way the orange sunset lights up his golden complexion is nothing short of a crime.

Enzo surprises me by sitting on the sand, his mysterious manila envelope is pushed to the side when he takes his arms around his knees. I don’t want to just stand there and end up taking the spot beside him.

“Lucky warned me that coming back was a bad idea,” he confesses. “I thought that boy died a long time ago, so I didn’t need to worry about his scars.”

“What happened here?” I ask even though I don’t want to know. I can’t care for my captor more than I already do.

Enzo shrugs. “The same old, same old. Cruel man, good mother. He killed her in front of us. I remember the taste of her blood.” He licks his lips in thought, his eyes to the sea. “A boy shouldn’t learn the taste of his mother’s blood.”

“No.” I agree. “Or the cruelty of his father.”

“Being scared is a choice.” He turns to me, his eyes so intense I have to turn away from them. “It eats you up until you’re nothing. Until you can’t move in a corner. I told you to be the predator. I was the prey before. It’ll kill you.”

“My brother killed himself in front of me,” I tell him even though I have a feeling that he knows. He knows far too much about me to miss the event that shaped me into who I am.

“There’s dignity in going on his own terms,” Enzo says.

My eyes fill with tears. No. He’s wrong. There’s no dignity in killing yourself because you can’t stand being alive for one more second. There’s nothing in this life but a slow painful death for the ones who stayed behind, wondering for the rest of our days what we could have said.

My silence alerts him, and he turns my way and curses when he sees my tears. “Lucky is right sometimes. I’m not fit to care for something so beautiful.”

I wipe my face with the back of my hand. “How would he leave on his own terms if he left because he was in too much pain?”

Enzo takes my face in his warm hands, his thumbs wipe my tears off, and I let him because it’s been a long time since anyone cared to wipe them.

“I don’t understand life and death like the other people. I’m sorry. I don’t—” He shakes his head. “Fuck.”

“Do you think he felt the darkness inside me too? And that’s why he decided to come to me to die?”

He makes a sound with his throat. “Marcella, if I was going to die, I’d too choose to look at who I love the most one last time.”

I laugh between my cries. I never thought that maybe Fabrizio loved me so much even though his last words to me were kind.

When someone decides to take their own life in front of you, that’s all that you remember.

The burning smell and blood. The shotgun that gets you jumping at every sound. You don’t remember the kindness.

“I thought I was fucked up for a long time,” I confess.

“Aren’t we all? Some of us are worse than others.

You’ve been running from who you are for far too long.

I don’t know who that girl was before, but you changed when your brother died.

And she is clawing her way out ever since.

” He places his hand over my head. “Someone else was born the second that gun went off. The more you are afraid of her, the more she tries to take over. I died here once. I let that boy lie in this sand, and I became who I am today. And here is where you leave behind the afraid version of you. It’s time. ”

He puts space between us and hands me the manila envelope that I was successfully ignoring. With a little smile, he stands up and leaves me be.

I look at the waves and the lilac sky, my heart beating fast because I know Enzo is many things, but he’s not a liar. Whatever is in this envelope will change me forever and make me decide who I want to be.

My trembling fingers open the flap. I’m not ready to choose the darkness. I’m not ready to walk away yet.

But I take the document inside, and I know I ran out of time.