Page 69 of The Devil
I stare at him for a long moment before it takes more guts than I thought I had to admit, “You just being a man is enough to trigger me.”
Chapter 19
ENZO
Foda-se.I wanted to wait before we had this talk, but Jenna will never open up to me as long as she perceives me as a threat.
I push my fingers through my hair, then turn away from her.
It feels as if a fist grips my heart, squeezing the life from it, and for the first time ever, I consider sharing my darkest moment with another person.
I can’t expect her to talk to me if I’m not willing to do the same.
Merda!
I walk to the huge windows, and crossing my arms over my chest, I say, “Come sit, Jenna.”
Her eyebrows pull together as she cautiously walks toward the nearest couch, and taking a seat, her shoulders slump.
I glance out the window and stare at the trees.
If you want this woman, you have to share your past with her.
When my mouth refuses to open, I make a frustrated sound.
Deus. It’s difficult.
I shake my head, and as I look at where Jenna is staring at me from the couch.
Her lips part, and shock ripples over her face. A moment later, her features crumble into a heartbreaking expression, and I see the question in her eyes.
“Yes,” I whisper.
She lifts her arm, covering her mouth with her hand, then a tear escapes from her left eye.
Disgust rears up in my chest, and close on its heels, debilitating shame.
My voice is hoarse as I say the words out loud for the first time. “I was thirteen and starving.”
One tear after the other begins to roll down her cheeks.
The memories creep out of the deepest pits of hell where I buried them, and I shake my head hard as I mentally fight them back, refusing to let them take hold.
Long minutes pass before I’m able to talk again. “I heard how other kids were making money, and I was desperate. I thought I was willing to do it so I could get something to eat, but I was wrong.”
Five euros for a hand job. That’s what I was told, but those five euros cost me much more.
A soft sob escapes Jenna, and darting to her feet, she rushes around the couch, and I quickly uncross my arms just in time for her to plow into my chest.
“It’s okay,” she says, her voice clear and strong even though it’s trembling. “I understand.”
I engulf her in a tight embrace and press my cheek to the top of her head. “I’ve never told anyone and had planned to take it to my grave, but I need you to know that I…” My voice cracks, and I have to take a moment as destructive emotions move through me.
Jenna pulls back a little and lifts her face to me. When our eyes lock, she finishes my sentence. “You won’t do that to me.” I see the trust forming in her eyes, then she says, “I’ll take your secret to the grave with me. Along with my own.”
She lets go of me and takes a couple of steps backward, and I watch as indecision plays over her face.
“How old were you?” I ask in an attempt to make things easier for her.
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