Page 85 of Crowned In Blood
Lies, all of it waslies.
Tears rolled down my face, and I covered my mouth, bit my tongue to stop myself from taking it all back. From apologizing, explaining,beggingfor his forgiveness.
It's better this way. It's better. He'll be okay.
But it hurts. It hurts so much to hurt him.
It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.
But I'm doing this for him.
I'm doing this for him!
"You know I'm not going to let that happen," Marco growled.
"If I find you on my doorstep, Marco Torrino, I'll shoot you myself."
I hung up and threw the phone away, and then I screamed. I screamed out my pain, my fury, myache. I squeezed my ears and screamed over and over again.
My legs jerked from under me and I fell to the side, kicking at nothing, wishing I could hit someone, hurt them in the same way I'd just hurt him. And the same way I just destroyed myself.
But it was too much, and no matter what I did, I couldn't release it. Dots appeared in my vision again. Pain like I'd never experienced exploded in my skull, and the whole world went black.
When I openedmy eyes again, it took me a second to remember where I was. This wasn't the first time I'd blacked out when the pressure got to be too much, but it was the first time I'd felt so numb, like the life had been sucked out of me.
I slowly stood, leaning on the wall to make it to my bathroom. Once I washed my face and felt more balanced, I set forth with making a plan.
I needed to pack a bag and leave because Marco would come after me.
The thought of him showing up at my door thrilled me, filled my heart with joy, but I shut the emotion down quickly.
That couldn't happen.
If he caught me, he wouldn't let me go, and hehadto.
My phone kept ringing—it was Marco. I hovered over the accept button, just for a second, but then shook my head and put it on airplane mode.
I was only unconscious for ten minutes, and it would take Marco an hour to get here if he left his office immediately after our call. That meant I had fifty minutes, likely closer to thirty if he was speeding.
I dashed to my room, grabbed my go bag hidden in a secret compartment in the back of my closet, and checked the contents. Cash, two guns, knives, clothes, a toothbrush, an emergency medical kit, snack bars, some bottles of water, and a duplicate copy of all of my identification.
I changed my clothes, popped the trunk and tossed everything inside.
It was ironic to me I first ran from a mafia man to save my life, and now I was running from one to save Marco's.
Hopefully one day, I can stop.
I wiped the few tears that clouded my vision, then opened the garage door and backed out.
A black SUV pulled in behind me, blocking me, and the man that got out set my blood on fire and chills up my spine—Marco.
He shouldn't be here.
Hecouldn'tbe here.
But he was, and he waspissed.
Every cell in my body wanted to open the door and throw myself at him—but I fought against it.
