Page 67 of The Ache That Stayed
I didn’t care.
I didn’t—
An engine cut through the quiet outside. The sound threaded through me instantly, sending a tumble through my chest. My breath stalled and everything inside me went still.
Relief unfurled so suddenly it almost hurt, making my knees weak. A shiver followed close behind. I hated it.
Every nerve in my body sharpened at once. And then my pulse came roaring back to life.
CHAPTER 17
Roxanne
The sound of the motorcycle grew louder. Closer.
My jaw tightened. Heat rushed through me—anger, relief, and something uglier tangled in between.
The engine cut and silence followed.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
The door opened. Santino stepped in like nothing had happened. Like the last twenty-four hours hadn’t existed.
He looked wrecked. Knuckles split. Blood dried into the collar of his shirt. Shoulders heavy, like the night had dragged him through hell and spat him back out.
His eyes found me instantly. Always did.
A beat passed. Then—
“You were supposed to stay put.”
His tone was too calm. That was worse. He looked like he was hanging onto his patience by a thread.
Tick. Tick. Boom.
My hand moved before I could think. My palm stung as the slap cracked across his face—sharp, loud, echoing through the room. He barely shifted, only his head snapping to the side with the impact, surprise flickering in his eyes.
He didn’t move otherwise. Just looked at me.
“Fuck you,” I snapped. “I stayed. Longer than I should have. Waiting like an idiot.”
I spat, each word edged with venom.
“It took longer than expected.” He spoke through gritted teeth.
He might’ve tried to sound calm, but I caught the way his eyes darkened, holding back a storm.
I shoved hard at his chest.
“You disappeared!” My voice rose. “You didn’t answer your phone!”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “I was busy handling things.”
The normalcy of his tone snapped the last string of my patience. I shoved him again. Harder.
“That’s what you’re good at. Leaving.
You don’t get to do that to me again,” I rasped, shaking.
