Page 11 of Targeted By Vengeance

To save her the trouble, I rose from the bed and walked over to the door. I reached for the lock on the doorknob. At the kiss of the cool metal on my fingertips, my hands froze. “You’re not coming back…are you?” I asked, each word scraping the inside of my throat. “Is this why you set me up here?”

Another moment of silence. Each passing second weighed heavier than the last.

“I’ll always come back to you. I just want better for you. You…you deserve better than the lifestyle I live.”

“What I deserve and what I want are two different things. Always have been. I just thought you understood that. That was my mistake.”

“Open the door, Simone,” he demanded, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it.

The change of tone was enough to make me comply.

Mateo’s eyes ran over my wet cheeks, counting every single streak. His hands raised, reaching for my face.

I stepped back before he could lay them on me.

His brows twitched at the rejection, and his hands fell in defeat. “I’ll be back.”

“When?”

“Soon,” he promised.

“Okay,” I murmured with a nod. I knew better than to put any faith behind his words. I wasn’t sure how much I trusted them anymore.

He leaned in and kissed my forehead. His lips lingered there for a moment, all the words he wouldn’t say hovering over us. Then, he turned and headed back down the hall, leaving me to face this part of death alone.

THE ASSASSIN

Maria set a hand on my bouncing knee. I hadn’t even realized I was doing it until she touched me.

Tearing my eyes away from the window, I blinked out of my trance and looked down at her.

Are you okay? She signed, a concerned frown accompanying her question.

I nodded.

I’d been thinking about Simone, replaying the look on her face the last time I’d seen her. Her bloodshot eyes, tear-stained face, and pouted lips haunted me from the moment I stepped out of her apartment. I don’t think I’d ever seen her cry before.

The few tears I saw at the masquerade party didn’t count. Those were just a crack in her armor. The other night, the entire thing had shattered.

When I first called Dante and made the arrangements to stow her away in his territory, I didn’t think she’d mind. I thought she’d see the good intentions behind what I was trying to do. This nomadic life, full of blood and violence, wasn’t for her. She needed somewhere stable. Somewhere safe. A place where she could put down her roots and bloom into the woman her old life never allowed her to be.

Her rage may be preventing her from hearing it, but she had a good heart - one that bleeds so heavily for others it neglects itself. Trying to put her heart on ice felt wrong. I wasn’t convinced it would freeze - no matter how hard either of us tried.

Simone wasn’t born to be a killer. And I wasn’t keen on making her into one.

But, from the pain in her eyes the other night, I wasn’t sure if I had much of a choice.

It was that bad, huh? Maria asked.

“Mhm. She barely let me kiss her goodbye.”

She needs time. What she’s been through would be a lot for anyone.

“I know, but I just… I don’t know how to be what she needs.”

You could start by being patient with her. She’s sorting through a wide range of emotions, and she’s not always going to handle them well. Some days, she’s gonna need you to listen, and other times she’s just gonna want to be held. All you can do is follow her lead. Do whatever she needs in that specific moment and go from there.

“Where should I start the next time I see her? I mean, you should’ve seen the look in her eyes. It was like I’d stabbed her through the heart.”