Page 40 of The Carnage We Keep

Damiano barks out a single, humorless laugh.

“Jesus Christ. You seriously wanted to bring me all the way out here so you could watch me open whatever psycho bullshit you put in this thing?”

For a second, I just stare at him.

“Excuse me?”

“What is it this time, Bella?” He holds up the box. “A finger? Another dick?”

I start to laugh. “No, it’s⁠—”

“Because I’m really not in the mood for your bullshit right now.”

My smile freezes in place and then shatters.

“Whatever this is…” He shakes the box next to his ear, glaring sideways at it like he expects something to burst out and bite him. “I want fuck-all to do with it. Frankly, I’m getting tired of your particular brand of crazy bleeding into my life.”

There's a sharp prick behind my ribs. But I swallow it back as my eyes darken.

“I was trying to be nice, asshole!” I snap.

Damiano scoffs. Actually fucking scoffs.

Then his eyes drag over me, all the way from my hair which I painstakingly curled into waves to the dress I spent forty goddamn minutes choosing, before coming back to my face.

His expression changes, and a sneer lifts the corners of his lips.

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” he mutters. “Is that what this is?”

My forehead wrinkles. “What are you talking about?”

He gestures broadly at all of me.

“What?” I say again, my voice cracking a bit as my confidence drops.

“You invite me out to the cliffs, alone, at night.” His brows lift. “You tell me to dress up, and then you show up looking like…” His mouth tightens.

“Like what?” I spit through clenched teeth. “Like. What.”

Damiano gives me another look as my face burns.

“Let me guess, you were you trying to seduce me to make me look stupid.”

There are moments in life when the soul simply evacuates the body. This is one of them.

I stare at him. He stares back as the waves smash against the rocks below.

“I—no!” I blurt, approximately four octaves too high. “Get the fuck over yourself, asshole!”

“I’m seriously asking, Bella,” he growls.

“And I’m seriously telling you to go fuck yourself!” I seethe.

Okay, this is actually better than the awkwardness earlier. Anger I can do. Anger is warm and familiar and doesn’t make me feel like someone just reached into my chest and punched me in the heart.

Damiano rubs a hand over his jaw. “Whatever this is, Bella, I’m not interested.”

There it is again. That awful little pinch deep inside.