Page 83 of Damiano De Luca (The Five Syndicates)
Because I didn’t have Ren.
And I didn’t deserve her until I shed all the lies.
Own my truths, indeed.
Though deception is seen as an attack upon the other, deception is a tool of emotional suicide.
Unknown
The children screamed as they ran out of the classroom.
My migraine bit at my sanity, and I forced myself to yell out, “Walk, please! Walk! Dylan, stop pushing Andy or I’ll send you to the principal’s office!” I groaned and pressed my forehead against the whiteboard. “Why must children have vocal chords?”
“Ren? Are you okay? You’re normally so calm and unfazed.” Silence. “Ren?!”
“What?!” I faltered as I took in Sally’s stunned eyes. “Oh, my God. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you… I’m a mess.”
“You’re a second-grade teacher. I think you get a hall pass.”
“Thanks. It’s just been a crazy week.” Try a crazy life. “Did you need something?”
“One of the parents brought pizza.” She gestured behind her even though the lounge was to the right. “It’s in the teacher’s lounge.”
“Thanks, Sal.” My weak smile fooled neither of us. “I’ll be right there.”
“I’ll save you a few slices.” She took in my no doubt haggard appearance. “Good thing it’s Friday, right?”
Yup. Definitely haggard.
I was thankful when she left. I barely held on as it was. Sanity seemed like such a stranger these days, and I craved an ugly cry session like a reality star craved attention. I eyed the clock. I had thirty minutes of lunch left. Not enough time.
I pushed the tears back, but they wouldn’t recede. One slipped past my lashes and down my cheek. Then, another. Oh, God. My heart was breaking, as slow as the Earth’s rotation. I never stopped to let myself feel it, but I knew it was happening as much as I tried to prevent it.
My body sank to the floor. I drew my knees to my chest, rested my cheek on them, and for the first time since I fell in love with Damian more than ten years ago, let it happen. I let myself break. The tears didn’t make me feel weak. They cleansed me, pushing away the bad memories until I could only focus on the good. The parts of Damian I fell in love with.
I never feared for my life in Texas. Not because of my name—Angelo was prone to reckless lashing out that could turn dangerous in a split second, and my name wouldn’t provide enough logic to prevent violence. No, Damian had been my protector, even when he didn’t want to admit it to either of us.
Our library dates saved my soul, and that loneliness I’d felt my entire life receded around him. He protected me when Laura and the rest of the student body drugged me. We fell in love in little moments—battles of wit, tiny shows of affection, resolute faith in one another.
So much for that faith.
My phone rang, and I forced myself to sober. I answered it without looking at the caller ID and pressed it to my ear as I gathered my things.
“Renata, honey—”
What the…
My brows pressed together. “Papà?”
The urgency in his voice had my pulse racing. “I need you to go to your mom’s and grab something for me, Renata.”
I’d opted to stay out of their mess when I left Maman’s. I wanted nothing to do with the mafia. It would take nothing more than a miracle to drag me back—kicking and screaming, mind you.
I shook my head, even though he couldn’t see me. “Can’t you ask her to?”
“It’s a tape, baby girl.” He’d never called me that before. “She’s using it to blackmail me. What’s on it could send me to jail. You don’t want your papà in jail, right?”
“Papà, this is between you and my mom. I’d appreciate it if you left me out of it.”
