Chapter Six

My mind is hazy, but I can make out the movement of cold, soft, firm lips against mine. A hand comes around my waist, and the person pulls me onto their lap.

“Shhhh, baby. You're safe now."

Alessio!

Desperate for comfort, I cling onto him , wrapping my arms around his neck and burying my face in his chest. He pulls me close and gently rubs my back as I convulse into a sobbing mess.

Time passes, I don't know how long, before I calm down and my sobs subside.

“Are you okay, baby?" His voice comes, calm, quiet, concerned. I look up at him and damn, his eyes!

Not cold like they usually are. Not calculating, not hiding a hundred secrets behind a fake and creepy smile.

Tonight, they’re soft, warm even, worrying about me in a way that makes something inside my chest twist painfully.

Alessio cups my cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear I didn’t even feel fall.

“Talk to me, Amelia,” he murmurs, voice low, steady, anchoring me back into my body. “What happened?”

I shake my head, swallowing hard. Everything feels clogged in my throat; fear, shame, exhaustion. The echo of Lucas’s handwriting still burns behind my eyelids.

A nightmare I'll never be rid of.

Alessio tilts my chin up gently. “Hey. No hiding.” His forehead presses against mine, grounding me. “I felt you shake apart in my arms, baby. You don’t have to pretend, not with me.”

More tears threaten to fall. I bite down on my lip, but it trembles anyway. “It was him,” I whisper. “He left a letter in the bathroom. I thought he was gone. I thought I could breathe again. But then it turns out I am wrong.”

The muscles in Alessio’s jaw tighten, but his hand stays soft where it holds me.

“Lucas.” He says the name like a curse. “He contacted you.”

I nod weakly. You wouldn't actually call it contact, but it is something along those lines. Apart from my friends, Alessio is the only extra soul who knows about my panic attacks and Luca.

Mainly because he found out – I don't know how – and has been an asshole about it, using it to threaten me, subtly though.

His arm tightens around my waist, pulling me impossibly closer, like he could shield me from the memory itself. “I’m here,” he says. “I’m not letting anything happen to you.”

Something inside me cracks.

“He ruined me,” I choke out. “I’m trying to move on, Alessio, I swear, but the second I saw his handwriting I… I couldn’t breathe. I felt like I was right back there, trapped, alone, and…he…he…”

“You’re not alone.”

His voice cuts through mine, firm but gentle, the kind of tone he only uses when he wants me to believe something with my whole soul. “Did you forget our promise? I told you I'm a man of my word didn't I?"

Out of all the Romano brothers, Alessio is the only one I'm slightly close to. I still fear him and try to keep my distance as best as I can, but we grew up in them same town.

We all attended the same elementary and middle school before I dropped out.

We were friends once upon a time. The time when I was bullied for having a sick father and a user mom. No one wanted to be my friend then, except the boy with blue eyes and dark hair that I despised so much.

Okay, despise is rather harsh.

But anyways, our friendship faltered the day Mom told me to stay away from him, that I didn't deserve to have any friends and that his father would beat the shit out of me if he found out I was “leeching" off his son.

I backed off, for good.

My breathing wavers, but it doesn’t break this time around.

Slowly, he takes my shaking hand and places it over his heart. His heartbeat thuds steady beneath my palm , strong, certain, real.

“Feel that?” he whispers. “As long as it's beating, you’re safe. Always!”

I close my eyes, just for a second.

And for the first time since finding that letter, the terror loosens its grip on my senses.

When I open my eyes, Alessio’s gaze is still on me, intense, protective, unreadable… and yet more open than I’ve ever seen it.

“Good,” he murmurs.“There’s my girl.”

Heat rushes to my face — not desire, not yet — but something warm and unsteady and confusing.

“Alessio?” I call, not knowing what I’m asking, just knowing I need him here, grounding me.

His hand smooths up my spine, slow and reassuring.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he says. “Not tonight. Not ever.”

“Take me home," I murmur, burying my face further into his chest. As he lifts me up in his arms and walks out of the room, I feel the constant fear I have of Lucas vanish.

I can't help the feeling that turning to Alessio for comfort is the beginning of something I'll definitely regret.