Giving Nevio what he wanted. That idea had been ghosting around my head all night. It seemed like the easiest solution, one where part of my heart might be salvaged. Unfortunately for myself, I couldn’t bring myself to consider that option—yet. I wanted to believe this was so he’d get more time to develop fatherly feelings for his son because I suspected he wouldn’t try to form a bond if I weren’t pushing him.
Carlotta noticed my sour mood, but for once, I didn’t divulge last night’s make-out session to her. I felt ashamed of my actions, ashamed of my lack of restraint.
I didn’t leave the apartment all day. Poor Battista hadn’t left it since Nevio brought him here. I didn’t want to sneak him out in a cardboard box again, and I didn’t have an idea how else to do it. When I wasn’t busy entertaining Battista, I tried to read a book that would have been part of my nursing curriculum.
Nevio was on time for once, seven o’clock, with Indian takeout. Carlotta had dinner with us, which allowed me to relax as I was in no immediate danger of succumbing to my desires again. Battista was in his crib, gnawing on a teething ring. Nevio barely glanced at him during dinner as if he could pretend he wasn’t a father.
Carlotta left for her room after dinner to study for her courses tomorrow.
“So will you give me the rundown of what I need to do?” he asked with a nod toward his son.
“You could start by taking him out of his crib. You haven’t held him in a while.”
Nevio got up and rubbed his palms over his legs as if they were sweaty from nerves, which I couldn’t imagine, considering everything Nevio had experienced. A baby was hardly something to be scared of. Though, I had to admit that some of Battista’s crying fits had me break out in a sweat too.
Nevio walked up to the crib and stared down at him with furrowed brows. Then his eyes slanted to me. “Do you think he’ll be like me?”
I rose to my feet and moved to his side, even if his proximity always posed a risk. I wondered what exactly Nevio meant by this. Battista had Nevio’s eyes and shared some of his facial features. Only his hair was a few shades lighter. “He needs a loving home, then everything will be okay.”
Nevio shook his head, his dark eyes piercing mine. “I had a loving home, the fucking best family one could wish for in our world and beyond, but nothing is okay, trust me.”
“Maybe you just tell yourself it’s not because it’s easier than working on yourself.”
“Maybe,” he murmured, but I could tell he didn’t think it was the case.
Battista had stopped biting his ring and was now staring up at us with interest. I smiled at him, and he returned the smile. He only had two teeth so far, his upper incisors.
“He’s going to cry if I pick him up.”
“He won’t ever react otherwise if you don’t form a bond with him.”
Nevio reached into the crib and lifted Battista out of it. For a few seconds, Battista only stared at him, then his lower lip began to tremble, and a cry burst out of him. Nevio immediately turned to me as if he wanted to hand his son over to me.
I stepped back and raised my palms. “You promised to take care of him. If you always give up immediately, that won’t work.”
Nevio nodded. “Go to sleep. I’ll handle him. I suppose I have to sleep on the sofa. Or will you share your bed with me?”
I gave him a half smile. “The sofa is comfortable. You can find everything for his bottles on the counter. He usually wakes three times at night for his bottle. Sometimes he wants to play a little before falling back asleep, especially after his last bottle.”
I turned around, even as Battista’s cries tugged at my heartstrings. When my bedroom door fell shut behind me, I took a deep breath. I had to get up at five at the latest, but I wasn’t sure if I’d get any sleep if Battista kept crying like this. Nevio needed to talk to him and show Battista that he was safe. Would he be able to do it?
I wasn’t sure. I got ready for bed and lay down. Battista kept crying for another fifteen minutes, but then he quieted. I finally fell asleep.
I was woken in the middle of the night by cries. Usually, Battista signaled his hunger with mewl and soft cries. For him to cry this loudly, Nevio must have ignored those first signs. I got up and crept into the living room. The lights were on. A Nintendo Switch lay on the coffee table with some ego shooter. Battista was still in his crib, but Nevio wasn’t there. I took him out and followed the light into the kitchen, where Nevio was preparing a bottle. He was only in his boxers, displaying the muscles on his upper body and legs, but something else drew my attention this time. He was wearing headphones, and I could hear loud heavy metal blasting from the speakers even from a few steps away. No wonder he hadn’t heard Battista if he’d had those on the entire time and been busy playing computer games.
Nevio turned around with the bottle. His eyes scanned me from head to toe with a slow smile. My pulse picked up in anger. I didn’t take the bottle. Instead, I handed Battista to him, then I tugged the earphones from his ears and tossed them on the table. I couldn’t even say a word. I was so angry with him.
I whirled around and stalked back to my room. I was so agitated, I doubted I’d be able to fall asleep anytime soon. At least, Battista’s cries stopped almost instantly.
I stared up at the dark ceiling, wondering why I shouldn’t go to Remo and Serafina tomorrow and tell them the truth. Nothing pointed toward Nevio becoming a responsible parent soon. I couldn’t do this alone. It wasn’t my responsibility. In the short time I’d been taking care of Battista, he had already grown on me, but I was only eighteen. I couldn’t become an adoptive mother.
My door creaked, and Nevio appeared in the dim light from the hallway.
“If you think I’m going to make out with you now, you’re crazy,” I whispered harshly.
He walked over to me and sank down on my mattress. I was determined to slap him if he made a move.
“Where’s Battista?”
“He fell asleep in his crib after he had his bottle. The crying must have exhausted him.”
“That’s not how tonight was supposed to go.”
“Rory,” Nevio murmured as he leaned over me. I prepared to slap him, but as if he anticipated the move, his fingers clamped around my wrist, fixating my hand against my pillow as his thumb traced my palm. “You want a tame version of me that doesn’t exist.”
“I know who you are. I’ve known you all my life, and you are more than the monster you like to play. You can be funny, caring, and loyal. You can be so much more than what you limit yourself to be.”
He came even closer until I felt his breath against my lips, but except for his fingers still holding my wrist, he wasn’t touching me. “I’m not playing the monster. The only time I truly feel like myself is at night when I hunt and kill. That’s who I am.”
“Maybe it’s easier to be him, but in the end, it won’t make you happy.”
Nevio chuckled without humor.
“If you’re so sure you’re only a monster, then why are you here? Why won’t you just give your son to your parents so they can raise him?”
“Maybe I want to play family with the only girl who ever got under my skin before I succumb to the darkness.”
I scoffed. “This isn’t playing family. This is me being a babysitter and you the irresponsible parent. I think you can’t stand the fact that you don’t remember having had me, and now you won’t stop until you’ve had me again to get me out of your system.”
“I wish it were as easy as that. Fuck, if I knew how to get you out of my body. I wish it were as easy as bleeding you out. If bloodletting was the solution, I would have slit my wrists a long time ago. I want you out of my system, but there you are, the blinding light at the back of my darkness.” He released a low breath. “Maybe you should go to my parents. It would be the final straw for my father. You’d be rid of me one way or another. If that’s what you want, then you need to tell them the truth because I won’t ever set you free.”
He pushed to his feet and left.
There was no way I’d fall asleep again now.
The next few days were hell. Getting up early for my internship with our medical team proved almost impossible after being awake most nights with Battista. After the first night of Nevio taking care of Battista, I decided not to have him spend the night again. He’d been hardly any help. Instead, he came over in the morning whenever Carlotta didn’t have time to watch Battista. Slowly, I was finding a tentative rhythm with Battista but it didn’t make the situation easier.
Carlotta and I sat on the ground with Battista while he played on his blanket on the ground. His favorite toy was a whisk and a mirror.
I stroked his cheek when he accidentally smacked his forehead with the whisk, looking torn between crying and puzzlement. He gave me a grin.
“Every day he stays here makes it harder to say goodbye to him,” Carlotta said. “You need to put a stop to this soon. Nevio won’t become the father he needs to be. Not anytime soon. Maybe never. Battista should be raised by his family. Hoping for a miracle won’t help you or him.”
“Says the girl who goes to church every Sunday.”
Carlotta pursed her lips. “I don’t think any of Nevio’s actions are God’s doing.”
“Definitely not. I’m the devil, Lotta,” Nevio said.
I let out a surprised screech, not having heard him enter. Battista stared at me wide-eyed, the whisk covered in his spittle as it was pressed to his mouth.
“Just because you have a key doesn’t mean you should enter unannounced,” Carlotta voiced my thoughts.
She pushed to her feet and smoothed her skirt. “Antonia is picking me up in five minutes. I should head down.”
She breathed past Nevio, grabbed her handbag, and left. It had become harder and harder to avoid visits from our family members. It was only a matter of time before they’d get suspicious and come over unannounced. I wasn’t sure how we’d keep Battista’s existence from them then.
Nevio squatted beside Battista and handed him the whisk he’d dropped. After a moment of hesitation, Battista took it and shoved it back into his mouth. He looked impossibly cute, and my heart warmed. Carlotta was right. It would only get harder the longer I took care of him. “I think we need to discuss Battista again. We can’t go on like this.”
Nevio’s gaze hit me. “I know.”
I was surprised and a tad suspicious by his reply. “I need to know when you’ll talk to your parents. This can’t be an arrangement without an end.”
Nevio nodded again. “It would be best if my parents adopted him, or maybe Kiara and Nino.”
“Don’t you want to be a father to him?” I asked, my heart feeling heavy. Battista peered up at me as if he understood what I was saying.
“No,” he said firmly. “For him, I’m going to make the right choice.”
I glared, not convinced. “You just don’t want the responsibility. Be honest.”
He shrugged. “I’m twenty-one, and that’s not even the main problem.”
“I’m eighteen and have been taking care of him for you. It’s not a matter of age.”
“He’ll be better off without me as his father, Rory. Nobody’s going to contradict me on that point.”
“I’d be better off without you too, but you don’t care about that.”
Battista started fussing, his lower lip wobbling. We shouldn’t be having this discussion with him in the room. He was only a baby, but he could pick up on our agitation.
Nevio’s expression became hard, then his lips pulled into a sharp smile. “With you, I’m not doing the noble thing. I want you too much for that.”
I shook my head, annoyed but also maddeningly flattered, which made me even angrier. I didn’t want to fall trap to Nevio’s manipulation. I picked up Battista, pushed to my feet, and moved to the doorway. “I’m getting him ready for bed now. You can leave.”
I turned, hoping he would be gone when I returned to the living room.
It took me almost two hours to get Battista to sleep. I should probably have tried to catch some sleep too, but I was still too agitated by the argument, and my sweet tooth was calling to me for a treat.
I trudged out of my room, past the thankfully empty living room, and into the kitchen where I froze. Nevio sat at the table, his feet propped up on another chair, watching something on his phone while eating Nutella straight from the glass with a spoon. That should have been my treat.
I lost it right then, right there, because of a bit of hazelnut spread. I staggered toward him and ripped the glass from his hand. It had been half full last time I’d checked. Now only another spoonful was left.
“Why can’t you just leave me alone? Instead you make my life more miserable by the day. You haven’t done a single nice thing for me yet.”
I turned and grabbed a spoon from the drawer, then ate the remains of the Nutella, glaring at the kitchen counters.
“Who would have thought Nutella would be the last straw.”
His sarcasm only fueled my anger. “It was the only thing that might have made a shitty evening better, and you ruined it.”
It was unreasonable to be this mad because of food, but Nevio had been trying my patience for too long.
The chair scratched over the floor, and his steps sounded behind me. I whirled on him.
“There’s Nutella on your face,” Nevio murmured, reaching out for the corner of my mouth. I snapped at him and bit his finger. His grin became feral as he calmly wiped me clean before licking his thumb.
“I could make this evening better, far better than a glass of Nutella ever could.”
“History says otherwise,” I muttered, but something in his eyes called to me. He cupped my neck and jerked me toward his body. “Let me prove it to you.” His lips claimed mine. I had every intention to shove him away, but he tasted of Nutella, of sin and dark promises, and I kissed him back. My entire body was aflame. Nevio was a master arsonist, and I was too willing to be set on fire by him.
His palms mapped my back, then grasped my hips and lifted me onto the counter. He stopped our kiss, to my utter surprise. His chest was heaving, so was mine, and desire swam in his dark eyes, so his ending our kiss made even less sense.
“This time, you won’t escape me. I won’t give you time to run.”
I didn’t understand what he meant.
Nevio dropped to his knees, taking me by surprise. It brought him to eye level with my knees and, thus, my most private area. Alarmed, I opened my mouth to protest, but he shoved my legs as far apart as they would go and hooked a finger under the crotch of my pajama shorts, pulling it aside. I never wore underwear under my pj’s, so I was completely bare to his eyes. My pussy glistened with the first hints of arousal, a fact that made me feel ashamed. “You’ll always remember me. My tongue in your pussy.”
I pushed my palm against his head despite the deep need surging through my body.
I’d sworn to myself not to sleep with Nevio again. Of course I’d also sworn to myself to never have any physical contact with him at all, and I’d failed constantly at the latter. I was worried I’d fail at the former too because despite my anxiety when I thought of our first night together, not just the pain but also the emotional turmoil, I still wanted to be with Nevio in every sense. My body yearned for his closeness.
“Rory, I’m going to lick you. We both want it.”
I swallowed because my core clenched when I imagined Nevio’s tongue and lips on me.
My arm muscles softened, allowing Nevio to move, and he didn’t need another invitation.
He pushed between my legs, his shoulders pressing into my thighs, and dove right between my pussy lips, swiping over my ass cheeks, my opening, and up to my clit.
My mouth fell open, and I gripped Nevio’s hair. I wasn’t sure where this would lead. It was nowhere good, but I couldn’t resist.
