“Come on, Massimo.” I stop when he pulls open the car door for me, turning to stare up at him. “You know as well as I do that we’re all playing a part here. But only time will tell us who makes the final cut to the big show.”
Chapter Sixteen
MASSIMO
“We’re all playing a part.”
Kristina’s words loop through my mind on the way home from the high school, pent-up rage percolating in my veins. The overwhelming urge to drive to Savio’s estate and put my fist through his throat consumes me until I am unable to breathe without feeling like there are thick chains wrapped tight around my lungs. My fingers clench the leather steering wheel, the tips white from the pressure, and while Kristina is still talking, I haven’t heard a single word of what she’s said.
All I can think about is how I’ve violated my own rules and allowed myself to get swept up in a complicated swirl of emotions that will only make my job harder.
I went off the rails, browbeating an innocent kid about a text he didn’t even send in an attempt to protect her and her sisters.
I should have been focused on what that information could do to help my cause but instead, all I cared about was saving Kristina from the evils chasing her.
I can’t feed into these damn feelings.
I have to crush them.
I’ve let her in too far, and the only choice I have right now is to slam the door closed before she can make it any farther.
Compromising my mission to eliminate Savio isn’t an option, and the things I feel for Kristina are a threat to the whole damn thing.
They need to be squelched immediately, if not sooner, and there’s no better way to do that by convincing her that I’m a complete fucking asshole, not the knight in shining armor she probably thinks I am now.
With the snap of her fingers, I blink fast, narrowly escaping my tortured thoughts.
“Are you here with me?” she asks. “Why are you so quiet?”
And since I can’t very well tell her the truth, that I’ve been sent in as a spy because Savio needs her for some demented plan to take over the world, I grunt a noncommittal response.
I can’t let myself fall in to this ‘part’ I’m playing.
He needs her, but so do I.
She obviously holds the key to the reason why Anton is dead, and I need to unearth it.
Whatever she’s stirred up inside of me needs to simmer the fuck down.
If I lose sight of the reason I’m here, the only thing that will help me regain control over my future and the future of those I care about, I will fail.
Epically.
And that will cause pain and suffering to a lot of people.
Not an option.
Kristina will be saved once I figure out the secrets Savio is so desperate to unearth.
Then she can go on with her life, and I can finally do the same without constantly looking over my shoulder, wondering when Savio is going to tap me on it with a bloody dagger.
Distance is what I need.
Not what I want, but what I need.
“You’ve barely said a word since we left the school,” she continues, her brow furrowed. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the expression that very clearly asks ‘why did you all of a sudden turn into a noncommunicative dickhead once we got in the car?’
And I can’t give her an answer.
“It’s not my job to solve mysteries, Kristina,” I say, my voice gruff. “I shouldn’t have gotten involved.”
“Why are you so shut down all of a sudden?” she snaps. “A little while ago, you seemed to care about me and my family. What changed?”
I tighten my jaw, avoiding her accusatory stare. “Savio gave me specific instructions. They don’t include figuring out who killed your parents.”
Every hard word I spit out at her slices into my heart like a razor blade.
Emotions equate to weakness.
I let weakness command my entire existence until I escaped it at age sixteen.
I vowed to never again give it the power to infiltrate my world.
That means I have to stick to my plans and not allow myself to get derailed by what I feel for this girl.
How the hell could she ever care about me, anyway?
As much as I want to be the savior, the guy without baggage, the one who can conquer the world with zero self-doubt, I’m not.
I’m the guy who’s constantly being chased by a gaggle of demons, ones that have been hammered into my psyche for years and years, ones I can’t ever escape, no matter how much time passes or how much distance I put between myself and the person who sicced them on me in the first place.
How the fuck could I be worthy of her?
By not taking control of my life when I had the chance, I let Savio grab hold of the reins and ride me head-first into the flames.
I faltered.
So many times.
And here I am again, letting him pull my strings like I’m a goddamn marionette.
No, the only way out for me, the only way to reverse the years of torment is to turn it all back around on Savio, to make him feel those things, to show him what it means to feel defeated and beaten down.
To strip him of everything and expose him like an open sore.
And then pour rubbing alcohol all over it.
Pure, unadulterated suffering.
Mentally, physically, emotionally.
I want all of that for Savio.
My father.
Budding feelings will only derail me from achieving that end.
His end.
So I shut down because it’s all I know how to do.
“I can’t get involved, Kristina.” I pull up into the circular driveway that spans the front entrance to her house, pressing my foot on the brake. “I’m here to watch over you three. That’s it.”
A tiny gasp slips from her lips but I force myself not to look at her.
I know exactly what will greet my eyes if I dare turn my head.
She’s got a lot of rage, too, and I wouldn’t be too surprised if a fist cracked against my jaw in response.
“I came to you because I thought I could trust you. When we were under fire, I didn’t know which way to turn, who I could count on. I believed that you were the guy, especially after everything last night…” Her voice trails off, disgust replaced with a flicker of hope that I need to effectively snuff out.
“You can trust me to protect your safety. But I’m not being paid to do anything more.”
“My fucking bad,” she yells. “For thinking that maybe you had a shred more humanity than your asshole boss. Now I see that you’re as disingenuous as he is.” She pushes open the door, gets out, and slams it shut so hard the whole car shakes.
I watch her stomp up the stone steps, her shoulders quivering when she stops at the top and digs around for her key.
She was right.
We’re all playing our parts.
And mine is a lying bastard.
It’s who I have to be.
It’s who I know I am.
I pull my car around to the back of the house and park it there, out of sight. A quick look around confirms that Frank’s car isn’t here.
I’m sure he’ll be back to breathe down the girls’ necks soon enough.
There is something about the guy that rubs me wrong, and my recent run-in sends up red flags about his true intentions.