Chapter 76: Chapter 76

◇ KEL ◇

Unrequited feelings would be my untimely demise.

It would happen, for sure.  I just couldn't tell when.

In my head, the thin line between love and hate seemed to blur even more.   I didn't want to forget about him;  I wanted to be with him.  But I hated the consequences.  I hated how he thought it wouldn't work out and wouldn't even try.

Nothing made sense anymore.  Trying to comprehend the complexity of our situation, although necessary, just took a toll on me mentally, emotionally.

It didn't help that he now seemed eager to stay close to me.  All of sudden, he wanted to be intimate.

Maybe he just wanted to hear everything that happened? Every other detail I left out. Maybe he didn't want to ask, for fear of traumatizing me further.  Maybe he just wanted to understand why I suddenly left New York for a wild hunch,  risking my life in the process, just to find my biological father in a foreign country with Enzo's help.

Or maybe...Miles was jealous of how much time I was spending with Enzo lately? And now he said he wanted me to go back to Brichese with him. Was he serious?

"D'you remember that day?" Miles stroked the back of my head and heaved a sigh, his grin stretching his lips and stubbled jowls. "First time we met?"

"Why?"

"I expected nothing after that."

I sat still on his lap, slightly dumbfounded by the memory.

"But I saw you again." He smiled weakly. "Didn't think it was more than a coincidence."

What? Why was he telling me this? What for? What was he trying to say?

"I already liked you then; I didn't even know."

What the heck's he talking about?

"But this... It doesn't make up for...my shortcomings." He hugged me tighter till I couldn't breathe properly. "For everything that, I let happen.  But don't ever think I regret that day."

The tears fell on my cheek.  My chest ached at his words.  I hastily wiped off the tears and pulled back to stare at him.   "Then why do you act like you do?"

Miles sighed, frowned, and then turned his face away from me. Like he was almost exhausted by the  conversation.

It only worsened my anxiety.  "You keep pushing me away. Won't even let me talk to you." I paused and took in a deep breath to steady my voice.  My chest just felt like it was burning up. "So, I thought, why not just...do something that would matter?"  I shrugged weakly.  "I just wanted to find out. Just wanted to know if he's still alive.  Maybe meet him in person. Instead of crying over stupid things. Insecurities. Worthless feelings."

"Stupid things?" Miles grabbed my arm it felt like he would crush my bones with his fingers.

"You're hurting me."

He let go. He focused on my eyes with a hardened gaze.  "So all this, it's just stupid to you now? Worthless?"

"Yeah." I held back a sob.  My chest hurt like something heavy weighed my entire body down. But, no. No more crying.  At this point, my badly bruised self-esteem just refused to let him have the upper hand.  "Why dwell on thoughts that just make me lonely and depressed I can't even sleep at night? It's exhausting, y'know? You don't even care to ask how I'm doing."

"How many times do I have to explain it to you?" Miles got up from the bed, forcing me to stand up. "You need to stay away." He cussed. "I can't take chances—"

"No.  I'm done. I don't want your piss-poor excuses! You just want me out of your life. You want me gone." I smothered a sob with my arm.  "You wish we never met."

"No. That's not—"

"Just say it. Don't lie and try to—"

"Do I regret that I let you stay without considering the worst? Of course I regret it! I should, Mykaela. I dragged you into this fucking mess and look where it got you!"

"Last night wasn't..."  I bit back tears and stepped away from him, flummoxed, desperate for clarifications.

So he thought it was all his fault? Why?

I never blamed him.  I never made him feel like I regretted meeting him or his family.  Why did he think I would blame him?  "I never said it was your fault."

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"I thought I'd find you in an unmarked grave somewhere in that fucked up island."

The gentleness in his voice matched the softness of his touch. I stayed still as he held my face, both of us back on the bed, his thumb caressing my bruised and aching cheek.  Miles was holding back, but the skin around my left eye and cheekbone felt raw.

That monster had assaulted me.  Terrified me.  I didn't even want to think about it, but my brain couldn't block out the sickening memories.

"I'll end that son of a bitch." Miles stopped touching me and rested on his back.  His knuckle was already turning white while he fisted it on his forehead.

I didn't move one bit. I kept silent. As difficult as the task seemed, I had to show him I was feeling better and that I preferred him calm right now.  Just the intensity of his gaze...  Clearly he wouldn't sleep until I told him everything that happened in San Pietro.

"Beautiful island, though," was all I said, ignoring his threatening tone.  Yeah. Deflection.  I just wanted to sleep off the fatigue and horrific memories—not recall every single one of them.

"Just owned by a bunch of filthy rich lunatics." Miles shook his head weakly.

"Do they really own it?" I muttered. It was possible. The Tomassinis were that influential. I even heard of Enzo's uncle being a high-ranking government official.  I never asked for details, though.  Meeting his older brother guaranteed that keeping out of their private lives was the right choice.

"I was fuckin' terrified. Couldn't sleep." Miles sighed. His scowl deepened the crease between his dark brows. His voice faltered, showing just how affected he was.

It left a heavy ache in me. The brutal honesty in his voice just struck my conscience.  Should I apologize again?

The guilt...just too much to ignore.  He must've been as scared as I was. Scared I would never escape that place alive.

"Sorry."

"You're so stubborn." Miles stayed on the bed.  Awkward, noiseless seconds went on while he stared at the ceiling.  "I want to slit that fuckup's throat. Then burn him alive."

"Stop it.  I'm fine." I looked away.  His threats were really making me uneasy now. "I'm good," I said to convince him, but also to convince myself.

A half-grin showed his dimple. "Shit."  Miles faintly shook his head again.  "I really hope so."

I let out a long sigh and snuggled to him. My hands rested on his tense shoulders. The single bed felt surprisingly big enough for us both.  I leaned on the left half of his body, almost hugging him, and it might just be the best medicine ever.

Right this moment, I couldn't care less about the wounds and bruises.  I had him all to myself, and it couldn't feel any better.   "I'm here. Alive. That's what's important."

"What did you even do in Serbia?"  He scowled.

"I...asked for Enzo's help. He picked me up in New York. We arrived in Belgrade the next morning," I replied.  "He had to take care of something, so I met up with his contact."  I leaned closer to Miles and touched the smooth skin below his collarbone, my hands liking the warmth of his chest.  "Some guy was contacting me and telling me information about my father. Then I...find out it's Nicco I'm meeting with at a restaurant."

"So Lorenzio just left you out there to figure it out on your own." Miles scoffed. The shadows didn't mask the anger in his eyes.

"You need sleep," was all I replied.  Distract him. Comfort him.  I needed to keep him calm and in control of his emotions.

The unpredictable mood swings must be bothering him a great deal.  His behavior now bothered me more, though.  It hinted that he wanted to stay close to me, which was surprising to say the least.  Just weeks before, he wouldn't even answer my messages. Or calls. Basically any of my pleas to get his attention.

"Thanks. For looking for me."

"You're not talking to that lying asshole again." Miles sat up and watched my reaction with droopy eyes and a frown. He looked exhausted. Troubled. Like me.  "Let's just set that straight now."

He was telling me to stop communicating and never meet up with Enzo again.

Darn it.  Should I promise him that?  It seemed impossible.  But if it would give Miles the peace of mind he needed, then fine.

"Okay."  I gently placed my forehead on his arm. "I'm not gonna."

"Yeah. Sure," he mumbled.

"Do you still get...pain attacks?"

Miles stilled. When I didn't say anything else, he got up and left me on the bed.

"Do you?" Despite the pain in my muscles, I got up to grab his hand and  sat beside him.

He didn't push me away this time, thankfully. "Why?"

"You really have to ask?" I scoffed. "I worry about you."

"I have my meds."

Meds. He had his meds. As in the cardiac arrest-inducing concoction of cocaine, heavy painkillers and sedatives? Who was his careless doctor? Or did he get the drugs through Ricchar's contacts?

"Why're you lookin' at me like that?"

I glanced away and sighed, perplexed. As if he didn't know what I was thinking...

We sat on the bed for a while. Not even talking. Then he touched my hand to clasp it. A weak grin slanted his lips, like he was internally trying to talk himself out of his frustrations.

"You can't keep taking those. They're just treating the symptoms, making your liver worse."

He shrugged lightly. "Seem to work fine for me."

"So you wanna die of overdose?" I gripped his nape to make him face me. If only he'd let me, I'd facilitate  regular pain management sessions for him so he wouldn't have to shove drugs down his throat every time the darned pain attacks recurred.

"No."

"Then quit it. The drugs are just temporary relief."

"I would if I could." He cupped my face and leaned in to kiss me gently on the lips.  "Just sit tight. We're going straight to the hospital."

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