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Torture to Her Soul (Monster in His Eyes #2) Page 52
Author: J.M. Darhower

Looking away from Karissa, I glance down at her hand, eyes lingering on her bare ring finger for a moment before turning to face the Rome skyline.

"Why don't we get dressed and go explore?" I suggest.

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

"I wish I had a camera," she says, looking around. "It's so beautiful. I never want to forget it."

"Go shower," I say, motioning back toward the room. "I got you covered."

The water is just starting up in the bathroom when I pull on some clothes—jeans and a white t-shirt—and head for the door. I slip out without saying anything to Karissa and am back within twenty minutes, holding a shopping bag from the store down the street. When I step back into the room, Karissa is standing there in nothing but a towel, hoards of clothes dumped out from her bags and covering the bed.

"For you," I say, hesitating before dropping the shopping bag right on top of her things. Brow furrowed, she looks inside the bag and gasps. I don't know much about cameras… it's black and made by Canon. The man at the shop said it was the top of the line and the price tag certainly reflected that notion.

"Jesus, Naz, you didn't have to do that!" she says, pulling it out and holding it up. "We could've grabbed one of those disposable ones, you know… they're like five bucks. This is…"

"Worthy of Rome," I say as my phone in my pocket starts vibrating, the familiar beeps ringing out. "Charge the battery and we'll head out."

I pull the phone from my pocket as I step out onto the balcony again for some privacy. Ray. My signal is decent here in Rome, good enough that I know I can carry on a conversation with the man, but I'm hesitant to answer.

The ringing stops within seconds and I stare at the blank screen, not at all surprised when it starts up again almost immediately. I press the answer button as I sit down on the edge of a lounge chair. "Yeah."

"You're alive."

There's no humor in his voice.

No sarcasm.

It makes my insides coil.

Genuine question.

"Why wouldn't I be?" I ask.

"Well, I haven't seen you around. Figured something must've happened to you. It's not like you to stay away so much."

"I've just been busy."

"Is that right?"

"Yes."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were avoiding me," Ray says. "You aren't avoiding me, are you?"

"Of course not."

"Good to know," he says. "I'm down at Cobalt. Come have a drink with me. We'll chat."

"I would if I could," I reply. "I'm out of town."

"Yeah? Where you at?"

"Rome."

"Rome," he echoes. "That's a little more than out of town, Vitale. That's a whole different country. Something come up?"

"No, it's not business," I say. "It's personal."

He's quiet, so quiet I'd think he hung up if I couldn't hear the clatter of the club in the background. I wait him out, sitting in silence. It takes nearly a full minute before he speaks again. "You took the Rita girl to Italy?"

"I did."

He's quiet, again, but not as long this time. "The misses is having a dinner party next weekend. Saturday. I know you've been busy, but I'd like it if you found the time to come."

"I'll be there."

"Good," he says. "And bring the girl with you."

The line goes dead before I can conjure up a response to that. Sighing, I just sit there, reveling in the silence for a moment, taking a moment of peace for myself. I clutch the phone in both hands, my elbows resting on my legs, as I stare at nothing, trying to clear my head.

The glass door from the room slides open after a while. I glance that way as Karissa stalls in the doorway, wearing a sleeveless flowered dress that falls just above her knees.

"We just have to wait on the thingy to turn green," she says, holding a user's manual in her hand, her eyes scanning it. It's bigger than the one for the coffee machine I bought her, but she didn't hesitate to utilize this one.

"Waiting on the thingy," I repeat, "to turn green."

"Yep." She glances at me. "It shouldn't take too long, right?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

Two hours later, the light on the charger is still yellow. Karissa runs around, fixing her hair, putting on makeup, changing shoes half a dozen times, all the while telling me how sorry she is for holding us up. I can only take it for so long before I step in the room and grasp ahold of her hips when she tries to walk past me, locking her in place. "Stop apologizing."

"But—"

As soon as she tries to speak, the light on the charger flickers, turning green. I motion toward it. "See? It's ready."

Ten minutes later, we're finally out the door, camera in her hand, the first shoes she tried on back on her feet. It's still early, barely ten o'clock in the morning as we set off through the streets.

"Where are we going?" she asks.

"Where do you want to go?"

"Anywhere," she says, shrugging.

"Huh."

"What?"

"For someone who dreamed of coming to Italy, you're awfully indecisive."

She rolls her eyes. "Okay, fine. The right answer would've been everywhere. I want to see everything, so I'll go anywhere, really, wherever you take me, because I want to do it all. Better?"

"Better."

We hit the usual tourist spots, museums and churches, taking in the Pantheon, the Piazza Navona, and the Spanish Steps. She snaps picture after picture excitedly, and I just watch her, admiring her enthusiasm. We grab a light lunch at a small café before making our way to the Colosseum. The lines are ridiculously long, but I see Karissa's expression light up as she eyes it, so there's no way we can skip it.

We get in the back of the line to wait. Karissa snaps a few pictures from the outside, taking in the scenery, the picture-perfect little tourist with the camera glued to her face. It's almost like I'm not even around, and that's okay for the moment, I think. Her guard's down, defenses lowered.

It's the whole point in coming here. If it means me being ignored, so be it.

As long as she's happy…

After nearly thirty minutes we're finally to the front. I buy two tickets and we make our way around the winding paths into the Colosseum. Her eyes light up as she takes it the sight of the interior, parts of the ancient amphitheater crumbling and withering away, but even I have to admit it's a magnificent beast of concrete and stone.

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J.M. Darhower's Novels
» Monster in His Eyes (Monster in His Eyes #1)
» Torture to Her Soul (Monster in His Eyes #2)
» Sempre (Forever Series #1)
» Sempre: Redemption (Forever Series #2)