[ D O M I N I C O ] “What d'you want?” “Un semplice 'grazie' può bastare.” [A simple 'thank you' would suffice.] I don't respond and rush into the busy hallway. No longer handcuffed. Free to walk out of this shithole, at last. Despite the time, half of the precinct is still buzzing with activity. Where the fuck is my phone? No one mentioned how much longer I'm supposed to wait for it out here. I glance at my watch. If nothing else comes up, I'll be home before two. I'll be in my bed by four at the latest if Enzo and Mamma decide to show up. Clenching my jaw, I stifle a yawn and walk past another interrogation room, my head just about spinning. I'm still wrapping my mind around what just happened. After hours of waiting and skirting redundant, mostly half-baked questions, I narrowly escaped two criminal charges — thanks to this meddling prick showing up out of nowhere. But it's not the end of the animosity between us. The bitter taste in my mouth remains. And I don't plan
[ D O M I N I C O ] After we pass by a busy intersection, the drive turns agonizingly slow. No thanks to the rain pelting the windshield and blurring my driver's view. We're ten minutes away. If I were the one behind the wheel, I'll say five, even in this weather. I need to see her now. Talk to her. Ask her questions I need answers to. I'll try not to turn it into another stupid fight about her ex and their friendship. Merely thinking about them talking and being in the same room still sets my teeth on edge. I slap my phone on my thigh. It's quiet unlike most days. Enzo still won't return my calls, which can only mean three things: 1) he's behind bars and not allowed to use gadgets 2) he's busy entertaining and showing off his new girlfriend, or 3) someone working for Pappa and Leandro or the Falcos kidnapped him, and now Enzo's probably dying in a ditch somewhere “Merda.” [Shit.] It's not just paranoia. Or anxiety. This isn't just my pessimism talking. If Pappa and L
[ S E R A P H I N E ] I almost gasp at the muffled sound of his voice. Shucks. My nose and eyes still look pinkish. I steel myself beside the sink, anticipating a knock. “Sephie,” he says in a slightly louder voice. I open the door and cross the threshold in two quick strides. The look in his tired eyes shows relief and some anxiety. I clasp his sleeve and press my body onto his warmth. “Are you okay?” The front of his shirt muffles the sigh of relief that leaves me the second he's in my arms. Dominico hugs me back and sighs. “Yeah.” The tension in his shoulders ease. His arms around me bring comfort, but my mind continues to buzz with questions. Fears. “You sure?” I pull away to stare at him, my voice slightly quivering even though I no longer feel like crying. On the outside, he looks okay. Just more exhausted. Same plain T-shirt and faded blue pants. No bloodstains or anything. Thank God... “You're not hurt anywhere, or...” I stroke his forearm and warm cheek. I don
[ S E R A P H I N E ] It's almost five in the afternoon. I'm done with my classes, and I feel like throwing up again. “Crap.” I grunt and massage my temples. I'm lying on my back, the faint blue and green lines around the ceiling almost worsening the nausea. My roommate is still nowhere to be found. Not that I'm worried. She's got classes until six every Monday. She won't be here until nine. On weekdays, she and her boyfriend study in the library until late, usually after having dinner together. I have enough privacy for another couple of hours at least. Thankfully. I sigh to myself, sitting on the edge of my bed. Alone again. Too anxious to sleep or eat. The constant, dreary patter against the windows doesn't really help my mood. My heart thuds against my ribs as I stare at the pink boxes next to me. I haven't even opened them yet. I'm still processing what I just did, and what I'm supposed to do right now. It shouldn't be hard at all. Or confusing. I'll just sit in the
[ S E R A P H I N E ] I don't think he saw them. If he did, he would've brought it up before we left the dorms. We're in his car now. I'm buckled up in the backseat, the silence between us only growing more awkward by the minute. We're both lost in our own thoughts, it seems. Thankfully a phone call kept Dominico preoccupied while I was trying not to panic about the pregnancy test kits in my dorm room. I managed to stuff them into my backpack just before we left. My bag sits in my lap. It weighs a ton despite the slight numbness I feel inside. It's weird. I'm probably going insane. Dom sits to my right. Still and quiet. Too quiet. I stare out the window, the passing scenery a familiar blur. My heart's beating a little faster than normal. I don't really know why he wants to talk to me. Nor am I in the mood for another fight about my ex. I still feel sick. It's not simply nausea. I dunno what I would do if ever I actually saw a positive test result. I just don't have th
[ S E R A P H I N E ]It's late. What's he even doing? I flump down on the bed, alone in my dim room, impatient and exhausted. Where is he? Is he okay? It's been two hours. The last messages I sent are still waiting for a response from Dominico. I'm not sure why he still hasn't returned any of my calls. Is he on his way back? Or he's still in that facility? Surely visiting hours are over. Why does Ignazio want him there? What the heck are they talking about? If he's snitched on them more than once? Dominico shouldn't be anywhere near that abusive creep. These days, it's just too risky. Someone like him shouldn't be seen in public. Nor does he need to pay his father a visit.I'm not sure what Ignazio needs from Dominico right now. I just know that ruthless criminal is planning something again. Possibly something big and heinous. Something evil. Just scheming to further his interests as always.“Ugh. Please be okay,” I murmur to no one but myself, resting my arms on my
[ D O M I N I C O ] I grit my teeth. I want to break this desk in half, ruin everything in this room, then kick my own ass for good measure. My head's killing me. I need a break. I need to stop thinking about her. Fantasizing about her and a real future with her. It's just not plausible. And all this daydreaming isn't doing anything but frustrate me to no end. What pisses me off more is the fact that she thinks keeping things between us "platonic" for a while would do anything to repair our relationship. It's not working. Not really. It's not even a good enough Band-Aid solution. I can't function like this every fucking day. It's just not sustainable. I'll go clinically insane before my next appointment with my shrink. A faint knock on the door cuts off my thoughts, my mind suddenly blank for a moment. I check the numbers on my desk clock and scowl. Why is she still up? It can't be Fico or Paolo. More often than not, those idiots don't even bother to knock. My hand
[ S E R A P H I N E ] I'm skipping my class this morning. I'm too haggard, nauseated, sleep-deprived, and too stressed out to think about anything else but him. The sky stays a dingy gray and only a little bluish as I approach the front of Dominico’s house, my keys jangling in my pocket. I don't even wanna be here. I'm just gonna stay here all day in case he needs my help. Every five minutes or so, my brain pictures him all bloody and wounded, riddled with bullet holes, trapped in an old, abandoned warehouse somewhere... Shucks. I'm trying my best to push those thoughts aside. Can't let these dark thoughts win. But it's a challenge. Dominico's last text only says he left the detention facility, and that he's meeting someone. The lack of details eats at my peace of mind. I've tried calling him again. But, no luck. When a car pulls over just outside the gates, my heart jerks. The exhaust doesn't sound anything like the Maserati's, but it's familiar. I stand beside the locked