Breathless & Bloodstained (The Chicago War #4) (28 page)

The only thing Tommas
had ever wanted.

He was only now
beginning to realize that to get what he wanted, to get Abriella, he was going
to have to give up something else.

“A guarantee,”
Tommas said.

“Of what?” Joel
asked.

“My position.
Nothing more.”

Joel sucked in air
through his teeth, and leaned back in his chair. “Why are you giving up,
Tommas?”

“Because I have
nothing left to lose.”

“I haven’t taken
very much from you, old friend. I would say you’ve taken far more from me,
actually.”

Joel had no idea
what he had taken from Tommas, but she was sitting just across the table with
wetness shimmering along her bottom lashes and her teeth cutting into her
bottom lip. Everything that was anything to Tommas Rossi was three feet away
with her heart bleeding and her soul crying.

Tommas had done
that.

He simply wanted
to fix it.

“I’m tired,”
Tommas admitted, shrugging. “I don’t want to do it anymore, Joel. What else do
you need to know?”

Joel clasped his
hands over his midsection. “A guarantee, you said.”

“Yes.”

“Like what,
Tommas?”

Tommas smiled. “Like
a marriage. There’s no better way to cement loyalties, offer forgiveness, wipe
slates, and apologize in this life than a marriage, Joel.”

“Between you and
who else?” Joel asked quietly.

“You know who,”
Tommas said. “I wanted her to be here for a reason. Your sister. I want a
marriage to your sister as a guarantee for what I’m giving you, and nothing
more.”

Abriella sucked in
a hard breath. The sound echoed in the near silent dining room. It felt laced
with pain, rage, and disbelief all rolled into one. Tommas had all he could do
not to look at his lover again.

He was doing this
for her.

Didn’t she
understand?

“It’s certainly an
interesting offer to—”

Joel’s words were
cut off by the screech of chair legs against tile. Abriella stood from her
chair with her hands clenched into tight fists at her sides.

“No,” she
whispered. “Absolutely not.”

Joel cocked a brow
as he regarded his sister. “I beg your pardon, Abriella? This isn’t your choice
to make. Sit down.”

Tommas swallowed
the lump forming in his throat that threatened to keep him quiet. “Please sit,
Abriella.”

She didn’t. Her
gaze never moved from Tommas, either.

“I won’t marry him
like that,” Abriella said “I won’t marry him at all for those reasons.”

The pain her words
caused was the harshest kind of pain. It was the kind of agony that you didn’t
immediately feel ripping into your nervous system, but instead, the shock of
the immediate injury left you numb all over and unable to think, move, or
react. Then, when the numbness subsided and you could finally feel again, the
pain was immeasurable.

Unbearable.

Tommas hid his
well.

Somehow.

“Abriella!” Joel
snarled. “Sit down!”

“Not like that,”
Abriella repeated, still looking at Tommas.

His pain ebbed
away.

Not like that.

She wouldn’t do it
like this.

He heard her
unspoken words.

Tommas finally
took a real breath.

Abriella glanced
to the side, her gaze cutting into her brother. “I won’t do it.”

With those words,
she stepped aside, slammed the chair into the table, and left the room without
a single glance back. Joel spluttered to come up with a response.

Tommas found
Damian staring at him, waiting for something—anything.

Slowly, Tommas
stood from his seat. “We’ll go.”

Damian followed
his cousin’s lead, standing and pushing his chair in without a word.

“She’ll do as I
tell her to,” Joel said.

Tommas shook his
head, knowing Abriella far better than her fool of a brother did. “I won’t
force her down the aisle to meet me.”

Joel’s gaze
narrowed, but the man said nothing.

Tommas didn’t
mind. “Damian?”

“Yeah?”

“I think this
dinner is over. Let’s go.”

Damian nodded.
“Whatever you want, Tommy.”

“Your offer is
still on the table, isn’t it?” Joel asked.

Tommas looked at
Joel, cold and numb inside.

He didn’t answer.

But frankly,
Tommas didn’t have to.

“Boss?”

Tommas’ attention
on the buildings passing the car by as it sped through the city was enough to
lull him into a daze. It was one of the things he hated the most about being in
the backseat of a car while someone chauffeured him around. Boredom found him
far too easily. Add in the fact that Tommas had gotten his new Mercedes to
replace the old one, and couldn’t sit in the front like he preferred, and his
annoyance jumped higher.

“Boss?”

“What, Nate?”
Tommas asked.

“The streets are
quiet,” the enforcer noted.

“Is that a
problem?”

“No. I was just
making an observation. You’re awfully quiet lately, too.”

Tommas sighed,
rubbing at his right temple with two fingers. “You know I’m not angry with you,
right?”

Nate swallowed
audibly. “Yeah, boss, I know.”

“You did what I
told you to, Nate. There’s nothing else to say. Stop trying to fill the silence
and pick my brain to find out if there’s something I’m not saying to you. It’s
done, man. It happened. You did your job.”

“And fucked it up
at the same time.”

“Yeah, well—”

Tommas’ words were
interrupted by the ring of his phone. He recognized the unfamiliar tune
instantly. It was only unfamiliar because he’d changed the tune for the phone
number, and that number hadn’t called his very damned much.

Abriella
.

He hadn’t seen her
since the dinner two evenings ago.

Tommas pulled his
phone out and pressed the device to his ear. “Ella?”

“Tommy?”

His relief felt as
good as sex and damn near like being high.

He’d waited for
her call.

Wanted it.

His fingers itched
just hearing her voice.

Fuck, why was he
so goddamn crazy like this?

What was it about
Abriella that made Tommas so insane?

“Yeah, baby,”
Tommas said, “it’s me. Who else?”

Abriella’s laugh
was quiet, strained, and broken at the end. The sound tore into him, promising
to hurt and feel damn good at the same time. “Where are you?”

“Just driving.
Nothing important.”

“I’m at school.”

“Okay.”

“How far are you
from the college?” she asked.

Tommas’ heart
clenched at her whispered question. “About twenty minutes. Why?”

“Darryl had an
appointment during my third and fourth period class. It’s a two-hour class, no
break. Maybe he thought it would be safe and I wouldn’t know. I’m not sure, but
I heard him telling Joel about it this morning. I left the class knowing he
wasn’t outside watching for me. Tommy?”

“What, Ella?”

“I really need
you.”

Tommas’ fingers
dug into his thigh through his dress pants hard enough to hurt. “Why? What’s
wrong?”

“I just …”

“Ella, tell me.”

“I’m not okay,”
she said, a sadness coating her every word. “I’ve tried to be okay, and I
pretended for a long time. I just wanted to feel like I was in control, because
everybody else needed to hurt and I had to be strong. I can’t do it anymore.
Please come get me. I’m at the west wing exit. I need to breathe for a while.”

Tommas didn’t even
question her.

He understood.

Christ.

Of course, he did.

His lungs were
finally taking in air again simply because she called.

Tommas barely had
time to swing the back door open and Abriella was tumbling into the seat on top
of him. Her messenger bag fell on the floor of the car as the door slammed
shut. She seemed to forget all about her bag the moment she had Tommas in her
sights.

Something was
wrong with his girl.

Her gaze was
pained.

Tears dampened her
lashes.

A tiredness edged
around her eyes.

Tommas’ air was
knocked from the lungs when Abriella’s arms found his middle and hugged tight.
Her embrace was strong enough to hurt, but he reveled in the ache. He held her
tight, too, wrapping one arm around her back while his free hand tangled into
her hair and rooted her against his form.

She trembled all
over.

Her breaths
stuttered.

Quiet, breathless
sobs slipped from her lips while her shoulders heaved. Abriella buried her face
into his chest, he felt her teeth clench, and the wetness of her tears soaked
into his dress shirt.

“
Shhh
,”
Tommas said, murmuring the words into Abriella’s sweet-smelling hair. “Whatever
it is, it’s okay. I got you, Ella.”

She nodded, but
her soft crying continued. It cut him to the fucking core, making him bleed on
the inside where no one else could see. This woman shouldn’t cry—not with him.

“Boss?” Nate asked
from the front.

Tommas sucked in a
deep gulp of air, remembering who else was in the car with them. “Drive, Nate.”

“To where?”

“Anywhere. Just
drive. I’ll tell you when to stop.”

“All right, boss.”

Abriella’s crying
eventually turned into painful, gasping sobs as the car sped through quiet
streets. Tommas barely recognized the buildings passing them by as he was far
too focused on wiping the streaks of tears from his lover’s face.

“Ella, talk to me,”
he demanded gently.

“My mom,” she
managed to say.

Tommas flinched,
remembering her words from the earlier phone call. She had to be strong, she’d
said. Everyone else wasn’t. He’d seen her at the funeral, hiding her pain and
seemingly more distant than ever in her blue eyes.

Did she think her
grief didn’t matter?

Were her tears
held at bay for others to cry instead?

“Oh, baby, I’m
sorry.”

Abriella shook her
head, hid her face from his view, and curled into his embrace until her legs
were tucked to her chest and he was cradling her in the back seat. Tommas
didn’t mind. Not at all.

“I just want to
breathe, Tommas,” Abriella mumbled. “Please let me breathe.”

“Whatever you
need, babe.”