Dark Saint [Romano Brotherhood, #1]

06 | Nina

Tommaso gives me a weird look. "Yeah? I don't need Santo giving me shit. Plus, I might be a dick, but I can listen sometimes. There's no fun in kicking someone when they're down."

"But you..." Tommaso waits expectantly, but my mouth moves soundlessly for several moments. It doesn't make sense. I know Tommaso is a dick, but he listened to me? He didn't use the fact that I'm crying to discount everything I said? It doesn't compute—so I latch onto something that does.

"You said twice that Santo can't find out I'm crying. Why?"

"You know," he gestures vaguely.

"No, I don't."

"Nina, I once watched Santo torture a man in front of his fifteen-year-old daughter. Granted, the man trafficked young girls—he was a shit person, but he happened to be a good father. He loved his daughter. The last thing he wanted was for her to have to see that. For her to know about all the fucked up shit he did when he wasn't being her father. So that's why Santo made her sit there, right in front of him, as he scooped the man's eyeballs out of the sockets with a—"

"Okay! I don't need to hear that," I shiver, unease slithering through my gut. Not just at the visual, but at how easily Santo could ruin a little girl's life just to hurt her father. It's depraved. But that's who he is—I knew that way before I met him.

"My point is that Santo has always done that shit without caring. Actually," Tommaso smirks, "a part of him enjoys it. So imagine my surprise when, at any little indicator that you're upset or uncomfortable, he goes fucking berserk. He doesn't do that. He doesn't care like that."

A disbelieving laugh explodes from my lips. "Care? You're trying to tell me that the man who dragged me to the basement and put a knife to my throat cares about me?"

Tommaso shrugs. "I'm just saying, he's acting different. We all see it, and it's fucking weird."

"No. You're wrong."

Tommaso's eyes glint arrogantly. "Fucking try me, Nina. I'm not."

"Okay," I shrug, rising to stand. "I'll try you."

Tommaso's right behind me as I head to the door. "What—"

"I'm going to go find Santo. If he cares that I'm crying, it'll be because he's not the one who made me do it. Trust me, I'm familiar with men who get all pissy when somebody else hurts the person they feel entitled to hurting—"

"Oh, God. No, don't do that. He's going to kill me." Tommaso grabs my arm. "Go sit back do—"

"Let go of my arm," I spit with such vitriol that he drops it right away. Then I'm marching forward, not sure what the fuck I'm doing but too far in it now to stop.

"Nah, fuck this. I'm getting the fuck out of here," Tommaso murmurs, and turns the other way, disappearing around the corner.

"Idiot," I mutter.

"I heard that!" he calls. "This is serious shi—ah!" I frown as his words end in an uncharacteristic yelp.

"Why are you yelling by yourself in the hallway? Where is Nina?"

My eyes widen as I hear the low timbre of Santo's voice. It's deep and rough, something about it brimming with chaos and barely restrained anger. I shift uncomfortably.

"Nina's waiting naked in the library. Bye!" Tommaso's quickly retreating footsteps are punctuated by Santo's startled exclamation.

I have a mere three seconds to prepare before his hulking figure rounds the corner. His shoulders are tensed, and they loosen when he spots me, his eyes roaming over my figure like he's checking if I'm actually missing any clothes.