My Quiet Place

Chapter 59: Sounds

I felt sick.

"Annika," Matteo called. "Eat."

"I can't," I replied, pushing the plate away.

"You need your strength," he ordered.

"I'm fine," I protested. "Annika, you haven't eaten since last night."

"Matteo, maybe--" Matteo cut Diego off. "Don't get involved," Matteo snapped, his voice sharp with frustration. Diego glanced at me, concern etched on his face, before nodding and falling silent. Matteo turned his attention back to me, his gaze intense.

"I can't," I cried out. The mere thought of food made me want to vomit. Matteo stared at me for a moment. I got up from the table, and I went back to the room and sat on the bed. My head was a mess. I wanted to cry, scream, and rage at the world. I wanted to hit something.

But instead, I sat there in silence, feeling the weight of my emotions suffocate me. Matteo followed me into the room, his concern evident in his eyes. He sat down next to me, placing a comforting hand on my back. "Cara mia," he said softly, "talk to me. What's going on?" His gentle tone was a stark contrast to the turmoil raging inside me. I took a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts. "I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Everything is my fault."

Matteo's hand tightened on my back, offering me a silent reassurance. "No, it's not," he replied firmly.

"It is," I insisted. "If I hadn't been so stupid, none of this would have happened. If I hadn't been so stubborn..." My words trailed off as tears threatened to fall. "It's my fault," I repeated, my voice thick with emotion. "It's all my fault."

"Are you fucking crazy?" Matteo's voice rose, filled with disbelief and anger. His grip on my back tightened even more, his frustration evident. "How can you even think that? This is not your fault, not even close." His words were sharp, cutting through the heavy atmosphere that surrounded us.

I looked up at Matteo, my eyes meeting his intense gaze. His words echoed in my mind, trying to break through the guilt that consumed me. But it was hard to believe him, to accept that I wasn't to blame for the mess we found ourselves in. The weight of my choices pressed down on me, suffocating any sense of logic or reason.

He brought me into his chest and wrapped his arms around me, providing a sense of comfort and protection that I desperately needed. His touch was warm and reassuring, a stark contrast to the coldness that had settled within me. In that moment, I allowed myself to lean into him, to let his presence anchor me in the midst of the storm.

"Cara mia," he said, his voice softer than before. "I will make them pay for every tear you've shed. I swear it on my life." His vow sent a shiver down my spine. His words were fierce and determined, promising vengeance and retribution. I buried my face in his chest, inhaling his woodsy scent. His touch grounded me, keeping me from drowning in the darkness that threatened to consume me.

In the chaos and uncertainty of the past few days, he was the only thing I could hold on to.

***

The plane landed, and we were in Germany. a country I had never been to before. The air felt different here. A war we were walking into was palpable in the atmosphere, a tension that seemed to cling to every passing breeze.

"Boss, the car is ready." Matteo nodded at the driver, who stood by a sleek black car with tinted windows. Matteo had security covered from every angle, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief knowing that he had taken every precaution to ensure our safety. As we stepped into the car, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled deep within me. It was as if the weight of the impending danger was pressing down on my chest, making it difficult to breathe. But I knew I had to push through the fear and uncertainty for the sake of the mission.