Born in Blood Collection Volume 1 - Cora Reilly Page 0,348

out of the spotlight and away from my father.

The moment people started to head for the coffin to say their last goodbye, I backed away. Nobody stopped me. Nobody even seemed to notice. They were busy putting on their show. I turned and didn’t look back. I rushed down the path, away from the grave, sending pebbles flying as my feet pounded the ground. I wasn’t even sure where I was going. The graveyard was huge, there were plenty of places to find peace and silence. I reached a part that was even more opulent than where Mother had been buried. Rows over rows of old family vaults surrounded me. Most of them were locked but one of the iron gates was ajar. I headed that way, and after having made sure nobody was watching me, I opened it and slipped inside. It was cool in the vault and the smell of mildew drifted into my nose. Everything was made from gray marble. I sank down slowly and sat with my back against the cold wall.

In moments like this I understood why Gianna had run away. I’d never had the urge to leave this life behind forever, but sometimes I wanted to escape at least for a little while.

I knew eventually someone would notice I was missing and come looking for me, but I didn’t even care that Father would lose his shit on me.

It took less than an hour before I heard someone call my name in the distance. I opened my lips to reply but not a sound came out. I rested my head against the marble, and peered out through the bars of the iron gate. So often in my life I’d felt as if I was surrounded by invisible bars, and now I sought shelter behind them. A bitter smile twisted my lips. Steps crunched outside of the vault. I held my breath as someone came into view outside the gate.

A tall form with a familiar frame loomed in front of it. Romero. He hadn’t seen me yet but his eyes scanned their surroundings. They passed right over the spot where I was hiding and he was about to turn away. I could have stayed hidden, alone with my anger and misery and sadness, but suddenly I didn’t want this. For some reason, I wanted Romero to find me. He hadn’t faked tears and he wasn’t family; he was safe. I cleared my throat quietly but of course a man like Romero didn’t miss it. He turned and his eyes zoomed in on me. He headed for me, opened the gate and stepped in with a bent head because he was too tall to stand. He held out his hand for me. I searched his eyes for the pity I hated so much, but he looked merely concerned and maybe even like he cared. I wasn’t sure what to make of his concern when not too long ago he’d done his utmost to stay away from me.

I slipped my hand into his and his fingers closed around me before he pulled me to my feet. The momentum of the movement catapulted me straight into Romero’s arms. I should have pulled back. He should have pushed me back. We didn’t.

It felt good to be so close to someone, to feel his warmth, something my life had seemed so devoid of recently. He slowly backed out of the vault, taking me with him, still holding me close.

“We’ve been looking for you for almost an hour,” Romero said quietly, worriedly, but all I could focus on was how close his lips were and how good he smelled. “Your father will be glad to know you’re safe.”

My father. Anger surged up in me at how he’d acted in the last few months. I was so tired of being angry, of not knowing where to go with my anger. I stepped onto my toes, closed my eyes and pressed my lips against Romero’s. This was the third time I did this. It seemed I never learned, but I wasn’t even scared of being rejected anymore. I was so numb inside, there was no way anything could hurt me again.

Romero’s hands came up to my shoulders as if he was going to shove me away, but then he merely rested them there, warm and strong. He didn’t try to deepen the kiss but our lips moved against each other. There was only the barest touch and even that was over too quickly.