Twisted CravingsCora Reilly (The Camorra Chronicles #6) - Cora Reilly Page 0,116

it’s not who you want to be. If Dima ever really loved you, he must realize it.”

Dinara raised her head. “What Dima and I had wasn’t really love, I realize that now that I’m with you.”

“Because you love me.”

Dinara gave me a strange smile. “You really want me to say it more often, don’t you?”

I kissed her. “Oh definitely.”

The dancing around us got wilder, stirring up dust. Many people began singing along to the songs, most of them without having a clue about the actual lyrics.

“Let’s join them,” Dinara said, setting her beer bottle down on the ground.

“I thought you’d never ask.” I shoved to my feet and pulled her along with me. When we joined the dancers, a few of them hesitated, obviously still unsure about us after the killer couple rumors Crank had told me about, but soon the music and alcohol carried away their tension and we became part of the camp again.

Dinara laughed as we stumbled along to the music in an uncoordinated but fun line-dance formation. Her eyes locked on mine, her face illuminated beautifully by the fire. This wasn’t fake happiness. No pretend laughter. Darkness was a part of both Dinara and me, but we’d banished it to a faraway spot in us. It didn’t rule over our lives.

It was almost three in the morning when Dinara and I finally went to bed in our tent. We weren’t drunk but a gentle buzz filled my body. After making love, we fell asleep in each other’s arms.

Dinara’s tossing and turning, and unintelligible mumbles woke me from my own nightmare—the same one that haunted me for years, but other than in the past, I didn’t wake covered in sweat and with my heart beating in my throat. The nightmare had altered since Dinara and I had started our vengeance trip. Now I always managed to free myself from my restraints eventually and fought my torturers. It seemed my nightmares now allowed me my revenge.

Dinara’s breathing slowed once she woke and I kissed her cheek. “I wish the nightmares would have died with my abusers,” she whispered into the dark.

“Eventually they will fade or maybe they’ll change,” I said then told her about my own altered nightmare.

“I’m still surprised that you never sought revenge against the people who tortured you. You have the Camorra at your back.”

“Revenge against the Outfit, especially their Capo and his Underbosses wouldn’t change anything, it would only continue an endless spiral of violence and revenge. You could end everything by killing your abusers, but in a war, revenge only leads to more violence. What happened to me wasn’t personal.”

Dinara let out a strangled laugh. “I think getting tortured is pretty personal.”

“It wasn’t about me, it was about Remo. My pain was revenge for Remo’s actions, and if I took revenge in turn it would lead to a new act of revenge from the Outfit.”

“A never-ending spiral of violence.”

“I want to live in the present and for the future. The past is the past.”

“For the first time in my life, I want the same. The past is dead, and I’m really excited about our future.”

“It’s going to be a crazy ride in many ways.”

Dinara hummed her approval.

“There are only two more races before the season’s over and most people will return to their families for Christmas. Only a few stay in camp, like Crank, and celebrate together.”

“We don’t celebrate Christmas in December. The orthodox Christmas is in January, so maybe I’ll stay in camp until January.”

Over my dead body. “I want you to celebrate Christmas with me and my family in Las Vegas.”

She froze in my arms. “I’m not part of your family. I’m sure your brothers and their families don’t want me there.”

I hadn’t asked my brothers yet but I loved Dinara and wanted to spend the holidays with her. I doubted Kiara and Serafina would have anything against it. Remo was very protective of our mansion, so I wasn’t sure about his reaction. And then there were Savio and Gemma. They both were absolutely easy-going under normal circumstances but half of Gemma’s family had been killed by the Bratva, so they might be biased in their opinion of Dinara. I kept those thoughts to myself. I would find a way to convince my family that Dinara wasn’t a threat. “My family should meet you and what better way to do it than for Christmas? They’ll love you like I do.”

“I’m not someone who has a long list of fans. I’m not

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