The Vows We Break - Serena Akeroyd Page 0,70

answers simply, and she presses another piece of ice to my mouth like it’s a pacifier and she’s trying to keep me quiet. “All I do is for you.” Her smile is a delight to behold, but it’s painful too. “That should be a song. Wait, isn’t it one? Wasn’t that a Bryan Adams song? All for—” Her attention drifts. “No, that’s ‘All For Love.’” Her smile turns rueful. “Same difference, I suppose.” Then she lifts her hand, presses a finger to her lips, and like that, a knock sounds at the door.

How the fuck does she do that?

I flinch, but when she pulls it open, I see two carabinieri standing there.

“Ma’am, you’re still here?”

The policeman’s surprise is clear.

“He was attacked. To wake up alone is cruel,” she replies with a shrug.

“You speak good Italian,” the other praises, and I can see from the glint in his eye that he’s attracted to her.

I can’t blame him.

She’s sexy.

With her ruffled hair, which she hasn’t even bothered to gel, her angelic face, and a body made for sin, why wouldn’t any red-blooded man fall for her?

She bewilders me by being coy, tilting her chin to the side in a way that reminds me of the stupid games men and women play.

“Thank you. I’ve been studying a long time for this trip.”

“I’m just sorry you had to witness this on your first visit to Rome.” The first cop shakes his head, and I don’t know why I look, but I see his hand has a faint marking from where a wedding band once lay.

Great, more competition.

I almost roll my eyes at the thought.

She turns to look at me, and I see mischief on her face before she erases all expression and says, “I can’t believe that man did this to him.”

The second cop grunts, but he turns his attention to me. His face becomes harder, but there’s no accusation there.

I have no idea how tonight went so wrong. Where the cops came from, or why it went down the way it did. I have no idea why my hands aren’t tied to the bed—because they’re not. It feels like my fingers are broken for some stupid reason, but they’re not tied down.

I expected to end the night in a jail cell.

I didn’t tell Andrea that.

I knew she’d have protested, but there was only one way to end Corelli’s reign, and that was for me to be sent down.

To finally repent in a house loaded with others of my kind—sinners to the core.

Either that or for one of Corelli’s guards to have put a bullet between my eyes as payment for killing their boss—I doubted that though, because they were all Catholic. Shitty Catholics, but supposedly religious men, and killing a priest? Yeah, that was a one-way ticket to hell.

But instead of death or a jail cell, I wake up here.

With Andrea at my side and the police standing over me, looking at me with curiosity but no accusation.

Nothing about this is going down how it was supposed to, and I wonder if that isn’t going to be the story of my life from now on. Now that she’s here, changing everything.

My guide.

My angel.

I blink, a little dazed, when the officer says, “Father? Can you answer some questions?”

“He’s only just woken up, officer,” Andrea protests.

“We need answers, ma’am,” the second cop replies regretfully.

“I already told you what happened,” she complains. “I saw it all! The other guy was getting in the priest’s face. It all happened so fast too. Suddenly, there was a knife, and he plunged it into the Father’s stomach. I don’t even know how the Father did it, but he grabbed the handle, pulled it out, then swiped. Then there was just...” She releases a shaky breath, and because I know her a little more than the police, I can tell it isn’t fake. The blood, the sheer quantity of it, surprised her. “There was so much blood. It was everywhere.”

I shoot the officers a stunned look. “Did you hear about Gianni’s death?”

The first officer steps forward. “I’m Esposito, Father. And Gianni? You mean the hobo?”

“Yeah. I found him today. I took Corelli’s confession, that’s why I went to see him. I tried to contain my distress, but I had to confront him. I went to him with peace in mind,” I lie. “I wanted him to go to the police. But he wouldn’t. When we went outside, he started to get aggressive. The young lady has it right. It played