Brutal Winter by Quirah Casey

Brutal Winter by Quirah Casey

Author:Quirah Casey [Casey, Quirah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-04-19T16:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER TWENTY: WINTER

The day passes by quickly but there's a feeling that I can't shake, a feeling of despair and impending doom. My lunch and dinner feel like they're going to come right back up. I toss and turn most of the night, my head throbbing and a deep ache in the pit of my stomach.

When Enzo enters my room for breakfast, I feel like I'm going to pass right out. He looks me over, that cold gaze asking questions that his mouth doesn't. He gestures for me to get up and I do so on shaky legs. The trip down the hall is one that I just barely make and I quickly close the bathroom door behind me, sitting down on the closed toilet seat. I place my head in my hands and take a couple of deep breaths, trying to figure out what in the hell is wrong with me. The trauma that Maximo has instilled is fresh in my mind, but there's also a physical sickness that I can't deny.

After a few moments, I finally get in the shower, the steam of the water helping to clear my head and frankly my nostrils which I hadn't realized felt stuffy. Today there's another pair of jeans, these a little looser than yesterday's and a strapless top that shows off my arms. I cringe at the thought of Maximo still picking out my clothes though I can say without a doubt, I prefer this outfit over the ones that Giovanni had been picking out for me.

I open the door, stepping out into the hall. I spare Enzo a brief glance before heading toward the stairs.

"No," he says, cutting me off.

My feet stop and I whip around to look at him. "What?"

"You're not eating with Giovanni this morning," he says, shaking his head.

I press my lips together, a little confused by the new turn of events.

Is this because I lied to him, or did I do something else wrong? Does he know about what happened with Maximo?

"Okay." I try not to let my nerves show on my face, turning back in the direction of my bedroom. "You'll eat in your room this morning and I'll be back in a few hours to pick you up for your appointment."

My appointment?

"Appointment?" I ask, unable to help the dread that fills my stomach.

Enzo gives his head a shake. "You're going shopping," he says before a crease appears in his forehead and his posture stiffens. "It doesn't matter, eat your food and be ready when I come back for you." His eyes roam to my head. "And comb your hair. If Giovanni finds out it still looks like it got into a fight and lost, he'll be pissed." There's a deeper threat that seems to hand in the air between us but I only nod and walk into my room, slamming the door shut.

I sink down into my bed and wait for my food to be brought to me. When I receive it, it



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