Home>>read Torture to Her Soul free online

Torture to Her Soul(70)

By:J.M. Darhower


'I've always dreamed about going to Italy.'

'I know.'

I answered quietly, absent-mindedly, not even realizing what I was doing until I turned my head and looked at Karissa, drawing me back into the moment, out of a past that ended prematurely.

At the end, I ultimately pulled out the ring, ignoring everything that stood against me because of something Karissa said: 'I don't want to walk away from you. I'm never going to.'

She swore she meant it.

I'm still trying to take her at her word.

Looking away from Karissa, I glance down at her hand, eyes lingering on her bare ring finger for a moment before turning to face the Rome skyline.

"Why don't we get dressed and go explore?" I suggest.

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

"I wish I had a camera," she says, looking around. "It's so beautiful. I never want to forget it."

"Go shower," I say, motioning back toward the room. "I got you covered."

The water is just starting up in the bathroom when I pull on some clothes—jeans and a white t-shirt—and head for the door. I slip out without saying anything to Karissa and am back within twenty minutes, holding a shopping bag from the store down the street. When I step back into the room, Karissa is standing there in nothing but a towel, hoards of clothes dumped out from her bags and covering the bed.

"For you," I say, hesitating before dropping the shopping bag right on top of her things. Brow furrowed, she looks inside the bag and gasps. I don't know much about cameras… it's black and made by Canon. The man at the shop said it was the top of the line and the price tag certainly reflected that notion.

"Jesus, Naz, you didn't have to do that!" she says, pulling it out and holding it up. "We could've grabbed one of those disposable ones, you know… they're like five bucks. This is…"

"Worthy of Rome," I say as my phone in my pocket starts vibrating, the familiar beeps ringing out. "Charge the battery and we'll head out."

I pull the phone from my pocket as I step out onto the balcony again for some privacy. Ray. My signal is decent here in Rome, good enough that I know I can carry on a conversation with the man, but I'm hesitant to answer.

The ringing stops within seconds and I stare at the blank screen, not at all surprised when it starts up again almost immediately. I press the answer button as I sit down on the edge of a lounge chair. "Yeah."

"You're alive."

There's no humor in his voice.

No sarcasm.

It makes my insides coil.

Genuine question.

"Why wouldn't I be?" I ask.

"Well, I haven't seen you around. Figured something must've happened to you. It's not like you to stay away so much."

"I've just been busy."

"Is that right?"

"Yes."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were avoiding me," Ray says. "You aren't avoiding me, are you?"

"Of course not."

"Good to know," he says. "I'm down at Cobalt. Come have a drink with me. We'll chat."

"I would if I could," I reply. "I'm out of town."

"Yeah? Where you at?"

"Rome."

"Rome," he echoes. "That's a little more than out of town, Vitale. That's a whole different country. Something come up?"

"No, it's not business," I say. "It's personal."

He's quiet, so quiet I'd think he hung up if I couldn't hear the clatter of the club in the background. I wait him out, sitting in silence. It takes nearly a full minute before he speaks again. "You took the Rita girl to Italy?"

"I did."

He's quiet, again, but not as long this time. "The misses is having a dinner party next weekend. Saturday. I know you've been busy, but I'd like it if you found the time to come."

"I'll be there."

"Good," he says. "And bring the girl with you."

The line goes dead before I can conjure up a response to that. Sighing, I just sit there, reveling in the silence for a moment, taking a moment of peace for myself. I clutch the phone in both hands, my elbows resting on my legs, as I stare at nothing, trying to clear my head.

The glass door from the room slides open after a while. I glance that way as Karissa stalls in the doorway, wearing a sleeveless flowered dress that falls just above her knees.

"We just have to wait on the thingy to turn green," she says, holding a user's manual in her hand, her eyes scanning it. It's bigger than the one for the coffee machine I bought her, but she didn't hesitate to utilize this one.

"Waiting on the thingy," I repeat, "to turn green."

"Yep." She glances at me. "It shouldn't take too long, right?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."