Life Is A Living Hell

Chapter 31 You Have Me (rewritten)

How do you go back to being strangers
with someone who has seen your soul?
-Nikita Gill
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Olivia Brown

"What made you think that?" Anton asked sincerely.

Maybe because you fucked another woman the very next night!

But I couldn't say that, he wasn't my boyfriend, and I didn't even know if we were considered as friends. I wasn't jealous. I was just...okay, a bit jealous. However, I felt pain more than jealousy.

That night meant something to me that I couldn't describe. Whereas for him, he was used to having one-night stands with a different woman every night. I wasn't. I had only been with two men in my entire life. That guy I drunkenly lost my virginity to and Antonio.

"Because you were cold and angry afterwards," I sighed.

Playing with my hair, he repeated thoughtfully. "Cold and angry."

"Yeah, but I wasn't angry with you." He brought my face closer to his, leaving just an inch between us.

"It wasn't a mistake. And I will fucking do it again." He crashed his lips against mine, kissing me slowly, taking his time. This kiss wasn't like the other kisses we had shared. The other times, he would always kiss me hard with rage. In contrast, this kiss held so much passion. He kissed me in a such a way you would have thought he  wanted to bury this memory in his mind.

"You taste so good," he said hoarsely against my lips. 

"You need to sleep," I mumbled. Reluctantly, he let me go.  He was staring at me with his dark eyes as I was taking off his clothes. He had this smile on his face that I didn't quite understand.

"What're you smiling at?" The corners of my mouth turned up.

"Nothing. Just... I like watching you." His dark eyes bore into mine.

He was just in his boxers, I put the cover over him. I was going to leave, but he took a hold around my wrist.

"Sleep here," he demanded with his deep voice. He actually looked a bit disappointed, thinking I was leaving him and not coming back.

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm just going to get you some water and an Advil," I said softly. He nodded and slowly released my wrist. In the kitchen, I poured some water into a glass, and took the medicine. Heading back to his room, I thought perhaps he had fallen asleep, but he was wide awake. I put the water and the medicine on his bedside table.

"Take this tomorrow," I said, standing close to the door, contemplating if I should leave. He lifted the cover for me.

"Take off your clothes." I gave him a look.

"You can wear my t-shirt," he added. I went to his walk-in closet, stripping off my clothes, leaving me only in my underwear. I put on one of his white shirts, which apparently was see-through. I was too tired to change, and besides, he had already seen all of me. I went back to the bedroom.

Anton's gaze went up and down on me. Licking his lips, he whispered. "Come here." Slowly, I got under the covers. We were both on our sides, gazing at each other. He seemed to have sobered up a bit.

His hand was on my cheek, stroking it with his thumb.

I had never seen Antonio so relaxed and calm before. I wanted to know more about him. How was his childhood? Any siblings? Family? Did he live in an orphanage, and for how long?

"How did you end up in the orphanage?" I asked quietly, kind of scared of his reaction. He tensed; his hand abruptly left my cheek. Perhaps he didn't want to share that kind of information with me. Did I have to ask him that? His whole body went from calm and relaxed to tensed and closed off.

He cleared his throat. "Catherine gave birth to me, and not even a day after she left me to the system. The only thing I've that belongs to her, is that shit of a bracelet," he said coldly. I stayed quiet the entire time.

It must have been hard to be abandoned. No mother, no father, no family—just a bunch of strangers.

He chuckled humourlessly. "It's kind of funny that on the bracelet, she wrote 'I'm always with you, even in the dark.' When she hasn't been in my life, yeah...since my life started." He rolled onto his back, facing the ceiling. Clearly, he was furious with her, but somewhere along the line, he still cared. He still had that bracelet.

"Do you know who your father is?" I murmured. He exhaled a long breath, closed his eyes, and shook his head. "No."

"Do you want to know?" He shook his head.

"Don't ask more questions about those fuckers who brought me to this world. Because I have no fucking answers, I don't know anything. And I don't want to know," he said harshly.

Okay, no more questions about his parents.

"How was it, in the orphanage, I mean?" My voice came out as a whisper.

"Worst period of my life. I got beaten up all the time until I turned ten. When I was ten I began training so I could defend myself. Before that, my body was always covered in bruises. They beat me up, then they took all my stuff that I had gotten from the staff. I couldn't go to the staff, either, to tell them. They saw my bruises, yet the staff didn't care. I was helpless.

When I began training I could defending myself. I got stronger, and the advantage of being tall helped me. Then Diego came to the same orphanage as me when I was eleven. We quickly became friends. And nobody dared to fuck with us." He took a deep breath and continued.

"When we were fifteen, we ran away. We were homeless and poor for a month. We stole food and lived in different places every night. Essentially, we tried to survive. Then we came up with an idea. We wanted our own mob of homeless, poor youths, like us. We wanted our own army, so we could survive together. After that, we began collecting people. Then it came to the point that we didn't need to go after people, they came to us. And that was how the Romanos started." Somewhere throughout his story, I had scooted closer to him. So close that I could feel the heat from his body. He was still facing the ceiling, his hands behind his head. His muscles were flexed, they were huge.

He had gone through so much at such a young age. I felt sad. He was so young. I remembered how it was for me when I was fifteen. When Mateo ordered me to go to a club and seduce an old man, I was so scared and confused. However, there was a difference between him and me, he was mature for his age, both when he was fifteen and now. And he was a leader. It's a powerful and difficult position, there was a lot of responsibility, not to mention danger.

"How come you became the boss and not Diego?" I questioned curiously.

"You're cute, all curious." He smiled down at me. "Before Diego came to the orphanage, he lived with a good, loving foster family. He lived with them for six years. Somehow, he fucked up, so they sent him to the same orphanage as me. He had a taste of a good, loving family, and he wants to have one of his own. You know, kids and shit. So instead of taking on a dangerous role as the boss, he took on the role of the right hand. I don't want a family of my own or kids, so the role fits me perfectly. I'm not afraid of death, and nobody would care either if I got killed, since I don't have anyone to care," he said so coldly and lifelessly, it worried me.

I took his head in my hands, stared deeply at his blank eyes.

"That's not true. You have the guys, you have...me," I breathed out.

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