✦ ♡my cigarette man♡ ✦

Chapter ten || bury a friend

"Chloe!" he shouts.

I run colliding into Damiano's comforting, warm arms. I bury my face into his chest while sobbing silently. "Amour mio, I was so worried." I nod into his chest, still too shaken to speak through my quivering lips.

A car door slams shut I feel Damiano's body stiffen. He places two hands on my shoulders and forcefully moves me behind him.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Damiano growls. Timothèe stares pitifully at the ground. How could I make him this sad? A familiar jolt of guilt pierces my heart. "I'm dropping her off," He mumbled. Damiano's anger switched to confusion. "I wanted to make sure she got back here safely." His voice breaks, his glossy eyes lock with mine. I smile with gratitude despite the hate I feel for him. Damiano does too, despite his own discomfort. "Thank you." Damiano nodded. Timothèe nodded back in respect before turning back to open the door but he froze before closing the door behind him, needing to state one final thing. I chew my nails hoping he won't tell Damiano what happened. "I promise I won't bother you anymore." He smiled before closing the door behind him. Driving recklessly through the parking lot.

Damiano's arms folded tightly around me. His body against mine like a perfect puzzle piece. It was obvious he had always been the one, the guilt sept through me. "Chloe?" Damiano whispers catching my attention. "You spaced out, what are you thinking of Bella?" He smiled.

I couldn't tell him, even if I wanted to. My mouth was plied shut with my regret.

"A fucking fool to face me again," Damiano snickered. "Trying to keep you safe? He was trying to fuck you." He growled through gritted teeth. "He was trying to keep me safe Damiano," I spoke in a hushed tone staring into the distance of the drafty streets. "At least he was honest." I rolled my eyes. "Bella, Ava is only a co-worker." He assured me. But his eyes glisened with guilt. "Is that your lyrical process?" I smirked innocently behind masked tears. Damiano looked at the ground ashamed. "Chloe I promised you I'd tell you what happened." He stated. I sigh, teary eyed. "Do I really want to know the truth?"

•••

And after knowing I wished it was only a mere affair. I could suppress, shrug off or even possibly forgive, but murder? Inconceivable.

"Why..." My lip quivered. He didn't answer, his mouth didn't even open, he sat stiffly in silence. "Why Damiano, Why?" I whispered. He shifted uncomfortably on the bed. "It... it was an accident," he mumbled. "She didn't mean to." He admitted. What he swore he was incapable of- no, my denied belief had become the impractical truth.

"It was a mistake." He breathed.

A mistake.

What an addict says after a relapse, a "It won't won't happen again" that is repeated time and time again. I know the pattern all to well.

"Who was it?" I ask. Silence floods the room while his eyes bored into the withhered wooden panels. "Damiano, don't do your protection bullshit." I grit my teeth. He mutters a faint name that resembles only a breath. "Who?" My brows raise.

"Rosa."

Eyes widen at the sound of her name. "What?" I manage to cry. "I know you're mad," His voice trails off as he wraps his arm around me. I shiver at his touch- not that he was icy but rather distant. "There was a fabrication." He stated. His grip of my waist loosens as I turn to face him. "What does that mean?" He breathes deeply before begining.

"You remember when I hit Elena." He asked.

Of course how could I forget? Just the most traumatiing event of my life.

"Yes." I mutter.

"Luna, my old patner," I shoot him a unimpressed look. "Stricly work, anyways after your trip to the hospital Timothèe found fottage from the rest stop."

"Entailing?"

"Well it showed Elena wasn't alone, there was another girl ith her, persumably Rosa."

"How did they come to that conclusion?" I ask.

"There was only one other car in the parking lot; Rosa's."

I'm shocked. Theres no way Rosa would kill Elena, sure after what happened we had joked amongst ourselfs but she was incapable of throughly following through with a murder. "Dami thats not like her, Rosa could never- would never." I claim. His hollow eyes meet mine. "I know mi amour, I know," He weakly tries to smile but my expression rests blank. "Rosa will have her justice," He assures. "Who really did it will get caught." He nods.

But whether we find the murder or not now she is gone, "justice" won't bring her back, nothing can. She was just another innocent victim, a pawn in Timothee's game. My hatred for Timothèe deepens yet the twisting in my stomach reminds me I am at fault, for all of this. If I had just stayed away from Damiano and Timothèe she could've been spared.