Chapter Eighteen

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We came into the house and it seemed different somehow, as if that one night away had changed it completely. Or maybe it was the bare walls and patches along them not yet sanded or painted. I was surprised to see the wreckage had been cleaned and had zero doubt in my mind that Alessio had had no part of the cleaning process.

I stalked through the house and was surprised when I entered the living room. Alessio was awake. He was sitting on the couch in just his slacks, a bottle of bourbon in front of him, glass in hand head hung low.

Pietro cleared his throat from behind me and Alessio jumped to his feet. "Katherine!" I glanced to the glass in his hand and he set it down immediately. "I, well I wasn't sure you'd be back."

I took a heavy breath in and let it out. "Well I do live here....I do still live here, don't I?" I asked uncertain of exactly how angry Alessio was at me still.

"I sure hope so." He muttered and glanced down to my attire and then back up to me. "Katherine-" He took a step forward.

I raised a hand and he stopped. "I'm going to get a shower."

Alessio nodded and slowly sat back down. I watched him for a moment reach for the glass in front of him and then turned back. Pietro caught me before I passed him.

"Go easy on him." He muttered and kissed my forehead.

This confused me more than words could describe. I mean, certainly I was upset with Alessio but he was still had a bone to pick with me as well and he was the one with the gun the power and the money. Alessio should be the one going easy on me.

I sat in the bathtub for several minutes before actually turning the water on. I'd spent too much time in here lately. I had been so torn about the Nash thing I'd found my porcelain refuge quite often in the past weeks. When I made my decision, once and for all, I supposed I thought things would have gotten better. Not worse.

Alessio was pissed. Alessio had every right to be pissed. Of course, Alessio had no idea what to be pissed about. He was jealous, he was jealous and he didn't even realize that screwing around with Nash would have been so much better than what I had actually done. Maybe.

So he was mad. Talk to me, yell at me, break up with me. Don't call me a whore, shove me into a wall, and bend me over the kitchen counter when I say no.

Then again, talking to Alessio had been the last thing I'd decided to do once Nash handed me all those files.

Maybe Alessio and I were a good fit. We surely had similar jumping to conclusion skills, similar failure to communicate skills. I'd like to say we both knew to stop at the last second but I still didn't know if Alessio had stopped or not.

I showered. A long shower. Longer than necessary. Alessio must have had an industrial sized hot water tank though because the hot water never ran out though so when I exited the shower with pink skin and saw Alessio sitting on the bed fully dressed this time I wasn't honestly that surprised.

We stared at each other for a few long seconds before Alessio finally broke the silence. "Have you eaten?"

It was incredibly lame, cold, a distant question, and so very Alessio. "Pietro fed me."

He nodded and still wrapped in only my towel I sat down on the bed beside him.

He shifted on the bed to turn to face me and I admired the bruise on his jaw, just to the right of his chin. I hadn't seen a bruise on his beautiful face since Giovanni had taken to it. I would have loved to have said something, but I had no clue where to start.

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