Torture to Her Soul
Page 65

"That's depressing," she says, looking around again. "Can we go somewhere else now… somewhere preferably where people weren't murdered for sport?"
"How about the Trevi Fountain?" I suggest. "You can throw a coin in and make a wish."
"Can I wish for immortality?"
"Sure," I say, "but I think you'd have better luck going to the Vatican for that. That's where miracles happen."
"Oh, can we go there?" she asks excitedly. "Can you, like, go to the Vatican?"
"Yes," I say with a laugh, unsure if she means me specifically. "I'm pretty sure I won't burst into flames. It's a far walk, though, and the lines will be long, so we might want to save it for another day."
"Okay," she says, smiling. "Trevi Fountain it is, then. Nobody died there, right?"
"Some guys probably died while building it, but otherwise, I don't think so."
She laughs, like I'm joking, but I'm not.
People die everywhere.
Every step you take—everywhere you stand—the ground beneath your feet is tainted by some kind of casualty. It's an inescapable fact. Nothing is untouched by death. Nothing.
The area around the fountain is packed. It's late afternoon, melding into early evening, the tourists out in droves. I fish a coin out of my pocket and hand it to Karissa as I stand back, watching as she squeezes in the crowd. She forces her way up front with ease, standing there for a moment before closing her eyes and tossing the coin in. She reopens her eyes then, staring down at the water for a few seconds, before slipping back out of the crowd to rejoin me.
"Did you wish for your immortality?"
She laughs. "Nope."
"What did you wish for?"
She shakes her head, her hair swishing back and forth. "Not telling."
"Why?"
"Because then it won't come true."
"Says who?"
"Says everyone. Those are the rules."
"Ah, come on," I say, reaching for her, pulling her to me. "You can tell me. I'm an exception."
"What makes you so special?"
"Because I just am," I say, grinning when she rolls her eyes. I reach up, cupping her chin, brushing my thumb across her lips. "And because I'll make your every wish come true. So you can tell me, because I'll do it for you. Whatever it is. It's yours."
She stares at me in contemplation. "I'll think about it."
Leaning down, I kiss her softly. "That's a start."
She takes some more pictures before we stroll away, just walking through the streets with no real destination in mind. We stop inside a few shops and I buy her some gelato, watching with amusement as she takes the first bite. Her eyes roll in the back of her head as she sticks the spoon back in the small bowl, getting a scoop of the messy tan-colored gelato.
"Here," she says, holding the spoon out to me. "Try some."
Hesitating, I shake my head. Chocolate Hazelnut. "No thanks."
Shrugging, she takes another bite.
And another.
And another.
We walk for a while longer as the day wears on and end up at the Villa Borghese, a large park in the center of the city. We head down a path, near the lake. Karissa's footsteps slow then, her eyes darting around, before she nudges me. "Can we sit down for a bit?"
I motion toward her. "Whatever you want. I'm following you."
She veers off the path right away, tromping through the lush grass. She plops right down beneath the shade of an old tree, away from everyone else, and I join her, sitting down carefully nearby. Her shoes are kicked off swiftly as she lounges back in the cool grass. "Uh, that's so much better."
"I bet."
"So how does it feel?" she asks, propped up on her elbows to look at me.
"How does what feel?"
"To be one of us regular folk," she says. "You went all day with no special treatment… had to wait for a table to open up, had to stand in line, weren't catered to or shuttled around wherever you wanted to go. Must've been torture for you, you know, being treated normal."
I stretch my legs out as I shake my head. "I like the anonymity. It's nice not having to worry about whose eyes are watching and whose hands are in my food, if a gun's pointed at me or if there's an ambush waiting around the next corner. Back in New York, I live with a target on my back. Sure, they treat me well when I'm in front of them, but when I turn around, well, there's no telling what they're planning. It's different here, though. Nobody's out to get me here."
"What about me?" she asks. "You're not worried about what I might do to you?"
"Not at all."
She seems genuinely surprised, like she expects me to perceive her as a threat. If it weren't so ridiculous, I'd laugh again.
"You have it all twisted, Jailbird," I say. "You seem to think I was upset because you drugged me, but that's not the case… I was upset that you put yourself in danger. I'm still upset about that. You put me out of commission and then ran off in the middle of the night where I couldn't protect you."
"I was fine."
"And thank God you were, but you might not have been. I'm not the only dangerous thing out there, you know. I'm not even the most dangerous."
Karissa's quiet for a moment, her eyes everywhere except for on me, as she absently plucks the grass around her. Eventually, she lets out a sigh, her voice low when she finally speaks. "It's weird, isn't it?"