An avalanche of rage hits me, pumping through my system. Darkness is descending on everything in my path.
Chapter Twenty-One
COSIMA
Oh noesis my only thought when I step out of the bathroom and see Sal standing there. “Do you need to use it?” I ask, moving out of the way.
“I was actually trying to find you.” Sal gives me a smile that pulls up one side of his lips.
He’s not a bad-looking man. I’m sure many girls would swoon over this little smirk of his, but not me. Sal is too polished for me. His style is impeccable; it could rival mine, and therein lies part of the problem.
Sal has that pretty boy thing going on, and, well, boys have never been my thing. Then again, Z has only ever been my thing, but I know what is and isn’t attractive to me, and Sal isn’t it, even if he could easily grace the cover of a magazine.
I have no doubt he has graced many women's beds. Ladies talk, and I have heard his name come up more than once. While most women in the lifestyle wouldn’t care about such things, all of that is off-putting to me.
Sal rides the coattails of his dad, which is fine but isn’t respectable to me. Even my Z, who spends a lot of time behind a computer screen, still has a roughness to his hands, a small scarthat runs along his jaw. A few marks on his body. He gets his hands dirty; he doesn’t send men in to do the work.
I don't think Sal could say the same. If you asked me, that is part of why his family has stayed at the level they are at. They could never face off with the men in my family, so it's best to come for me. I would be a quick way in. I know that's what Sal is truly after. I'm sure it helps that I'm conventionally pretty.
I am also a bit of a rarity with my background, having blond hair, blue eyes and a softer complexion. It often makes me stand out in a room at a lot of these parties, except for the bigger ones when some of the men bring their mistresses instead of wives.
"Sal, I'm not searching for a husband." I’m upfront and honest, not wanting to drag this out or let Sal think he even stands a chance. It takes everything in me not to say that I already have one. That would surely end this.
"You haven't even given this a shot. Take a chance to get to know me." He steps closer, making me do the same but in the other direction. My back is almost to the wall now. "We make sense."
"I'm not going to marry a man because it makes sense."
"It's Z, isn't it? And not because he has taken over a pretend brotherly, overprotective role."
"Pretend?" I'm not touching the brother comment. I wonder if others will think the same because we'd grown up together, but I never saw Z the same way I see War and Ronan.
"He wants you. You surely know that."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Cosima, the dumb girl act doesn't play for me. I know you're far from it. Hell, you went to one of the most prestigious schools in the world. You know how to handle yourself."
Well then. I tilt my chin up, narrowing my eyes on him.
"Do you know how to handle yourself, Salvatore?"
“I do, but does Z?” What the hell does that mean? I won’t be asking him, that’s for damn sure. “Oh, you don’t want to touch that one? Maybe you should.”
“Sal—”
“I’m only trying to warn you, Cosima.”
“Right,” I laugh. “I think it might be best if you—” I don’t get a chance to finish my sentence before Sal's grabbed by the back of the neck and tossed down the hallway like a rag doll.
Z’s dark eyes lock with mine. His pupils are so big they almost consume all the color of his eyes.
“Don’t move,” he orders. I don’t recognize his voice.
“Z—” I try to stop him, but he’s quick, too quick. He’s already pouncing on Sal, who has barely come back to his feet. Z slams him into the wall, making a framed old family picture fall, crashing to the ground, shattering, glass spreading out everywhere. “Z!” I shout again, hoping my voice will cut through.
He wraps his hand around Sal’s neck, leaning in close. I see his mouth moving, but I can’t hear what he is saying. Sal struggles to try and remove Z’s hands, but his efforts are pointless, his face turning from red to blue.
“Z, stop!” I plead, rushing towards them, but I don’t make it. An arm wraps around me from behind, yanking me back. Without a thought, I throw my elbow back, like I've been taught, bringing my heel down on their foot. I see War fly past me in almost a blur.
