Caitlin
Paolo Tacone just saved me from hell.
The man just got me out of jail, then gave me exactly what I needed to shake off the trauma. I rest my head on his chest, blinking at nothing.
All the terror and shame emptied out with my tears. I’m in a state of nothingness now. Drained, but okay. Paolo’s on his back and I’m tucked against him, my head resting on his shoulder.
Paolo nudges my face up to peer at me. “You still seem pretty checked out, doll. Did something happen in jail?”
I sense the violence ripple through him, like he’s going to slit some throats if he finds out I got jail-r***d or something.
“No,” I assure him. “I was just scared.”
“Understandable.”
I lean up on my arm to look at him fully. “Why did you come and get me?” I’m not stupid enough to think I won’t owe him
