Chapter 141 Cracking Open

Chapter 141 Cracking Open
Massimo could feel the oppressive fog of the nightmare slowly lifting.
 Eloise’s voice anchored him, a beacon of hope he followed desperately back to the light. With a broken sound torn from deep in his chest, he crushed her suddenly to him, hugging her with a ferocity that stole the breath from her lungs. 
Eloise held him back just as fiercely, her arms locked around his neck, fingers digging into his hair as if she could physically pull him from the darkness.
His hands roved over her desperately—cupping her face, sliding down her neck, tracing the curve of her spine, gripping her hips—as though he needed to reassure himself that she was real, warm, and alive. 
Eloise’s heart pounded wildly against his chest. Those words. Those horrible, haunting words.
The curse. He'd mentioned it once before at the safe house.
And tonight… Hearing the depth of his torment tonight shattered something inside her. How? Who? Who could have cursed him so completely that even in his sleep, it chased him?
When his breathing finally began to slow, Eloise still held him tightly, refusing to let go. 
She looked at him. At the wildness still lingering in his blue eyes. At the sweat dampening his hair. At the slight tremor in his hands.
This man. This impossible, terrifying man. He was hurting. He was drowning. And by God, she had to find a way to reach him.
She had to. She would fight for him if she had to. She would drag him out of the darkness with her bare hands.
She would wrestle his soul from whatever demons were eating him alive.
She lifted her head from his shoulder and kissed him. At first his lips were cold, barely responsive, but Eloise persisted, coaxing him with soft, tender presses of her mouth. 
A deep groan rumbled from his chest, and then he responded with fervent hunger. He kissed her voraciously, fisting one hand in her hair, tilting her head to claim her more deeply. 
Their tongues tangled, desperate and raw, tasting salt from her tears and the lingering fear of his nightmare.
When they finally broke apart, gasping, Eloise pressed small, soothing kisses along his chin and jaw, wrapping her arms tighter around his neck while still straddling his lap. 
“What did you see, Massimo?” she whispered against his skin. “Tell me what happened in your nightmare.”
He was silent for a long time. She felt his powerful body tense beneath her, every muscle locked in resistance. Still, she held him, running her fingers gently through his thick dark hair.
“I was in a destroyed building…” he began in that strange, monotone voice that sent chills racing down her spine. “Bodies were everywhere. And I… I was looking for you.”
Eloise’s arms tightened around him. The bomb scare was still haunting him. Of course...
“Then I found you…” He shook his head violently, as if trying to banish the image. 
Eloise closed her eyes. She already knew. Somehow she already knew.
“I found you in a pool of your own blood. So white. So fucking white.”
Eloise gathered his face in both hands, forcing him to look at her again. “I’m here, Massimo. Alive. Right here. It was a dream. Not our reality.”
He looked at her like he still wasn't entirely convinced.
She ran her fingers along his stubbled jaw, her touch tender and warm. “Do you remember what you said to me the morning after our wedding?”
A faint frown appeared between his brows.
Eloise smiled through her tears. “When I held the knife to your throat and swore to also slit mine because I wanted to escape?”
Something changed in his face. Massimo dragged her suddenly closer, burying his face in her neck. 
“I’ll haunt you,” he growled against her skin, the memory surfacing like a vow. “Through the ends of the earth, I’ll steal your soul from hell if I have to.”
A sob escaped her. Then she kissed him immediately. Their mouths crashed together again, tongues meshing in a deep, soul-searing kiss. 
When they finally parted, Massimo murmured against her nose, his voice hoarse with pain. “I gave you quite the scare, Cara. I’m sorry.”
Eloise shook her head, fresh tears running hotly down her cheeks. “If you can’t love me yet, Massimo… can you at least trust me as much as I trust you?”
“Eloise…” His voice cracked.
“Please,” she begged, their breaths mingling as they clung to each other in the darkness.
After a long, heavy silence, it was Massimo who spoke.
“My mother was an addict.” His voice was emotionally dead, stripped of everything. Eloise went very, very still, listening with every piece of her heart and soul. 
“Cocaine. Heroin. Meth. Whatever she could get her hands on.”
A self-deprecating laugh rumbled through his chest, bitter and hollow. “I grew up on the streets of New York. I was five years old and already knew men paid my mother for sex.”
Eloise’s face remained carefully blank while she bled inside. Why? Why had life been so cruel to him? Why had every unimaginable horror been his?
“She met my father on the job,” Massimo continued, still not looking at her. “He fucked her and left a bastard in her belly. Then he left. Went back to Italy. To his wife.”