Free Raphael (The Immortal Youth Book 1) by Monica La Porta Page A

and I remembered of a girl living at the Reds—”
    “The Reds?” Raphael felt cold all of a sudden.
    Carla nodded. “I told you that I only lived with the Reds for a month, but, soon after I arrived, a girl who had escaped was brought back to the harem. Her name was Luisa, and no, I don’t know her last name. She had been hiding at the Mattatoio for a few days before Rico found her. I meant to ask her how she had managed to leave the compound, but she was still locked in a cell when I decided I couldn’t stand it anymore and tried to kill myself.”
    With his heart galloping in his chest, and too many questions fighting for predominance, Raphael blurted out the first that came to mind. “Who’s Rico?”
    “Rico is one of the big brothers and Luisa is his. Tancredi gave her to him.” Carla’s voice was low and the ambiance noise was getting louder—two teams had formed in the pool and the kids who weren’t playing the huge game of water polo were shouting to the top of their lungs, cheering their friends—and Raphael had to move closer to her, despite his wolf ears.
    “And who’s Tancredi?”
    “Tancredi is the Reds’ alpha. Sometimes, he gifts the girls from the harem to the big brothers.” She shivered despite the rising temperature.
    Carla’s words made Raphael sick. From the look on her face, reminiscing wasn’t agreeing with her either. “That’s what happened to you?”
    Her mouth closed in a straight line, she nodded.
    Knowing how memories had the power to hurt even after years, he didn’t press the matter, but his mind was whirling with scenarios straight out of his nightmares.
    She patted his hand. “I’m sorry I didn’t put the pieces together sooner.” With a sigh, she added, “And it might not be her at all. Luisa isn’t that rare as a name.”
    “You’re right, it isn’t.” He placed his hand over hers and gave it a squeeze, then leaned toward her and brushed the crown of her head with his lips. “And I’m sorry—”
    “It’s not your fault you don’t feel anything for me.” A small smile appeared on her mouth.
    “But I do care for you.”
    She leaned forward until their foreheads touched. “I know that you care for me as a friend.”
    “Carla—”
    She placed her head over his chest. “It’s okay. I’ll survive.”
    Several hours later, he took his leave from Carla and his friends, and headed back to his place. A plan had slowly formed in his mind, and, the more he thought about it, the more it made sense to him until he couldn’t see any other option. Next morning, he would knock on the Reds’ door, hoping it was recruiting season.
    ****
    After a sleepless night Raphael spent convincing himself of the righteousness of his actions, he left his apartment. Before running away at the first lights of dawn, he cleaned the place, threw the garbage out, and wrote a note for the alpha, twice. And twice, he walked back in to get rid of his farewell messages.
    At his favorite coffee bar at the corner of Vescovio Place, he ordered a sumptuous breakfast and ate until he felt sick. Not the best of ideas, but he had discovered he was a nervous eater when he had enough money to splurge on food.
    Devouring his last croissant with abandon—he had asked the barista to fill it with extra nutella—Raphael realized he had just eaten away what remained of his last paycheck. As painful as the thought was, he felt also liberated. Guilty for having betrayed Quintilius’s trust and generosity, but liberated nonetheless.
    Full and sleepy, he jumped on his Nimbus and left the security of the alpha’s protection without looking back once.
    Rome in the early hours of the morning looked full of promise. Running his bicycle in the streets that would be soon crowded, he breathed in the scent of wet asphalt after the rain of the night before. Neighborhood after neighborhood, he shed parts of who he had been for the last four months and a half to become the perfect prospect for the Reds.
    His