A heavy silence settled between us, thick as the humid air pressing against my skin.
Salvo watched me for a long moment, his dark eyes cold and unreadable. And me?
I didn't even know what I was doing. I didn't even know what kind of expression I was making. All I knew—was that I was scared. Terrified.
Then he sighed quietly and rubbed his forehead, like a man trying to rein in his temper. Trying to calm himself down.
Then, without warning, he moved toward me.
My breath hitched.
Was he going to hit me?
I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the blow, frozen like a rabbit before a wolf. But...the hands that reached me were almost... delicate.
Fingers brushed my cheek — featherlight. Tender. A touch that should have soothed me, but instead, it sliced down my spine like a blade of ice.
"Shh..." His voice was low, almost affectionate, as his thumb stroked the corner of my mouth. "No more crying, my boy."
Cry—?
Crying?