Chapter 65

As soon as Russo walked through the door, the tension rose to a fever pitch, and before he could even say hello, I let loose with a barrage of charges that were directed squarely at the heart of our connection.

"Where the hell were you last night?" My eyes narrowed into an accusatory stare as I posed the question.

Russo's expression revealed that he was taken aback and he wrinkled his brows. He responded with a question that revealed the real perplexity that was written all over his face: "What are you talking about?"

The fact that I hadn't been able to sleep the night before, along with the smell of vodka that lingered about him like a shameful secret, stoked the fires of rage within me. "Don't play dumb," I said angrily. "You left, reeking of alcohol, and you didn't even bother talking to me."

Russo exhaled deeply, a look of confusion and exasperation painting itself across his features as he did so. I was in the pub at the time. What gives you such a bad case of the jitters?

My ans