Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Bruno
Five months later
“Sage green was a smart color, but this butter yellow isn’t right.” If she changes the colors in the nursery again, I might scream.
She rubs her belly in thought, and I groan, knowing that I’ll be heading back to town to get more paint.
“It needs to be lighter.” I chuckle cause last week it needed to be brighter.
“Mother knows best. Can it wait until tomorrow?” I come up behind her, hugging her around the swell of our child, who’s been so active at night she’s barely sleeping.
“No, I want to finish while I have the energy.” I sigh but nod, kissing her cheek.
“Anything else while I’m in town?” She shakes her head, lost in thought, as she surveys the mural she’s painted on the wall of what used to be my small office.
It’s basically a walk-in closet that I had no need of, which I used for my gun safe, a small desk, and a chair. It’s attached to the bedroom, though, which is the important part. That and it fits the crib and changing table perfectly.
The bassinet sits under the window by our bed, and every morning when I wake, I glance inside on a mental clock down to when it will no longer be empty.
Ten or so weeks, give of take.
We’ve decided not to know the gender, so the nursery has become a gender nutral zoo theme.
I glare at the fox that has become a house pet, no matter what I tried.
His mama never came back, and it just didn’t take to the outside world as it should have.
When he came back one night, his fur red with blood, Rosario lost it, and he’s been inside ever since.
I’m pretty sure he’s a runt because he hasn’t grown much, and I don’t have the heart to tell my wife that he might not make it much longer, since he’s not eating much. All signs of an animal preparing for the end. Honestly, it’s probably why the mother left it behind.
She’s going to be crushed.
“He’s looking at me weird again.” The fox yawns and then lays his head down like he wasn’t just giving me the stink eye.
“No, he’s not.” I roll my eyes yet again.
“How about Snowy?” I snort as I grab my keys.
“We are not naming him. He’s not a pet. Also, I may veto your ability to name our child as well. You aren’t good at it, sweetheart.” She smacks at my arm, forgetting the paint brush in her hand and flicking drops all over me.
“Whoops! I’m so sorry.” She tries to wipe them away, but all it does is make me look even more like a Picasso painting.
“Stop! I’ll change.” I chuckle as I pull my shirt off and then smirk as I hear her groan in appreciation.
The only pregnancy symptom that has not let up is her sexual appetite. I’m having the best sex of my life, and it’s all thanks to my family’s inability to take no for an answer. It really is ironic.
“Ok, I’ll have them add some cream to this to lighten it, but then that’s it, sweetheart. We can’t keep changing things, or we will run out of time and be painting with the baby here. Deal?” She nods with a small smile.
“Love you, see you soon.” I kiss her and grab the paint.
“Still not right, huh?” I laugh at the way the owner of our local hardware store glares at the gallon of paint I’ve had him adjust three times.
“Can you believe it’s too bright now?” He burst out laughing as he pries the caan open.
“So we’re adding white?” I shake my head.
“No, go with a cream. Had her promise this was the last time.” He nods as he gets to work.
I check my emails and check in with Lucas as I wait. Everything has been quiet on the Famiglia side of things, and my gut is screaming that something is coming.
We’ve been left alone and way too happy for them not to be getting ready to fuck something up. I hate that my brain goes to worst-case scenarios so quickly, but years of experience have taught me to trust my instincts, and right now they’re all on alert.
I open the app for the outdoor cameras to the house, but I get a network down error.
Frowning I turn when I’m called over to retrieve the corrected paint color.
“Good luck,” he says as I wave at him.
As I exit the door and step outside, I hear loud sirens and glance around to see where they’re coming from. An ambulance flies past me, and my heart jumps.
I call the cabin, but no one answers. I dial the satellite phone that was in the room with her when I left, and it doesn’t even ring.
I glare at the ambulance that turns up the streett headaing to our local clinic.
Every fiber of my being is telling me to follow it, and I curse, dropping the can of paint and running the three blocks.
When I get to the entrance, the ambulance is empty, and there’s a commotion going on in the clinic. I burst inside and catch a familiar paint-covered hand waving about, trying to get her point across.
“SOMEONE NEEDS TO CALL MY HUSBAND!” Her voice sounds so panicked.
“Hey, move! ROSARIO!” I scream her name, and the room seems to freeze.
“Bruno! Oh, thank God. I slipped on the paint and fell off the stool. The phone fell into a bucket of paint, but it worked long enough to dial one-one-two.” I cut her off by taking her hand in mine and giving her a quick glance over.
“Shh, sweatheart are you okay? The baby?” She sobs and doesn’t answer.
“I hit my belly. It hurts,” She admits her fears as the nurses roll her into a room.
“Let’s check on the baby. Are you bleeding?” One of the nurses asks in a heavy accent.
“I...dooon’t…thiiiink soooo,” she cries as she answers, and I climb up on the bed to hold her, to which the nurse starts to protest until she sees the look on my face and stops.
“Ok, let’s get the mobile ultrasound in to see what’s happening. The doctor will be in shortly. Try to take a few deep breaths.” She pats Rosario’s thigh and then looks at me sternly.
Message received.
I place my hand on her belly and rub it slowly, watching as the action seems to calm her. I feel a kick under my hand, and she sobs louder, but this time in relief.
“They hadn’t moved.” She confesses as another kick hits my hand.
“Right on schedule for lunch.” We both laugh as the doctor comes in.
“Mr. and Mrs. Romano, welcome. I heard you had a tumble. How far along are you?” We answer all his questions and are having our ultraasound when someone screams right outside our room.
“What in the world,” the doctor goes for the door when I hear supressed gun shot.
“Don’t. Get away from that door.” I move to lock it, and then I grab the chair and wedge it under the handle.
“Is there another way out of this room?” The ultrasound tech nods and points to a door that says “Authorized Personnel Only.”
“Okay, everyone, move now.” The door handle jiggles, and as we get out the door, someone kicks it in.
I managed to see the same aasshole from the church. The one who gave my wife those bloody roses. He smiles at me as I slam the door shut between us.
“This way.” The tech calls as the doctor helps my wife move through the room.
“Who are those people?” The man asks as we reach a back hallway.
“No one good. You need to call the police and check on your people. We’re leaving. Which way out?” The tech points left, and they turn right.
“You doing okay? The truck is three blocks away. I wasn’t thinking I just ran after the ambulance.” I try to explain as we walk out to the street, but we don’t make it far.
“Mrs Romano, please come with me. We have a helicopter waiting to take you to a proper hospital for treatment.” He reaches his hand for my wife and I pull my gun.
“Touch my wife and die.” He raises his hands and steps back.
“The heir is our sole responsiblity sir. We are to protect him from anything, including his parents.” I snort at the audacity of it all.
“The baby is fine and healthy. Your interference is neither wanted nor needed. So go back and tell her grandfather that if they so much as send a baby shower gift, we’ll disappear where no one will find us.” He lowers his head and nods once.
“You may try. But you will fail again. It is best if you just submit and follow the rules. Keep her safe, and you won’t see us again.
Jeopardize her, and I’ll be forced to take them away,” I fire one shot that pierces his head, sending him flying backwards, and then look at his two companions in the SUV.
“Either of you want to threaten to take my wife?” The windows slowly go up, and the SUV pulls away.
“Didn’t think so.”
I turn to Rosario, who’s staring at the dead body. Her face seems calm, and I watch as she leans over him and spits in his face.
“Take me home.” I take her hand, and we walk to the truck, passing where I dropped the can of paint, and she stops to point at it.
“It’s still not right.” I burst out into laughter as she frowns at the fucking color.
“No, sweetheart. I assure you it’s perfect. Let’s go home, and I’ll show you.” I kiss her as the police fly by.
“You’re right. Perfect, grab it and let’s go!”