Chapter 18
DANIKA
Having grown up in a one-bedroom place housing three of us, I’m no stranger to sharing a bed. I often found myself sneaking into bed with Mom or Gran even after I got a twin bed of my own because I preferred to be snuggled up next to one of them. I’d forgotten how good it feels.
I woke up halfway through the night to find myself doing my best koala bear impersonation around a Tommy tree. I was embarrassed, so I untangled myself as best I could without disturbing him and went back to sleep. The next time I woke, he was up and gone.
I took a leisurely shower in the primary bathroom.
His apartment is incredible. I felt like I was in a movie using his heated towel rack and multiple showerheads.
By the time I got out, Tommy was back from his run and cooking breakfast. Scrambled eggs, the same as he’s made every morning.
I get the sense he doesn’t stray from that dish very often. It’s strangely endearing.
We chatted a bit through breakfast like a normal couple.
It’s so odd to think of how things have morphed over the past week.
I’m not sure how to tell if my changing feelings are genuine or some shade of Stockholm syndrome.
He’s been surprisingly sweet in a gruff way and unquestionably protective.
I can’t avoid seeing him as more than his Mafia label.
I have no idea what that means, especially considering he’s convinced we’re getting married. It seems crazy.
Even crazier? I don’t hate the idea.
It does worry me, though. And Biba worries me. A lot. I worry what he might do to Tommy. Biba is ruthless to a degree that probably qualifies as psychotic. As far as I can tell, he doesn’t have an ounce of empathy in his body.
It’s a good reminder that I should check on Mom and Gran.
Now that breakfast is over and Tommy’s gone back to shower, it’s a perfect opportunity.
I add Mom’s number to my contact list in the new phone, which already contains Tommy’s and Sante’s numbers.
I add Sachi’s as well while I’m at it, then ring Mom.
“Hello?” she answers in a terse tone.
“Mama, it’s me.”
“Oh! Dani! How are you, sweet girl?”
Hearing the relief in her voice has me grinning ear to ear. “I’m good. Tommy’s taking good care of me.”
“Is that right? I’d like to hear more about this friend of yours. He seems to be awfully understanding of your situation.”
“It’s kind of a crazy story, but he’s actually part of the Moretti family.” I internally cringe as seconds tick by.
“You kidding me?”
I hear Gran in the background demanding Mom put the call on speakerphone.
“What did I miss? What’s happening?” Gran interjects.
“Tell her,” Mom demands.
“It’s a long story, but I’m sort of staying with an Italian—one of the Morettis.”
“And?” Gran asks.
“Ma!” Mom balks at her, making me smile.
“What? If he’s giving her a place to hide out, what’s wrong with that? He’s not hurting you, is he?” Gran’s voice takes on an edge.
“No, not at all. This number I’m calling from is a new phone he got for me. He’s been very thoughtful.”
I can almost hear Mom’s grimace. “I don’t like it. That’s how they lure you in. Trust me, I’ve been there.”
“Ignore her,” Gran says. “Everything else okay?”
“ I’m fine. How have you two been? Biba hasn’t sent anyone else around to harass you, has he?”
“No, that really was no big deal, which is why I wasn’t even going to mention it until Sachi came by. No reason to worry you.” She’s trying to downplay the situation so I won’t bug her about hiding out.
“Well, I do worry, and I will keep bugging you to let us keep you safe.”
“You just take care of yourself, Dani,” she replies in a voice weighted with concern. “I know you think this man you’re staying with is different, and for your sake, I pray that he is, but be careful. They hide their true nature.”
Images of Tommy come unbidden to my mind—tender kisses on my forehead, the awe on his face when he looked at my artwork.
Even when he first took me hostage, he couldn’t help but guide me through deep breaths when I panicked.
Those aren’t the actions of a monster. And more to the point, those are the glimpses of Tommy at his most genuine self.
I’d say she’s right. Both Biba and Tommy wear masks, but where Biba puts on a charming front to hide the lack of a soul, Tommy’s mask serves as armor to protect the goodness he hides down deep.
I could try to convince her, but she won’t believe me about Tommy any more easily than I’ll believe Biba isn’t a threat to her.
“I know, Mama. I’m going to be okay. I promise.” As I say the words, I realize that with Tommy helping me, I believe them. “Gran, you doing okay?”
“Yeah,” she answers breezily. “The doctor said the dizziness was just heart palpitations and nothing to worry about.”
“ What ?” This is the first I’ve heard of Gran having heart palpitations.
“It’s nothing for you to worry about,” Mom tries to assure me. “Seeing Biba’s goons here got her agitated, and she had a little arrhythmia. The doctor said that’s not unusual in high-stress situations. She’s fine now—feisty as ever.”
I breathe deeply. “Please, be careful, you two.”
“You know I will,” Mom says, “but this old woman here has never listened to either one of us, you know that. She went to the laundromat yesterday after I told her I’d handle the laundry this week. She waited until I was in the bathroom and took off.”
I can picture the entire scene in my mind—including Mom ranting to herself in an empty apartment. The two of them are more alike than they want to admit. I have to smile. I love both of them so much. “Do your best, and Gran? Behave,” I chide playfully.
We exchange I love yous and say goodbye.
I disconnect and try to decide whether the call made me feel better or worse when I realize I’m no longer alone.
I look over at the man leaning against the entry wall, expecting to see Tommy, only to find a terrifying stranger watching me.
He’s enormous—like the Brawny man but with tattoos and a scowl.
So many thoughts flood my brain that I freeze, my mouth hanging open like a fish yanked from the water with no idea what’s just happened.
My first thought is Biba. He’s found me.
But how? Could someone in Tommy’s organization have leaked my location?
The man comes off the wall, snapping me out of my stupor. I jump to my feet and stumble backward in retreat.
“Get away from me. I’m not letting you take me.
” I look around frantically for some sort of weapon.
Anything to stop him. Yesterday, I had considered letting Biba win so that my family would be safe.
When faced with the reality of actually being stuck in a forced marriage, my survival instinct is screaming at me to fight.
To do anything I can to get away. Only, I don’t know how.
There’s nothing at all that remotely resembles a weapon. Tommy doesn’t have things .
I grab a small potted plant and hold it in one hand as I continue to inch backward. My pursuer watches me, his head angling a fraction to the side as though studying a newly discovered species. “Take you where? To Tommy?”
I freeze, my eyes widening. “Tom—? Tommy?” His name is a benediction falling from my lips. “You’re not one of Biba’s men?”
His head falls back with a bellow of laughter, but it’s short-lived. When he looks back at me, the deranged edge in his stare steals my breath. “Nah. That bastard can go fuck himself.”
My relief is instantaneous and overwhelming. I plunk the plant back on its table, then try to steady myself as my vision blurs and my legs threaten to give out.
“Fucking Christ.” The clipped curse barely penetrates the ringing in my ear before I’m swept off my feet. Though I don’t know this man from Adam, I cling to him because every ounce of strength has left me, and I’m seconds away from passing out.
“Sorry,” I mutter. “Just need … to sit … for a second.”
“No shit.”
He takes two steps toward the sofa when the primary bedroom door bangs open, and a buck-naked, soaking-wet Tommy charges at us, a gun in his hand.
“ What the fuck is going on here ?”