Chapter 9 Aerin
AERIN
Two weeks pass since the raid at the safehouse.
Every so often, out of the corner of my eye, my fingers are still covered in blood.
It’s like a mirage that comes and goes late at night when I’m just about to drift off to sleep.
Shadows darken around my fingertips and my skin grows dry to the touch.
Turning on the light always chases the mirage away, but it’s not enough.
Strangers came painfully close to killing me, and the only reason I’m alive, the only reason I’m in one piece, is because of Falco and his friend Pidge.
How two people like that became friends is beyond me.
They’re like chalk and cheese.
Pidge was all smiles and happy stories while we waited on the all clear, while Falco was forever frowns and grumbling one-word remarks.
Except when he helped me in the bathroom.
Those tender moments remain nestled in my mind, drawing a soft smile to my lips every time I recall the hours he stood there helping me wash away blood only I could see.
Ever since, he’s been keeping a closer eye on me, but I’ve regained the right to privacy.
He lets me close doors and shower alone.
A tiny, selfish part of me is disappointed.
“Aerin?” Mom’s voice draws me out of replaying that moment in my mind and back into the present.
We sit together in the conservatory, basking in the strong sun that warms the glass enough to make the edges of the pane look fuzzy.
Untouched tea sits before me and my crochet rests limp in my hands.
“Look at that.” Mom tsks under her breath and she nudges my elbow. “You’ve lost your loops again.”
“Oh. Sorry. I’m not really concentrating.” Ever since I returned to her frantic arms, she’s been throwing me into activities, likely hoping they’ll distract me from how close I came to death.
My father’s been the same, in his own way.
He called Falco into his office one night and they spoke for hours. I feared he’d never come out.
“Is there something on your mind?” There’s a slight edge to Mom’s voice, as if she cares enough to ask but not enough to listen.
Not that I blame her.
She heard a few details about what happened at the warehouse and went so pale she was practically translucent.
For a mafia wife, she doesn’t have much stomach for the darkness of the world.
Or at least not where her children are involved. It’s the most love I’ve ever felt from her.
“No,” I lie softly. “I’m just…not into crocheting. I’m sorry.”
“That’s fine,” she replies with a sigh that clearly says it’s not fine. “I have to collect your father’s prescription anyway.”
“Collect? Don’t they usually deliver that?”
“They do, but I’m meeting a chef who will be catering the party so I offered to collect it. Your father has a lot on his mind right now. Plus, it’s good to get out of the house at times, Aerin.”
I bite my tongue hard, preventing me from immediately calling my mother out on the restricted freedom she creates that prevents me from doing exactly that.
Setting my poorly knitted scarf down next to my tea, I’m half rising when her hand suddenly reaches out and touches my neck.
“Bruises are almost gone,” she says quietly. “I’m glad.”
“Me too.” Leaning back down, I kiss her powdery cheek. “Have a fun outing.”
“I will, darling. I will.”
She waves me away and it’s my permission to leave.
The inside of the estate is distinctly cooler than the conservatory, so I wrap my arms around myself while walking the walls in search of Falco.
Maybe leaving the estate isn’t such a bad idea.
Falco’s in the gym, the one place he spends his time when he’s not following me like a shadow.
I approach him slowly, studying the way he plants himself on the bench and raises a bar above his head.
It’s weighed down with more weights than I can calculate without seeing the plate numbers, and my heart lifts slightly as I watch.
No wonder he could pick me up like I weighed absolutely nothing. Everything that happened at the safehouse was terrifying in its own way, but there are moments I cling to.
Being carried in Falco’s arms, his trust in me to poorly drive, his hands on mine as we washed together.
Small things that surely mean nothing but when stacked with what he did to me in the shower, meaning slowly forms in my mind.
I wait silently until he slams the bar back down onto the safety hooks, his arms falling down to the floor while he pants heavily.
His torso, a patchwork of scars, gleams with sweat and heat coils low in my gut as I stare at him.
“Falco?”
He rolls his head back to look at me, then slowly sits up. “Everything okay?”
“Mhm.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I…” My words catch in my throat as he turns and I glimpse the fresh, still healing wound on his flank from the second bullet he took from me.
It rises and falls as he grabs his towel and my heart rate picks up.
Just below it is the second scar from the bullet he took for me in the restaurant. “Does it hurt?”
“Does what hurt?”
Stepping forward, my hands move before my mind catches up. I light touch the fresh pink scar.
Falco immediately spins around to face me, patting his neck and chest dry.
“Those scars.”
“A little.”
“Is it safe for you to do all this so soon? I mean… There was so much blood when you uh…” I can’t even say it.
“It’s safe as long as I don’t do anything drastic,” Falco replies. “It’s not the first time I’ve been shot.”
“I thought bullets always killed people.”
“No.” His chest rises slightly. “If you aim with precision, then yes. And sometimes if you don’t then you can get lucky. But these? It’s just meat that they hit. Painful and heavy bleeders but everything important is fine.”
“That’s lucky,” I murmur as a soft rush of relief washes through me. “For a while I was worried it was only adrenaline keeping you alive.”
“Adrenaline and determination.”
Our eyes meet and a soft smile pulls at the corner of my lips. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were making a joke.”
“I don’t joke.”
“Sure.” Clasping my hands together, my thoughts race for an excuse to keep him talking.
It’s nice.
Much nicer than dealing with my parents. “Can you uh…can you teach me?”
Falco lowers to his haunches and picks up his water bottle. “To lift weights?”
“Defend myself.”
He rises slowly. “That’s my job.”
“I know. But after…” Swallowing, the phantom press of that bastard’s hands around my throat rises.
“I want to be able to protect myself even if it’s something basic.
Everyone keeps telling me I’m lucky you were there and I get that, but what if something happens to you or, god forbid, you end up hurt in a way that you can’t help me? ”
Falco’s jaw ticks back and forth as if he’s chewing over his thoughts. “What brought this on?”
“Do I really need a reason?”
“Yes.”
I shrug. “I feel like it’s obvious.”
“I want you to say it.”
“I… Giacomo made a good point at dinner the other night that there’s always a chance you won’t be there. I can’t always rely on you or another guard.”
The mention of my brother’s name draws a shadow of anger across Falco’s face.
He, like almost everyone else, is still furious at my brother.
A couple of hours after Falco and I returned here, bruised and bloody, Giacomo sauntered home after a sexcapade conquest with girls he met at the nightclub.
He was never missing; he was just getting laid. I should be angrier at him, but I’m just grateful he didn’t come to any harm.
“I can teach you,” Falco says. “But I won’t go easy on you.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to.”
“We can start now.”
My eyes widen. “Now?”
“Is there somewhere you need to be?”
“No, I-I just…” Warmth sweeps up through my body and settles in my cheeks while the back of my neck prickles. “I uhm…”
Falco doesn’t say a word.
He stands there in all his handsome glory with the sun behind him giving him a golden glow.
Even the silver streaks in his hair turn a warm, coppery hue.
“Do we start with diet?”
Falco frowns. “What?”
“Uhm…” My cheeks flame hotter when my voice trembles, so I clear my throat and try again. “I’m assuming we start with diet.”
Falco’s eyes slowly move down me, moving so slowly that I can almost feel the heat of his gaze sweeping from head to toe. “Why?”
“Why? What do you mean ‘why?’ Look at me.”
Falco nods. “I’m looking. I don’t understand.”
Hotter and hotter my cheeks burn as humiliation tears through me.
How can he stand there and look at me, yet not understand?
I’m far from fit.
My body curves and rolls in places someone like he would never understand.
Surely he’s heard enough of my mom’s snidey comments about my weight and build to understand, as if looking at me isn’t obvious enough.
Holding out my arms, I motion to myself. “Hello? Are you seriously going to make me talk about my weight when it’s pretty freaking obvious to both of us?”
Falco’s brows twitch and he shakes his head.
“Aerin. There is nothing wrong with how you look. Strength? The ability to defend yourself? That doesn’t come from body shape or weight.
It comes from skill and determination. Strength is in here.
” He lightly taps his chest. “Then it moves into your muscles. Being beautiful doesn’t prevent you from building muscle.
Anyone can be strong, Aerin. Don’t you dare let anyone ever tell you otherwise. ”
Did he just call me beautiful?
My heart races even faster as I stare at him and the humiliating warmth slowly cools from my cheeks.
It’s always strange to hear him say so much at one time, but in one conversation he’s almost soothed my decades of pain at being compared to my stick-thin mother.
“Do you have better clothes than jeans?” He nods down at my legs. “You’re going to need something light and flexible.”
Two hours later, we stand across from one another, panting heavily.
The waistband of my leggings digs into my middle slightly from how much footwork we’ve been practicing.
Never have I been more thankful for a sports bra that sticks to me like glue.
“Again,” Falco demands, his voice low as he wipes sweat from his brow. “You’ve almost got it.” He’s barely finished speaking when he lunges at me with a punch.
Unfortunately, I’m struggling to keep up with the various footwork techniques he’s been teaching me.
Since each punch comes with a different dodge, by the time I’ve realized what he’s doing and worked out where to step, his fist is already glancing off my shoulder.
“Again.”
Another punch, another misstep, and his knuckles lightly graze my ribs.
“Again.”
This punch catches me on the jaw.
“Again.”
The next three hit my arm, my shoulder, and my thigh. “Enough!” Throwing my hands up in frustration, I wipe the sweat from my forehead with the back of my wrist. “I can’t do it. It’s too complicated.”
“It’s not,” Falco replies with a sigh. “You know what to do. You’re not trusting yourself to do it. I see it in your eyes. You’re thinking.”
“Of course I’m thinking!” I snap heatedly.
Sparring with Falco like this is a dream.
Both of us panting and sweating?
Being so close that we’re touching each other?
This is what I wanted and yet there’s nothing but frustration in my heart. “I’m trying to remember everything you told me about where to step, how to judge where my attacker’s gravity is, how to angle my body—it’s too much!”
“Then stop thinking,” Falco snaps back. “Act.”
“I can’t!”
“Yes, you can!” Falco’s voice suddenly rises. “Aerin, the people who come at you like this aren’t going to give you time to think. They’re not going to care that you muddle up your left and your right. They’re going to want to hurt you so you need to stop getting stuck in a plan and act!”
“Falco, I can’t!”
He lunges at me suddenly and his fist collides with my shoulder, harder than before.
“Stop!” Another lunge. This time his foot collides with the back of my knee. I stumble, barely able to keep my balance, then his fist flies at my face and catches on my chin. “Falco, I—”
“Yes you can!”
“No, I can’t!” Another light punch hits my ribs, another catches the back of my arm, and a third hits my back as he darts around me. Frustration swells in my chest and heat prickles in the back of my mind while a wave of hopelessness crashes over me. “I’m not capable.”
“You are, Aerin. You are capable.” He’s back in front of me. This time he swings his fist hard and fast at my face.
Something finally clicks.
I quickly step to the side and raise my arms so his forearm collides with mine, preventing the punch from hitting my face, then I throw my other fist at him as hard as I can.
My knuckles crash into his jaw full force. While it’s not enough to cause harm, Falco’s head does snap back.
We both freeze.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Rushing forward, I clutch at his face with both my hands. “I didn’t mean to punch you! Are you okay?”
As Falco’s head lifts in my hands, my heart skips a beat to see him laughing. An honest smile stretches across his handsome face, and a deep, warm chuckle rattles out of his chest. “I knew you could do it.”
Only then do I realize that I blocked his punch and retaliated just like he’s been teaching me to do these past hours.
“Oh my god! I did it! I actually did it! Ha! I did it!” Excitement is like a drug. It rushes through me from head to toe, makes me bounce up and down, and my grin stretches from ear to ear.
And then I’m kissing him.
It’s sudden and unexpected, but as the sheer exhilaration of success rushes through me, it’s the only thing I want to do.
His face is cradled in my hands, his body a searing heat against me, and his mouth pressing firmly against my own.
Everything stops. Time. My racing heart. My rampant thoughts.
Everything.
It’s a kiss that lasts forever. Yet in reality it’s only half a second because Falco immediately grips my shoulders and pushes me away to arm’s length.
“Aerin.” His voice is low and flat, his eyes narrow. “Don’t.”
“What? But I—” Confusion surges through me and my stomach tightens so suddenly that it’s painful.
“But I thought…?” Is he not interested? He’s risked his life for me, spent more time with me than anyone else in my entire life.
Surely he cares about me? He fingered me in the shower, there’s no way I’m on the wrong track here.
Am I?
“No.”
“No? B-But…but at the safehouse you came on—”
“I swore an oath to your father,” Falco cuts in flatly, shattering my dreams instantly. “You’re off-limits. Untouchable. And I’m far too old for you.”