Chapter 41
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
SLOANE
TWO WEEKS LATER
C oming home is like gambling. I never know what I’m going to find when I walk in. The apartment smells like the stale, putrid air after a house party—one that didn’t get cleaned up. Beer, liquor, and cigarettes waft up my nose as I walk inside and look around. Mom’s on the couch, a lit cigarette dangling from her fingers. It teeters, close to falling to the throw rug beneath the sofa.
Sighing, I drop my purse on the table next to the door and take it from between her charred fingers. I put it out and then work around the room, picking things up as I go with a grocery bag I found on the floor.
I don’t like returning here, not knowing what I’ll see when I do.
My whole life, I’ve been an optimist.
I always wanted to believe that when I walked in here one day, it would be clean—she would be clean. It’s never the case.
She’s too set in her ways.
Now that Dad’s gone, she’s even worse, like he was the one keeping her going somehow.
She’s too fucked up all the time to even take clients to keep herself afloat.
I pile the trash by the can, eyes scanning over the final notices and unpaid bills littering the counters.
“Ray,” Mom says, turning over on the couch, face smashing into the cushions on the back.
Closing my eyes for strength, I cover her with a blanket.
There was a time when I loved her—believed in her.
That time came to a halt at some point, though I can’t recall what caused my falling out with her.
Before I leave, I snatch up some bills to pay, not leaving a note to tell her I was there.
She’ll know.
She always knows.
I come to, rolling onto my side in the bed as I cast my eyes over the room. Luca’s in the chair beside the bed, slumped over and snoring.
It can’t be comfortable, but I can’t bring myself to move or even call out to him.
I haven’t been back to my mom’s house in years. I gave up once I realized she was doing harder things than alcohol, and my bailing her out all the time was enabling.
Shit, I don’t know if she’s even alive anymore.
I don’t know how long it’s been since Luca brought me back to what he said is our place. Days, I think. Possibly weeks.
There are trays of food on every surface, left untouched. I don’t feel like eating. I don’t feel like drinking. I don’t want to move or even exist.
I only want to sleep.
Then, sleep brings nightmares and memories, and I lay here for a few hours, eyes open but never speaking.
Luca has read to me from the bible on strength and courage. When that didn’t work, he moved on to Sherlock Holmes. The book lays in his lap now, close to falling to the floor.
As much as I want to crawl into his lap and breakdown, I’m too numb.
My mind is a fractured, broken place where thoughts of murder and molestation dwell. When they don’t, reveries of my mother and father take up in their place.
Ardesia enters the room, touching Luca on the shoulder and nodding toward me.
Luca snorts awake. It would be endearing under any other circumstances. “What’s wrong?” he says, looking around as the book hits the floor from his lap.
“Nothing. I came to speak with you. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Luca eyes me, pity softening his stare. “You alright?”
I don’t speak, only blink.
His lips thin before he stands and walks out of the room with Luca.
In his wake, Brynne saunters in and picks up the book, setting it on the edge of the bed as she drops into the chair. She’s a beautiful woman, and her edge feels like the sharpest thing I’ve ever seen.
I wish I were that strong.
I thought I was.
Until I stabbed Matteo Barone’s corpse in a violent rage, and something inside me snapped.
“No, she doesn’t need to leave here,” Luca says, and my ears perk.
Brynne clears her throat, rubbing her temples as the men argue in veiled mutters outside my door.
“She needs help, Luca. Look at her. It’s been two weeks, and she’s wasting away.”
Two weeks?
It can’t have been that long…
“I’m handling it. She needs time,” Luca counters, and a warmth spreads through me at his words. It’s the first thing I’ve felt in… Well, I guess two weeks.
“Sometimes, I have to make choices that others don’t like. This will have to be one of those times, Luca.”
“You can’t just can’t just show up and take her out of our home unwillingly.”
I peel back the covers and head for the door, Brynne’s eyes boring through my back. Swinging it open, I stand tall against the ache in my body from far too many days in bed. “I’m staying here.”
My voice came out like a husky whisper. I clear my throat and repeat my former words.
“Listen,” Ardesia says with a sigh.
I shake my head. “No. My home is with Luca. I’m staying here.”
“You need to eat. We’re worried…”
“Did my rescue cause a war for you? Have the families retaliated?” I ask him, throwing him off balance with the question.
He looks at Luca, and Luca shrugs.
“No. It hasn’t. If anything, it’s quieted the city. They know I can get to them if I can take down Barone.”
I nod. “Then I no longer need your protection. Leave.”
Luca bristles, shifting on his feet. “Sloane, that’s…”
Ardesia raises his hand to silence Luca. “She’s fine. I’m used to dealing with fiery women; I can handle her.”
Brynne’s chuckle comes from behind me, but I don’t smirk.
I can’t.
“I’m staying with Luca,” I repeat, and Ardesia lifts his hands in defense.
“Fine.” He turns toward Luca. “I still say she needs to be in an institution. What you endured is hard on the psyche.”
“We’ll keep it in mind.”
Ardesia and Brynne leave, and I heave an exhale.
“It’s good to see you up, little dove.”
I turn, padding back to the bed and sliding under the covers, my back facing Luca.
His sigh makes guilt wash through me like the pelt of rain in a summer storm.
I wish I could be what he needs right now, but I can’t.
I only need more sleep…
I slowly sip from the water cup left on my nightstand, letting it coat my stomach and soothe some of the headache I know is from not eating or drinking.
Luca is still in the chair, but the book is open and splayed on his chest this time.
He’d been reading A Study in Scarlet before he fell asleep, and he was at a good part, too. I stayed awake for a while, watching his worried features soften as the dreamworld cradled him tightly in its arms and soothed him.
I know this is hard for him, my being mute and bedridden, but I have to work at my pace.
Stabbing Matteo’s corpse was one thing, but losing control of myself felt…scary.
It was like everything I’ve ever dealt with bubbled up to the surface and took over me.
As I watch Luca smirk in his sleep, his eyes fluttering behind his lids, and his brain conjures something peaceful for him to surround himself with momentarily, I wonder how I will ever tell him about Matteo and what happened.
How I came, with thoughts of him touching me, swirling through my brain.
I know it wasn’t my fault. It’s my brain’s way of keeping me sane and alive, but shame has been my bedfellow since it happened.
It’s part of why the weight of the world feels debilitating.
Luca’s eyes open and blink a few times to clear the sleep from them. “Good morning,” he says.
He knows I never speak back, but he still speaks to me—tells me whatever he’s doing as he moves through the routine of caring for me.
“Good morning,” I whisper back, and he tries to hide shock at my uttered words.
“How are you feeling today?” he asks, closing the book with a bookmark and setting it on the side table.
He leans forward, resting his hand on the side of the bed near mine.
He’s close enough for comfort and far away that I don’t feel uncomfortable. He’s always so considerate.
I haven’t even dealt with the fact that he left the church for me.
I can’t fathom it on top of everything else.
I failed in my mission to not become the reason that his life was a dumpster fire.
Add it to the list of things I’ve fucked up around me.
It’s getting quite long.
“I’m alright,” I reply, pushing up to sit, dangling my legs over the edge of the bed.
The room spins, and he grabs me.
His hands are a steady force on my shoulders—invariable.
“I’m sorry,” he says, pulling his hands back as if my skin burned him. “I wasn’t thinking.”
A pit burrows in my stomach as the water I drank mixes with the realization I have him so uncertain of how to behave in his own home.
Our home, he’d called it.
I can’t deal with that fact yet, either.
“It’s okay. Thank you. I drank some water, but I’m dizzy now.”
He eyes the glass I drained, and a smile breaks free. “That you did. You need more than water, though. I’ll get you more and a yogurt, maybe. Do you think you can stomach that?”
I nod, gripping the blankets beneath me as nausea swims in my stomach.
He’s back in a flash, helping me lean against the headboard of the bed and spoon-feeding me yogurt like I’m a sick child who can’t lift her plastic spoon. “I was worried that you wouldn’t come around.”
I swallow the third spoonful of yogurt, already feeling marginally better. “Were you worried you were going to have to drop me off at the institution?”
He sighs. “I didn’t want you to hear all that. It’s my fault. I got loud, and Ardesia matches energy.”
I fake a smile as he gives me some water.
“I would never do that to you, Sloane. You know that, right?”
Do I?
Searching his eyes for the truth, I feel a warm calm spreading through me as his steady, unwavering eyes peer back at me.
“I know.” My reply has his shoulders slumping in a release of tension.
“Good.”
Once the yogurt is gone, renewed energy spikes through me, and I drink the rest of the glass of water he hands me.
“I don’t know how to pick up the pieces,” I say to him, breaking a comfortable silence.
“I’m sure it feels daunting,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “What you endured is unfathomable to me. I don’t know that I’d have the strength to endure it. Even with my God to cling to. Sloane, I’m so sorry it took us so long to get you; I had to play by Ardesia’s rules.”
I swallow. “I understand. Everything he did to me wasn’t what bothered me most, if I’m honest. It was how I ca—” I close my lips, blush peppering my skin in bloodied tones.
Luca leans over, placing his hand near mine. “You can tell me anything. I will never judge nor tell another soul. If you don’t want to, that’s fine, too.”
Such an understanding, beautiful man.
I lick my lips, closing my eyes for strength. “There was a night Matteo came to me, he…” I swallow for strength. “He molested me. I was asleep. I thought… I was dreaming and….”
Luca’s hand covers mine in warm confidence, and I open my eyes.
“I came because I was dreaming of you. It’s why I think I lost it when I stabbed him. Not only did everything from my past spur me on, but he took away something meaningful. He ruined something for me.”
Sobs breaks free for the first time since Luca brought me home, and his eyes beam with hope, floating in them. My show of emotion is a step in the right direction.
“Little dove, it’s alright,” he tells me, getting on the bed and wrapping around me from behind.
“No, it’s not. He made me betray you. Not out here but in here…” I tap my head as I cry, snot and tears mixing on my face.
He tugs on my wrist, coaxing me to roll over to face him, and I do.
For a long moment, he only softly wipes away my tears and brushes my hair back. “No one can take what we have, little dove. You didn’t come for him; you came for me.”
His words settle, and my stomach untangles.
“That you had me with you at all, and I was some comfort, makes me feel good, Sloane. I couldn’t get to you, and it was killing me.”
His eyes swim with emotion, and I bury myself into his chest, letting his heavy arms of steady comfort lull me into letting more emotion go.
There are no more words. I confessed what I thought would ruin us, and Luca tossed away all my worries with one smooth dismissal.
Maybe we’ll be alright.
I hope we’ll be alright.