Chapter 26
Matteo
Walking into my apartment, I slam the door behind me. “Pick up,” I mutter angrily. My ire ratchets higher with each unanswered ring.
“Hello—”
“Anthony!” I belt out as I pace about the room. Trying to collect myself, I bring my volume down. “If you aren’t too busy, would you mind sending two competent guards over to watch Sydney’s car?”
“Yes. Yes, sir. I just got off of the phone with them. It won’t happen again.”
I would’ve fired them myself, but I couldn’t leave her unattended, should she decide to leave the building. And I’m already taking too many chances with her lately. If my father’s men are tailing me, I could lead them right to her.
“How the hell are they supposed to catch anything nefarious if one of them has earbuds in watching a moving on Netflix?” My voice rises as I bellow into the phone, “And the other is taking a nap?” The one chuckling at something on the screen almost shit himself when I yanked him up by his collar.
“You’re right, Matteo. They’re new. I take full responsibility. It’s no excuse, but we’ve added so many people so quickly... well, it won’t happen again.”
“Be glad I caught them before any of Vincenzo’s men could get past them. Or their next job would be guarding plankton at the bottom of the Chesapeake Bay.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Have you made any more headway on getting that security system installed in her house?” I still can’t believe she hasn’t changed the locks since I left.
“We have everything we need to take care of it. But I’m not sure how she’s supposed to get in once the alarm is set?”
Yeah, not looking forward to this conversation. But it has to happen. She’s been taking far too many chances as it is. “I’ll let her know it’s being installed. Once it’s in, call her and ask her to come by so you can teach her how to operate it. Pretend you’re from the alarm company.”
“That will work.”
“Can you get it up and running first thing in the morning?”
Papers rustle for a moment before Anthony answers. “Yes. She’s got surgery early tomorrow. We should have everything ready to go before lunch.”
“Thank you. And, Anthony.”
There’s a noticeable pause. “Yes, sir?”
“I want those two imbeciles fired the minute you’ve replaced them with experienced guards. Better yet, transfer them to Giovanni. Let him know what happened. I’m sure he’ll find something suitable for them.” Perhaps cleaning dildos or butt plugs, after he tears them a new one for their behavior. My cousin has no tolerance for incompetence. And better to keep these neanderthals under our thumb than risk any wagging tongues of resentment once they’ve been terminated.
“Got it, boss.”
Disconnecting the call, I toss my phone onto the kitchen counter and run my hand through my unruly hair. I’m surprised there’s any left after catching sight of those two bungling assholes. Sure, sitting for hours with nothing happening isn’t the most riveting job in the world. But that’s what they signed up for. What they’re trained to do. Not take turns napping while the other binges rom-coms.
Guess I should be grateful they weren’t watching porn.
Slumping into my desk chair, I open the camera feed tied to our house.
Our house .
Sydney’s right. I am delusional. But as long as she’s left the locks unchanged, I’ll take that as a sign. Sassy little brat or not, she wants me there. I’ll have to use the old “better to ask forgiveness than permission” model when approaching the alarm system installation with her. But I can’t trust this woman to make sound decisions regarding her safety. Hell, she opened the back door to Josef in her skimpy nightwear. Only to turn around and open her door to me.
The man who’s already proven how much damage he can cause her.
Flipping through the various screens, I breathe a sigh of relief that everything seems on the up and up. I have to trust in Anthony to ensure she’ll make it home safely.
Pushing up from the desk, I head into the kitchen. I admit, I was tempted to open the bottle of scotch I have hidden under the sink behind the cleaning products when I walked in. But somehow, I’m keeping my wits about me.
I haven’t had a drink since I returned home from Rome. Not that I’m under the illusion that I can conquer this on my own. Luca was right. I’m at a crossroads. The timing sucks with the threat of Vincenzo’s men afoot. But I can’t keep putting this off. The sooner I enter rehab, the better.
Pouring a glass of water, I walk over to my couch. Placing it on the end table, my fingertips skim over the latest book I’ve been reading. I’d found an English version in the waiting area of our auto body shop. A client must’ve left it behind. I’d nearly tossed the book, thinking it looked like a romance my wife would’ve enjoyed. Yet this particular book was so intriguing I decided to search for an Italian version. While I speak both Italian and English, I admit I struggle a little with the deeper meaning of certain passages when not written in my native tongue. And translation apps only further mangle the prose.
The popular book had been made into a movie as well as translated into multiple foreign languages. As luck had it, I was able to find one in Italian in addition to the English version left at the body shop. Lifting the two books, I open each to the last place I’d highlighted passages.
“The Heart is a lonely hunter with only one desire. To find some lasting comfort in the arms of another’s fire. Driven by a desperate hunger to the arms of a neon light, the heart is a lonely hunter when there’s no sign of love in sight.”
I must have read and reread this passage too many times to count. The poignant words of a writer so young had me awestruck with emotion. Carson McCullers was ahead of her time. It’s utterly amazing to me that this twenty-three-year-old’s first novel could read like a poet three times her age.
“The Heart is a Lonely Hunter,” written in 1940, was set in a small town in the deep south. I’d been captivated by the description of the book. One reviewer described the novel as a Southern Gothic tale of eccentric isolated misfits and outcasts. The main character was a deaf-mute who was befriended by an unlikely cast of characters. A café owner, a young girl, a black doctor, and an angry drunkard. They were all drawn to his gentle, sympathetic nature. Any guesses on which I related to most?
I flip through the highlighted pages, running my fingers over some of my favorite lines. There are honestly so many, I could’ve colored the whole book yellow. “How can the dead truly be dead when they still live in the souls of those who are left behind?” This line always makes me think of my mother. Though she’s no longer here, her spirit lives on in Antonia, Luca, and me. It’s because of her influence, we were able to walk away from our father’s life. Determined instead to put good back into the world.
“The most fatal thing a man can do is try to stand alone.” My fingertip underlines the words in awe. It’s so true.
Leaving my wife in order to keep her safe sent me into a tailspin. The worst kind of depression imaginable. If it weren’t for the innate need to protect her, I could’ve locked myself away in my own private hell.
Yet if there’s one thing the drinking has taught me, it’s that I can’t do this alone. I need the support of my family. If nothing else, than to reassure me Sydney is safe when I take the steps necessary to finally break the chains alcohol has on me. And I’m determined to do just that.
Gazing down on a worn section of the book, I reflect on a line that never ceases to give me pause. “We are homesick most for the places we have never known.” I could argue the opposite is true. Just as with the Alfred lord Tennyson quote, “It’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.” Really? Because having lost Sydney is a torment I wouldn’t wish on anyone.
Considering this has me flicking through the ink covered pages until I land on a highlighted passage I’ve turned to so often, the book automatically opens right to it. “The way I need you is a loneliness I cannot bear.” If my wife only knew. There’s nowhere I’m more homesick than Sydney’s arms.
Nowhere .
Putting the books down, I drop my head back against the back of the couch. I take in a fortifying breath, trying to calm the war within me. Anything to stay away from that damn bottle.
Returning to my desk, I flip from one camera feed to another. I glance at my watch, wondering if she’s made it home. She’s been spending more time with her friends lately. This makes me happy. Knowing she’s happy. Even if they’re likely telling her to stay far away from me.
And they’d be right. Even if I can’t seem to stay away.
The black and white image of her hallway makes me stop temporarily. Zooming in, I can see what appears to be steam trailing from the cracked bathroom door into the hallway. Hell, now I’m going to be picturing soapy water caressing her flawless skin. Remembering the way the droplets would hang precariously from her nipples when we showered, prompting me to lick and suck… I reach up, yanking my hair with my hands.
Yep, I’m going to end up bald because of this woman.
Getting up, I decide to go for a run to clear my head. Otherwise, I’ll be tempted to break into her house myself. Looking for comfort in the arms of Sydney’s fire.