23. ~Julian~
23
~Julian~
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Julian.”
I opened my eyes and for the first time in a long time, a residual feeling of pain, shame, and dread didn’t follow, didn’t seep into my conscious state.
“They’re… coming. Run.”
Things last night hadn’t gone as I’d expected.
In more ways that one.
But specifically when it came to Angelo.
I’d actually managed to get through to him. He’d actually fucking heard me.
And it had broken him into pieces.
For a moment in time, he’d come out of that delusional state, or perhaps what he’d purposely convinced himself that reality was, and he’d seen the truth. It had reconnected him with his own pain and I knew he’d recognized that he’d levied that pain on to me. It hadn’t just been for domination purposes, or to teach me a lesson, or whatever the fuck he’d been spouting. A lot of it had been in a bid to pass that agony of the abuse he’d suffered onto somebody else, to cast it out. In a really fucked-up way.
Passing down pain to others in order to make yourself feel better… that was a weak person’s way of handling things. It was obviously the wrong way to handle it. And that was coming from somebody who’d tried many different things in the beginning after what had happened with my father, many different ways to cast all of that poison out. Many of which my therapist had classed as unhealthy ways.
It had taken time—and mistakes—to figure out the way that was right for me and also healthy.
But Angelo hadn’t explored anything beyond causing damage.
Seeing him that way, seeing what had happened to him, how twisted he’d become because he wouldn’t deal with it, because he’d buried it and even reformed it entirely in his mind… it had hit me deeply.
I’d been so close to burying it, too.
I wouldn’t.
I wouldn’t make that mistake.
I’d also thought that putting him down, watching the despicable bastard die right in front of me and by my hands, would give me some solace when it came to all of this.
But that wasn’t what had done it.
That wasn’t where the peace had come from.
In fact, I hadn’t technically even taken his life. He had.
There had been peace in knowing that a threat like him was gone now, that after what he’d done to Cat and Nico, after causing the loss of our child, he’d suffered that fate.
But in the context of the kidnapping and what he’d subjected me to, that peace had come from him acknowledging what he’d done, to essentially retracting all his claims that I’d been into it, to cutting through the shame he’d left me with and then taking it on himself as it originally should have been. As it should be for anyone who subjected someone to what he had.
It was definitely a weight off. I did feel lighter.
But there was more work to be done.
And, for me, for how I now recognized I needed to go about my way of recovering, that involved returning to therapy properly. To giving my full participation.
I went to lift my arm, only to find that it was tangled up in Milo’s.
I smiled as I looked across the bed where I was on one end, Milo beside me, half over me and half over Cat with Nico doing his usual spooning thing to her that had become common practice for him whenever the four of us fell asleep together. I also had my thigh draped over her leg that was across Milo’s abs.
Last night had meant a lot to all of us. Having her back with us, taking our time to worship her like that, rather than going the usual dirty and animalistic route. Even Nico had managed it. Hell, he’d needed it that way too, as I’d seen him recognize halfway into it.
There was definitely more to work through, something that was no doubt going to be trying with the war we were still immersed in.
I carefully eased myself free, then slipped out of the bed.
As I did, I caught sight of the alarm clock and realized that I’d woken up incredibly early. It was barely five in the morning.
And yet I was starving. My stomach was even growling in protest.
I guess going into combat last night combined with the fucking had worked up an appetite. We’d skipped dinner with the arrival of Cat and Stover throwing a wrench into things in that respect.
Time to remedy those hunger pangs now.
I snatched up my boxers and pulled them on, then I headed out of the room.
After making my way down the staircase and nearing the kitchen, I heard grunts of frustration coming from within.
It didn’t sound like Lev. I’d learned that when he was frustrated, it went hand-in-hand with a whole lot of motherfuckers, not merely grunts.
I entered the kitchen and, sure enough, it definitely wasn’t Lev.
In fact, the sight of Joseph Stover instead had me tensing up.
He had his back to the door, and he was sitting up at the kitchen table with a first-aid kit open before him, the contents spilled all over the place. He was just in a pair of jeans and shirtless, blood dripping down his right arm from what appeared to be a nasty stab wound, while he tried to stitch it up. Clearly, he wasn’t having much luck.
“Morning,” he spoke, jolting me.
He’d obviously sensed me, because I hadn’t even made a sound as I walked in.
The guy was good, no doubt. Then again, living in the shadows for years and doing the work that he had, that was to be expected. Kind of a given for survival.
“You’re not gonna be able to stitch that yourself. The angle is too awkward,” I told him, walking over there, and gritting my teeth at the need building in me to help him. As much of an asshole as he was, he also happened to be Cat’s dad.
He turned on the chair, angling himself toward me. Arching an eyebrow, he asked, “What do you know about it?”
“More than I’d like. Milo is the most skilled in this area, but I can hold my own.” I held out my hand for the needle. “Here.”
He frowned and hesitated for a moment before giving it to me.
I examined the wound. It looked like it had been caused by a blade with a serrated edge. And it was deep. So deep that stitches were an absolute necessity. He’d cleaned out any dirt or debris, at least. But we’d need to get him on a course of antibiotics, too.
“This obviously happened last night, so why didn’t you have it seen to?”
“There were other priorities.”
“Like your daughter?”
He nodded. “Like getting her settled here again.”
“So you just bled all over the place last night?”
“I’ll clean it up. It’s just on the sheets in the guest room.”
Lovely. “That’s not what I meant.”
He stared at me, clueless. Wow. “You could have bled out. It was dangerous to your health. That sort of thing?”
He lifted his other shoulder. “I’m fine. The blood loss wasn’t severe. Compression worked for most of the night.”
I shifted my weight, then got down to stitching him up.
“The last person I did this for was Cat’s mom.”
“Bianca? Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Injuries inflicted by Santino?”
I nodded. “He had her beaten. He was gonna have her killed too, if we hadn’t gotten her out in time.”
“Piece of shit,” he growled.
“He really was.”
“ Was,” he mused. “That’s going to take some getting used to.”
“For all of us. Especially Cat.” I looked out at him. “Although, with you now being in the picture as her dad, that should help.”
“Perhaps.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “What does that mean? Are you not planning on sticking around?”
The harshness in my tone was blatant, as a surge of protectiveness toward Cat rolled through me at the idea of him leaving, of fucking abandoning her after dropping this major bomb on her.
As if she hadn’t already had enough to deal with.
There was no way she was going to suffer through more.
“That wasn’t what I meant.” He scrubbed his free hand over his face. “Having me around on a more regular basis may not be beneficial to Caterina.”
“You’re her dad.”
“And you know better than most that it can be the absolute worst thing.”
He’d looked into me. No surprise there with how he’d been with us regarding Cat.
“This is different.”
“I understand that it would be nice to think that, but there’s a lot about me that you don’t know, the way living how I have has made me. I’m not a positive influence or—”
“She doesn’t need a positive influence. She’s not a child. She’s a grown woman who’s developed her own values and direction. Caterina Leone can’t be influenced. Many have tried, and all have failed.” I finished the stitching and snatched up some gauze, starting to wrap the wound to protect it. “But what you can do is give her what you denied her long ago.” Off his raised eyebrow, I spelled it out, “A choice. Let her decide what’s best for herself in regard to you remaining close by or not once all this is over.”
I watched him taking my words in as I saw to the gauze.
And then he smiled.
In the next second, Levi walked in, rubbing his eyes, before his gaze strayed to us, and he did a double take. “Huh,” he said, as he walked to the coffeemaker and set about making some coffee. As he waited for the machine to get to work, he turned and leaned against the counter, eyeing us. “It’s a good thing you didn’t have Rina see to that. She’s not exactly gentle where that’s concerned.”
“Don’t I know it,” Stover said.
“Really?” I asked.
“Definitely not,” Levi confirmed. “She stitched me up once and it was almost worse than suffering the damage from the injury itself. Fucking shit.”
“She sees it as a task that needs accomplishing ASAP,” Stover explained. “She disconnects from all the rest when she’s in that frame of mind.”
“Well, that may have altered now. She used to be like that with Camlann Corporation too, but she’s let a lot more into her life now. Her and I are even partnering.”
“I have seen changes in her,” Stover admitted. “The one regarding this monstrous side of hers is concerning, though.” He looked out at Levi. “Speaking of that, is that why you haven’t been in the field through all of this?”
“Partly. I need to reel things in now that I’ve dealt with those I needed to. And engaging in an all-out combat situation isn’t really conducive to that. Street fighting is one thing, that’s another. Plus, I made a deal with my loved ones that in coming here and being away from them, I wouldn’t put myself in direct, outright danger.”
Stover smiled. “How times have changed. I’m happy for you, Knight.”
“Thanks. I’m happy, too.”
“Told you it was possible, didn’t I?”
Levi grinned. “Well, I thought you were just talking big.”
The two of them chuckled at that. Something a little too dark to laugh about, but then again, considering both of their backgrounds, it made sense.
I finished with Stover’s injury, then stepped back, telling him, “We’ll get you on a round of antibiotics, along with some painkillers, to take the edge off. But in the meantime, take it easy where that injury’s concerned.”
“Understood,” he said, easily. Easily? I guess we were making progress then.
I walked over to where Levi was, as he started pouring a coffee. “Want one?” he asked me.
“I’m all about the food right now, thanks,” I said, heading for the cupboard and pulling out a packet of Maltesers. After taking time to deal with Stover’s injury, I was now well beyond being able to take the time to actually make something proper for breakfast. I needed to take the edge off my hunger pangs first.
As I went to dive into the packet, I pulled up short as something hit me in the gut.
Nico pressed his hand to her belly. “This little baby needs taking care of, Caterina.”
“And we’re making another doctor’s appointment too,” Milo said.
“All right,” she conceded. “Yes, to both those things. But first, I need to eat something really bad.” She looked out at me, pouting her lips.
“Yes, you can finish off my Maltesers,” I told her.
“You need something much more substantial than that,” Milo spoke.
“I will. In the morning. Just a snack for now.”
Milo eyed Nico for support.
“Let her have her snack. It’s clearly some sort of craving.”
“Julian?”
I blinked out of that memory to find Levi eyeing me worriedly. Stover was looking on as well with a similar expression.
“Fine. I’m fine. I just… when she was pregnant, Cat had a craving for one of my favored snacks—these.”
Levi laid his hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Julian. Have the four of you talked about the miscarriage yet?”
“It’s only been a few hours.”
Levi exchanged a knowing look with Stover.
“What?” I asked, looking between them.
“Don’t let it go on too long, is all,” Levi told me.
“She’ll likely try to push it into the background to focus on the war,” Stover said. With a grimace, he added, “I taught her how to bury things when necessary, when rational thought needs to prevail.”
“She might also see the grief as a weakness,” Levi pointed out.
“It’s a normal human emotion.”
“Agreed, but it’s—”
“Caterina. It’s Caterina protocol,” Stover interjected.
I shook my head. No. She’d come a long way from those days.
I mean, sure, there had been a setback with that after the trauma of the miscarriage when she’d agreed to take off with Stover and be apart from us. But that had been complicated by a whole slew of things, including believing she was keeping us safe by drawing those fuckers away.
“It’ll be fine. She’ll express it,” I told them.
Levi looked away, obviously not wanting to directly interfere or go any deeper into it beyond a warning and trying to help us in the right direction.
“Let’s hope,” Stover said, with an ominous tone that I didn’t like. More so, a tone that said he didn’t really have that hope.
No. She was back here with us now and we’d figure everything out.