Chapter 4 #2
Leo appears by my side as we exit the back door.
He drags a hand down his face, shaking his head as he walks toward his bike and swings a leg over one side.
“I’ll give Vin the info from Johnny and I’ll…
” He clasps his hand around the accelerator, looking awkwardly between us.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” His tires squeal out of the parking lot as he disappears down the freeway.
My chest feels too damn tight as if I can’t get enough oxygen into my lungs.
Carefully, I place Alina on her feet and quickly turn, not wanting to look at her cause fuck me. I bite my knuckles and begin to pace back and forth beside the dumpster as snow falls continuously around us. I try to take steady, calming breaths as I rub my chest.
But it’s not fucking working.
Why am I this worked up?
A chattering of teeth has me spinning on my heels, and I see Alina’s fingers shake as she puts on her glasses and immediately looks down at the ground. She wraps her arms around herself, shivering against the cold that surrounds us.
I don’t hesitate as I remove my jacket and then walk over to her, arranging it around her body, pleased to find that the material engulfs her, falling just past her knees, and shrouding around her midsection like a giant blanket.
She eagerly slides her arms into the sleeves and sighs, closing her eyes as she pulls the hood up over her long strands of brown hair.
Turning away, I unlock my truck and hold the passenger door open for her.
Her eyes open, and I watch as she swallows nervously before approaching the vehicle and climbing inside.
I hand her the bag the woman gave me, which she tucks by her feet, and then shut the door behind her before making my way to the other side.
Once inside, I turn on the car, my knuckles grasping the steering wheel, as I look straight ahead, taking another deep breath that fogs up the window beside me.
Trying anything to calm my racing heart.
Noticing her hands on her lap, which appear almost blue, I adjust the heat to its highest setting before reaching across the console and covering her hands with mine, rubbing them back and forth.
She freezes, her eyes looking up beneath her dark lashes.
I slide my hand into my pocket, retrieve my phone, and open my notes app.
Seeing that I can’t just say whatever the hell I want whenever I want, I rely on my phone a lot.
So much so that typing or writing has become second nature to me, the fastest way to get my thoughts expressed to others when needed.
I face the screen toward her. What the fuck was that?
She shakes her head, fighting back tears while turning toward the door, curling into herself. “I don’t know,” she whispers, staring out the frosted glass.
Looking away from me.
I type on my phone and then rest my hand on her shoulder, waiting for her to face me, which she eventually does.
Please don’t turn away from me when I’m trying to talk to you.
She twists in her seat. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” Her bottom lip begins to quiver. “That was rude of me.” Her eyes blur with tears. “I didn’t mean… I’m sorry,” she says again, but softer this time.
I reach over, my fingers gently gripping her chin. I tilt her face up until our eyes meet. And for whatever reason, it causes the tears in hers to break free. Each one slowly crawling down her porcelain cheeks. My thumb brushes across her skin, wiping them away.
“I’m so embarrassed,” she admits. She removes her glasses to swipe at her eyes. “And of course, you of all people were there.”
My brows furrow, and I quickly type on my phone.
What does that mean?
She shakes her head. “Nothing. I just meant…” She rests the side of her head against the headrest, keeping her eyes on me. “This is probably one of the worst days of my life.”
Let me take you home.
“I…” She swallows hard and rolls in her bottom lip, glancing down at her lap. “I don’t want to go home.” Her eyes look up, meeting mine. “I don’t think I want to be alone right now.”
I nod in understanding. Madeleine’s?
She shakes her head. “No, definitely not.”
I know I shouldn’t, but I drop my phone between us and sign, My house?
Her lips part, but she doesn’t comment on the use of my sign language. Instead, she nods. “Okay.”
Facing forward, I wrap my fingers around the steering wheel and accelerate out of the parking lot, making for the direction of home.
Usually, I would drive a bit faster, but not right now.
Not when there’s precious cargo beside me.
As we drive through the iron gates, bypassing the guards on duty, I start to feel…nervous?
Probably because I don’t allow anyone but my family in my space, and this will be the first time I’ve ever had a guest.
Yeah, that’s all this feeling is.
We drive for minutes through the winding roads, the forests growing denser around us, before I eventually turn down a hidden path that leads to my house.
As we come to a stop before my front steps, her eyes take in the intimidating presence, her lips parting in awe.
“This is your home?” she questions quietly, her eyes raking over the dark structure, which is partially built within the side of a mountain.
She turns toward me, waiting for my response, but I’m unsure whether she likes it, and to be honest, I’m not sure why that bothers me.
A soft smile appears on her face. “It’s beautiful. ”
One side of my lips slowly lifts before quickly stopping.
Clearing my throat, I step out of the vehicle, my boots landing with an impact in the snow.
She walks around the front of my truck with her bag placed beneath her arm, and when my eyes see her heels sinking in the snow, it takes everything inside me not to sweep her off her feet and carry her across the damn threshold.
Quickly, I unlock the door and gesture for her to step inside before me. She takes a few steps and then abruptly stops.
“This is insane,” she breathes, her eyes trailing over every square inch of my home.
It’s an open space that showcases almost every room on the first floor.
Windows surround the entire back of the house, offering a pristine view of the clear night sky and rugged landscape.
Green plants take up space throughout, providing a cool touch to the warm shades of brown and the black that serve as the primary colors, using wood and natural resources.
The living room features a deep-brown leather sectional and recliners that face the ten-foot stone fireplace, which was specially designed for the room.
Dark stone archways outline the kitchen, which features a long black marble island imported from Italy.
This is my home.
“Oh my God.” She sidesteps me, walking directly toward the water feature—a koi pond containing a dozen or so fish that also call this place home.
She stares at the crystal-clear water, entranced by the large fish that swim throughout.
Some appear to be hiding beneath the lily pads while others come to the surface, curiously peering up at her. “You have a pond…in your home?”
I stand beside her and reach for the canister of fish food, using a cup to shake pellets into the water. The fish greedily come to the surface, eating everything I’ve dropped for them.
She shakes her head, spinning around with astonishment in her eyes. “This is truly something else. No wonder you like to spend so much time here.”
My chest fills with pride from her words.
I hook a finger, motioning for her to follow me toward the back wall. My hand fastens around the silver handle, and I slide one of the large glass doors partially open. I step onto the deck and gesture with one of my arms for her to follow me, and when she does…
“Mauro…” Her eyes shine as she stares at the mountains, lit only by the moon and stars, stretching for as far as the eyes can see.
Dark and imposing yet beautiful and welcoming.
An image worth painting. “This is breathtaking,” she says softly as she gets lost in the view, fastening her arms around herself.
She’s cold.
And it’s bothering me, so I walk back to the door and wait for her to follow me. She takes one last look before facing me and stepping back inside.
I cross the room, approaching the fireplace to stack pieces of wood on top of one another before crouching down and lighting a match to set the whole thing ablaze. Looking over my shoulder, I find her taking a seat on the end of the couch, placing her bag on the floor.
She kicks off her heels, letting them drop to the floor, and then tucks her feet beneath her thighs. My coat bunches around her like a comforter, keeping her covered.
Thank God.
I sit in my favorite chair, my fingers running over the worn leather arms from so much use over the years.
We both look at the fire, neither one of us knowing what to say or do.
So, once a few minutes pass, I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees and arching a brow in a silent gesture to let her know that the floor is hers.
She directs her attention toward her hands clamped together on her lap, her cheeks flushing a soft shade of pink.
“Well, you see…” She gazes around the room, pulling at the top of the jacket.
Please, for all that is holy, do not take off my coat.
I bite down on the inside of my cheek as I watch her inhale deeply.
“Do you have anything to drink?” She laughs softly.
“I think I might need some liquid courage for this conversation.”
Nodding, I stand and approach the whiskey barrel in the corner, opening the side of it. I pull out a bottle of my favorite whiskey and two glasses, quickly pouring some liquid into each.
As I hand one to her, our fingers graze, our eyes briefly locking before she accepts the glass and looks away.