Chapter 5
Five
Harper
Zeke is situated between Luca and me on the mattress. With every intense clap of thunder, my son startles awake, making it impossible for me to sleep. Not that I even want to close my eyes. The moment I do, I keep seeing images flood my mind of him, the man who snatched my little boy from bed.
His cries are shrieks of terror, and I rub his back, trying to lull him back into a peaceful slumber.
“It’s okay,” I whisper, giving him hugs and kisses, reminding myself that he’s safe.
My back is either to the window or the door.
I don’t feel safe.
Luca stirs, and his eyelids flutter open. I wouldn’t expect him to be able to sleep through the sheer terror in Zeke’s cries.
“Mama, bad men come.” Zeke’s sobbing, and I pull him from the bed, holding him against my chest, rocking him.
“It was just a bad dream,” I whisper, kissing his sweaty forehead, trying to reassure him that he’s safe, that I’m here to protect him.
Luca sits up in bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His voice is rough with slumber. “Where are you going?”
“Just into the living room. Can’t sleep, and Zeke is keeping you awake.” I reach for the doorknob.
“Please, don’t.” Luca climbs out of bed, and he offers to take Zeke, but my little boy clings tighter to me, his grip unrelenting.
“No, Daddy. Want Mama.” Zeke sniffles and rubs his face into my neck. I hold him tight, trying to offer what little strength I carry to him.
“Mama is right here.” I drop another kiss on his forehead. He’s restless and growing more awake.
Makes two of us, possibly three, when I glance at Luca, who doesn’t appear to be climbing back into bed.
“I don’t want you alone,” Luca says. “If you’re awake, I’m awake.”
Sighing, that isn’t what I intended. I follow him back to bed, lay Zeke down between us, and resume my position on the mattress. I lie on my side, my hand protectively over Zeke, my gaze on Luca as he stalks around the bed.
“Scoot over.”
I glance at him over my shoulder, raising an eyebrow.
This is my side of the bed.
“But you sleep on that side—”
“Do you always have to argue with me?” Luca’s jaw ticks, and I relent, shuffling Zeke over to Luca’s side of the bed, and I’m in the middle.
Luca pulls back the covers, and there’s a slight breeze before he climbs into bed, his body nestled against mine, his breath against my neck. “Better,” he says, wrapping an arm around my waist. He pulls me closer, tighter.
Luca’s breath is warm, his hands firm. “I’ve got you.”
I suck in a sharp breath and feel a tear glide down my cheek. Holding my breath, I try not to cry.
Zeke lies on his stomach, his head turned away, and I rub his back, trying to lull him to sleep. He’s restless and fussy, and with each bolt of lightning and rumble of thunder, he startles awake, screaming.
The sound of his anguish shakes me to my core. It’s gut-wrenching.
Eventually, he falls back asleep, but time and time again, he’s startled awake.
My body tenses and my heart thrums wildly as my breathing intensifies. I don’t dare look at the clock. I doubt I’ll get much sleep tonight.
I can’t tell if Luca has fallen asleep. He doesn’t stir and I do my best not to move, trying to let him and Zeke sleep as much as possible.
When Zeke finally drifts back to sleep, his sniffles turning to soft snores. I allow my eyes to close in the darkness.
It isn’t long before the nightmares come, terrorizing me with visions of Santino holding my son and me pulling the trigger. Except this time, I miss Santino and shoot Zeke.
I gasp, eyes flashing open, realizing I’m safe in my bed and I reach over, making sure Zeke is beside me.
“Bad dream?” Luca’s hold on me tightens, his breath warm and soft, with kisses peppering my shoulder and neck.
My shoulders are tense; my stomach is wound into a knot that can’t be undone.
Wordlessly, I nod and shuffle back into Luca’s embrace, his hold tightening around me. “Love you,” he murmurs against my neck, dropping a soft kiss behind my ear.
It feels impossible to sleep soundly. The few hours I do get, I’m awakened to either Zeke crying or from nightmares, leaving my heart pounding and adrenaline bursting. It’s hard to fall back asleep after either.
Luca is already gone this morning, at the gym with his teammates before breakfast.
I didn’t even hear him climb out of bed.
I suppose I got a few minutes of sleep, it just wasn’t restful. I give Zeke his favorite sugary cereal with marshmallows, and he picks at it, his appetite not quite typical. After, I get him dressed and take him over to daycare, where he also has preschool classes a couple of hours a day.
Usually, he likes walking by himself, but today he wants me to carry him. When we arrive at the facility, he refuses to be put down, clinging to my arms. “No, Mama.”
“Hey, Zeke,” one of the helpers says, buzzing us inside past the double doors.
“Thanks.” I force a smile and walk with him to his classroom. He doesn’t so much as loosen his death grip around my neck.
“Good morning, Zeke,” his teacher, Miss Adderly, says. She’s maybe got a year or two on me, not much more. There are multiple assistants who help with the kids as part of their early education curriculum.
He buries his face in my neck, pretending not to notice her.
“We’re going to work with finger paints today. Isn’t that fun?”
I try to untangle from Zeke’s grip around my neck, but I have zero success.
“Did something happen at home?” Miss Adderly asks, noticing Zeke’s unusual demeanor. Typically, he runs into class excited to play with the other kids.
Not today.
Zeke’s eyes widen as he stares at me. He opens his mouth, and I answer before he can say anything incriminating.
“The storm broke a window in Zeke’s room when he was sleeping. It was a rough night.”
Zeke pulls back, staring at me. “Mama shot a bad guy.”
I force a smile and laugh. “Kids and their overactive imaginations.”
Miss Adderly can’t honestly believe I shot someone. I’m sure she’s heard it all before, the craziest stories from the kids she teaches.
She glances at me peculiarly, and I smile, laughing again to disarm the situation. “That’s right, we were playing a retro game, Duck Hunt, this weekend on Nintendo.”
“That sounds fun,” Miss Adderly says with a warm smile, the tension disappearing from her shoulders.
Zeke stares at me, his brow furrowed, and I pepper him with kisses. “Are you ready to go play with your friends?”
I shoot a quick text to Luca after dropping Zeke off at daycare.
Me: Can you meet me for lunch?
Luca: Dining hall, noon?
Me: Yes.
Luca: Everything okay?
Me: Not really.
I can’t tell him what’s wrong, not over text. I hurry toward my advertising class: Social Media and Personal Branding, and glance at my phone, when I feel it vibrate with a new message.
Luca: I love you.
His words bring a smile to my lips. I quickly send him a text back before shoving my phone into my sweater pocket.
Me: I love you too.
I’m grateful that at least my classes are going well this semester.
I’m actually enjoying school, more than I had been freshman year with all gen eds.
The worst class I’m taking is Consumer Data and Society, which isn’t hard, but it is a bit dull.
It’s still not as bad as Econ 101 or that dreaded Statistics class I took last year.
Without Luca, I’d have undoubtedly failed both of those classes.
Class breezes by and I have a massive assignment that’s due next Friday. I head from one class to the next, until it’s finally lunchtime and I get to meet up with Luca. I hurry across campus, making it to the dining hall and spot him waiting in the foyer for me.
“Hey,” he whispers and pulls me into his arms, his lips on mine. One hand tangles in my hair and the other is secure around my hip, holding me firmly against him.
I break from the kiss first, bringing my hand up to his cheek.
“What’s going on?” he asks, his voice raspy and fueled with concern. His brow is tight, the curves of his lips turned downward.
“I dropped Zeke off at daycare this morning.” I keep my voice down, careful that no one overhears our conversation.
He’s waiting for me to elaborate.
“He was clingy and he said something to his teacher that I don’t want to repeat.”
Worry etches across his face and body. His shoulders tense. “How bad is it?” he asks, his gray blue eyes darkening.
“I think we might have to buy a retro Nintendo console and Duck Hunt.”
He snorts and hangs his head with a laugh. “Is that it?”
“It’s not funny, Luca.” I grit my teeth.
How can he be laughing right now? I yank his arm and drag him outside into the cool autumn air.
I glance around, making sure no one is around to hear us.
I pull him away from the double doors toward the side of the building.
“Zeke told his teacher I shot a bad guy.”
The smile falters and his expression turns stoic. “And what did you say?”
“That’s when I gaslit my son and told Miss Adderley that we had been, in fact, playing Duck Hunt.” I bite my bottom lip, absolutely hating what I’ve done. Ashamed, I avert my stare. “I’m a terrible mother.”
Luca wraps his arms around me, crushing his body to mine as he hugs me. “You’re not,” he whispers against my forehead. “You’re just trying to protect him.”
“By lying to him?” My voice raises an octave and I wince, when I notice someone heading into the dining hall. I have to keep my voice down. “I don’t want to lie to my son.”
“He can’t handle the truth, he’s too young,” Luca reminds me. His hand draws my neck upward, forcing me to meet his gaze. “We’ll figure this out, as a family.”
“I don’t want your father to know.”
If Dante thought Zeke might divulge details about the man I was forced to kill, would he have my son executed?
“He wouldn’t hurt—I understand,” Luca says, perhaps realizing the weight of the situation. He forces a smile, but behind his gray eyes, I see the worry and concern. “This stays between us.”
I shiver, from both the cold and the weight of the situation, and he grabs my hand and leads me back inside the dining hall. “I want you and Zeke to come to my game tonight.”
“Of course. I was already planning on us attending.” Tonight is a home game, which makes it easier for me to attend. I’m just hoping Zeke gets a nap in at daycare. Otherwise, he’s likely to be fussy throughout the entire game.
While I used to hate sports, I actually like showing up and supporting Luca and the Narwhals team. Even if I don’t know hardly anything about hockey.
“Harper!” Kensley waves and Brooks nods at us as they’re seated across the dining hall.
“Good. Come on, Harper, let’s go eat.”
We grab our lunch and I steal a seat next to Kensley, since Brooks is sitting across from her. There’s room for one more, and Luca slides into the seat across from me, offering a wry grin.
“What?” I ask, glad his mood has improved. Mine is still a bit sullen, but I put on a forced smile to keep Brooks and Kensley from knowing anything is wrong.
“I got this for you,” Luca says and slides a homemade Rice Krispy treat across the table for me.
My eyes light up. “I didn’t see those up there.” I glance back over my shoulder, wondering where he found it.
“You know, if you love those that much, you can make them,” Kensley quips. “It’s not that hard. I used to make them as kid.”
Luca snorts. “I’m pretty sure if Harper made Rice Krispy treats, Liam and Ashton would kill the entire container in a day. Probably before she even got her first bite.”
“That’s what happened when I made those chocolate mint meltaways. The boys ate the entire batch!”
“I had a few,” Luca admits sheepishly, taking a bite of his burger.
I ball up my napkin and throw it at him. “You guys didn’t save me any!”
“Oh, I’m guessing they were good?” Kensley’s eyes light up. That’s something we both have in common: a sweet tooth.
“I wouldn’t know,” I grumble.
“That’s not true.” Luca tilts his head, staring at me. “I watched you eat one.”
“Yes, I had one. Out of what—three dozen—I ate one measly chocolate. Do you know how long I spent baking those?”
Luca shrugs. “No clue. I didn’t eat that many. Zeke also had a couple.” Another bite of his burger and he smirks at Brooks.
“What? Do I have something on my face?” Brooks asks. He swipes at his mouth and jaw.
I chuckle under my breath. “He’s trying to change the subject.” I know Luca well enough to recognize the silent plea to Brooks; he’s giving him that look that begs for his help.
Brooks is either oblivious or doesn’t care.
I like him even more already because I want to believe he doesn’t care.
Kensley takes a swig of her soda and then clears her throat. “Do you want to meet before the game, make sure we get seats together?”
“Traitor,” I mutter under my breath, and Kensley laughs. I can’t believe she is helping Luca. I would have expected it from Brooks, one of his teammates, not my best friend. “But yes, let’s hang out.”
It’ll be hell not to tell her what’s been going on, how I’m now indebted to the mafia, and hopefully Zeke won’t mention the man I killed in our house last night. Dare I admit, I’m actually looking forward to going to Luca’s parents’ house this weekend.