Chapter Fifteen
Rowan
I set up the guest room for Weeks with everything he’ll need, hoping he’ll feel like he’s at home.
I laugh to myself when I exit the guest room, shutting the door. Weeks’ little welcome present from me. Thank God for Prime delivery.
Luca is back to being weird again. Last night, he sent me to bed but didn’t come to the room for at least two hours. I didn’t ask him about it; I know that we as people need our own time to think and decompress. Do I want to push? Of course, but he gives me my space, so I need to do the same.
Stopping at the fraternity wasn’t on the plan when we headed home, but I needed that final nail in the coffin, so to speak. And seeing it as it is now, I got some closure.
Sucking Luca’s cock while kneeling on their burned ashes and rubble—that was a fuck you to all of them. Taking my voice back, doing what I wanted to do in that space where my free will was taken by them.
I want to give Luca what they took away from me…
I want to give him all of me, every single piece, but even over a year later, I don’t know if I’m mentally there to do that.
It would take a piece of my soul back and place it in the spot where they stole it.
I never thought I’d want a man to have all the control while taking my ass, but this is one thing I’m still scared of.
They scared me both mentally and physically.
The pain that ripped through me was unworldly.
My trust in Luca is profound, but what happens when I decide I’m ready and it comes crashing down, because I truly wasn’t?
I want to take my power back. And with Luca, I can do that. That man worships the ground I walk on.
Placing the roast in the oven, I decide I want to give Luca that part of me I never thought I’d want to give.
This is when it would be a good time to have girlfriends… “Absolutely fucking not,” I reprimand myself, reminding myself why I don’t want them, and I have two words: Catherine Briggs. Just thinking of her makes me want to vomit.
Grabbing a glass, I pour myself some wine, tip it back, swallow it in one gulp, and immediately refill it.
“Wow, what’s the rush?”
I jump back at the voice coming from my living room. “Fuck.” I wipe my chin of the dribbled red liquid before setting the glass down.
Holding up both his hands, he says, “Sorry.” Weeks grins at me, showing that he truly isn’t sorry. Asshole.
“What are we celebrating?” He stands at the bar.
Weeks is tanned and smaller than the other men.
But what he lacks in size, he makes up for in the way he looks; he has a no-shit-taking attitude, tattoos on his neck, and buzzed black hair.
I know little about him, just what he’s told me.
Other than that, I just know Luca trusts him, and that means I should too.
Also, he’s one who likes to enforce on those who have fucked up.
Flashbacks of the garage, Tim, shears, and fingers hit my memory.
Luca surrounds himself with men who walk the same line he does, and I love that about him.
“I have your room all set up for you.” I point upstairs before walking toward him. “It’s the third door on the right.” I leave him with a smile and let him get situated, while I go to look for Luca.
The door leading to the garage opens quietly, not giving me away, when I spot Luca, shirtless, leaning under his car’s hood.
Music plays, and he’s in a totally different world as I take him in.
The way his back muscles move with each movement, the enormous burning tree tattoo on his back glistens with perspiration.
My eyes roam to his hands, watching them work magically, just knowing how magical they truly are.
Using the doorframe to prop myself up, I take slow sips of my wine, enjoying the show.
This man is everything I could have ever dreamed up for myself.
Everything I never knew I needed or wanted.
I smile behind my wineglass as he finally notices another presence in the garage.
When he makes eye contact with me, his hair falls into his eyes.
“Hey, baby.” It comes out gruffly. I walk toward him, licking my lip, tasting the wine before leaning into him, letting him get a taste of it.
Pulling back, he smiles at me. “Weeks all set up?”
Laughing, I say, “I’m sure he is.”
Luca squints at me as he wipes his greasy hands. “What was that laugh for?”
“I left him a little surprise up there. Something to keep his bed warm for him.”
With the last word leaving my mouth, I hear my name called out, “Rowan!”
I straighten up, holding in my laugh when Luca yells, “In here.”
“Traitor!” I jerk my head around to look at him.
He blows me a kiss. Fucker.
I choke on my laugh when Weeks bursts in holding a blow-up doll; the leg folds in half as he walks through the doorway.
“Seriously?” Weeks shakes the doll.
From behind me, I hear Luca lose it. “What the fuck.”
“Welcome home,” I maniacally laugh out.
Weeks stands the doll up next to him and places his finger inside its open plastic mouth. “Hey, I think this will work.”
“You did this.” Luca saddles up next to me.
“I wonder if Thomas would be offended to get a used Christmas gift?” Weeks asks before tossing the doll toward Luca. It falls to the floor at our feet.
“Put a maid's outfit on it first, then you’re golden.” I cackle, and the garage erupts in belly laughs.
I leave the guys and Dolly to check on dinner, smiling my way inside. Maybe this won’t be too weird.
With the dinner table set, I open the garage door and am met with mummers when Luca and Weeks both turn to me, Luca pocketing his phone as his face conveys what his mouth doesn’t. Something is up.
My eyes bounce between them before creasing my eyebrows. I say nothing about it. “Come and eat.” I leave them both to follow.
Weeks is constantly messing with his phone, and I watch the eye contact between him and Luca keep giving each other. There are untold words being said.
“So, Weeks, how’s Gabriela?” I ask, needing to fix the awkwardness at the table.
His face lights up when I speak her name.
“She’s doing so well. I can’t wait to bring my girl home. It’s been a long time coming.”
His daughter is five. That’s about all I know about her.
“Is she with your family right now?”
He takes a bite of his roast, speaking around his mouthful. “No, she’s staying with family friends of mine, where I know she’s completely safe.” There is more intended behind those words.
I want to ask more, but Luca looks at me and gently shakes his head.
Quietness is okay, but not when there are three people at the table.
“Weeks?” He looks at me, eyebrows raised.
“Why do they call you Weeks?” I’ve been curious about his nickname since I found out about him. It’s one I’ve never heard before him.
He laughs, a full belly laugh, which makes Luca chuckle. And I’m sitting at the table, moving my food around, waiting to be in on the joke.
Weeks places his fork down. “You know Niko?” I give him a fucking of course look. He’s insane. My mind flashes back to the crematorium where I watched him and Catherine… My cheeks feel hot.
Clearing my throat, I say, “How couldn’t I?”
“I was a badass kid, didn’t listen to shit, ran with the wrong crowd, was initiated into a gang when I was twelve.”
Holy shit, my eyes widen.
“Yeah,” he nods his head, “a fucking baby. In the few years I was with my gang, I was shot at, stabbed, and jumped too many times to count. My grandmother, Gabriela.” He smiles when he says her name, now knowing where his daughter's namesake came from. “Was best friends with Matteo and Niko. She had had enough, and I didn’t blame her. She sent me to the funeral home to live with them, away from my gang and the only people I thought cared about me.” He lets out a grunted laugh before he picks up his beer, taking a huge gulp.
“My name is Carlos Diaz, but when I met Niko, he looked me up and down, his face anything but friendly, and said, ‘You have weeks, if that.’”
I raise my forehead, confused.
“He was going to kill me. Niko doesn’t like what’s his breached upon, and I was breaching.
I was this bullheaded young gang member, and he saw right through me.
Anytime he referred to me, it was Weeks…
which Matteo started parroting as well. But,” Weeks leans back in the dining room chair, “I lasted more than weeks. And not for Niko’s lack of effort.
That motherfucker is insane, certifiable.
I fucked up and raised my voice to his grandmother.
Before I knew it, I was knocked out and woke up in the cremation chamber. ”
“Oh fuck. Damn, he likes that thing,” I tell him and Luca, who laugh at my comment and my face of horror.
“That was the night I was scared straight. Those two, especially Niko, are the reason I’m the man I am today.
Matteo helped me find employment, becoming security for the queen of the mob.
But now, here I am.” He slams the rest of his beer.
“On that note, I need to call Gabriela’s Godmother. Thank you for dinner, Rowan.”
“You’re very welcome.” Luca and I watch Weeks exit the front door. “Carlos. I can’t call him Carlos; he’s Weeks.” I laugh.
Getting a bit more information about who Weeks is makes me like him even more. I enjoy learning about these men, who are now my family. Even if it’s sprinkled a little at a time, that means they trust me, as I trust them.