Chapter 26 - Lena
LENA
“What’s happened?” I’m trying so hard not to panic but my mouth has gone sour, my stomach churning at the thought that something’s happened to Rem. “Where are they? Are they okay?”
“I-I don’t know,” Bianca cries. “Bruce, he came back, covered in blood…I can’t understand what he’s saying, Lena. None of it makes sense.”
“Bia. Bia, try to take a deep breath. In through your nose, out through your mouth. You’ve got to catch your breath before you faint. The baby, Bia…”
I hear another wrenching sob then a deep inhale as Bianca pulls herself together.
“Sorry, I’m just—”
“Don’t apologize. There’s nothing to apologize for. Just tell me what’s going on.”
“The guys left this morning. Johnny didn’t tell me where they were going or who they were meeting, but that’s normal. He keeps me out of the day-to-day Family business as much as possible. I didn’t think anything of it until he didn’t show up for our doctor’s appointment. He doesn’t miss those.”
Bianca takes a shaky breath, continues, “He wasn’t answering his phone.
I didn’t dare call Rem, he’s been in such a foul mood the past few days.
So, I called Bruce. He didn’t answer either.
So, I’ve been screwing up every recipe I’ve started for the past two hours, trying and failing to keep myself distracted, until Bruce walked in—”
Bianca cuts herself off. What sounds like muffled sobs comes through the line.
“I’m so worried, Lena. Bruce is torn up, cuts and blood everywhere.
He says he’s fine, but he won’t tell me anything else.
Won’t tell me what happened or where they were or anything.
He just keeps saying that Rem and Johnny are okay, but he won’t tell me where they are.
And he won’t let me leave the fucking house!
” Bianca’s voice is pitched high, panic amplifying every word.
“What if something’s happened to them? What if Johnny is dying somewhere and I don’t get to see him again?
What if he never gets to meet our baby, what if… .”
I silence a cry with my hand, curling in on myself as a scream builds in the back of my throat.
Bianca doesn’t need to hear me fall apart on top of everything else.
It takes a second to make my voice work.
When I speak everything comes out gravelly.
“He’s going to be fine, Bianca. Johnny and Rem are going to be fine.
Bruce wouldn’t keep you in the dark if Johnny was seriously hurt. He’d tell you if Johnny was dying.”
Wouldn’t he? Bruce wouldn’t keep Bianca away from her dying husband just because he was ordered to, would he?
“I’m going insane, Lena,” Bianca says. “I can’t stay here, doing nothing, not knowing where he is or how badly he’s hurt. I just can’t.”
The same urgency is crawling through me.
I grip the nearby table, trying to anchor myself to something so I don’t collapse.
“I know, Bia. I get it. You can’t do nothing.
So, talk to me. I’ll stay on the phone as long as you need.
Tell me...tell me…” I flounder, not knowing what to say.
She needs a distraction, we both do. “Tell me how you met.”
After a beat of silence Bianca says, “What?” She sounds confused, which is better than broken.
“You and Johnny. Tell me how you met. Tell me what you love about him, and what he does that drives you nuts. Just keep talking. We’ll get through this together, Bia. You and me.”
Her inhale is shaky but after a moment Bianca starts to talk.
I’m only half listening, my brain trying to keep up with her as fear runs roughshod over me.
I interject the occasional hmm and oh, letting Bianca know I’m still here, still with her, but I can’t stop the tears from falling, or calm the dread that’s making it hard to breathe.
All while the same unforgiving question hammers into the back of my brain. What has happened to Rem?
I can’t process it, can’t absorb the possibility that he’s hurt, or worse.
Can’t comprehend that even now he could be injured somewhere and I have no way of getting to him, no way of helping.
No way of even knowing, because right now the penthouse is quiet, no one rushing in to give me any news about my husband.
“So, he was…” Bianca stops her story mid-sentence, her voice cutting out without warning. “Oddio.”
“Bianca?” Nothing. “Bianca,” I repeat, louder.
I hear Bianca cry, the sound of male voices in the background. My vision goes white, a detached calm falling over me as I brace myself for impact.
I’ve done this before.
I’ve been told that someone I love is dead.
With Aunt Mable, I watched it happen before my own eyes.
But even as I wait, body numb, for Bianca to whisper those awful words, I feel a part of myself that’s never existed before, a place deep in my soul that has only just come to life, cry out in anguish.
Because if Rem dies, that part of me will too.
“Lena.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, thankful for the blood that coats my tongue. Thankful for the pain that holds back the deafening scream.
“Lena, he’s here.”
My heart stops, then races. “He? Who?”
“Johnny. He’s here. Oddio. He’s okay. He’s here.” Bianca breaks down and I recognize Johnny’s voice close to the phone, private words I shouldn’t hear. Don’t want to hear.
“But Rem,” I ask in a panic. “Where is Rem?”
Johnny is the one who answers. “He’s okay, Lena. He’s alive.”
“But is he with you?” I’m practically screaming down the phone.
“He’s not here,” Johnny says. “But I swear to you he’s okay and that he’ll be back as soon as he can.”
“That’s it? That’s all I get.”
“Mi dispiace. That’s all I’m allowed to say, Mrs. Cosenza.” Johnny sounds exhausted and I want to hate him for dismissing me like this, but I can’t.
“I know, Johnny. It’s okay. I get it. I’m glad you’re back safe. You need to be with Bianca now. I’ll let you go.”
“Grazie mille. And trust me, Rem is fighting tooth and nail to get back to you as fast as he can.”
With that promise, the line goes dead, and I’m left to wait for my husband, alone.
Three hours later and there’s still no sign of Rem. I have a choice to make: tear out my hair in worry or break everything in our room in rage.
I know I’ll regret both so, clinging to what little sanity I have left, I go to Rem’s office instead.
I don’t know what I hope to find there. The room is dark, as is the hallway leading to it.
The sound of male voices drift from other parts of the penthouse; there’s no question that Rem’s guards are still on duty.
But no one has come to find me, to give me any updates at all.
I don’t know which makes me angrier, the fact that no one has bothered to tell me what’s happened to my husband—my husband included—or that not knowing is short-circuiting my ability to function.
His smell, that woodsy, earthy scent I’ve come to crave so much, envelops me as soon as I walk into his office.
I stand in the doorway, giving myself a moment to breathe it in.
Then I walk through the room, turning on a few of the table lamps as I go.
Once I’m no longer surrounded by darkness, I collapse on the sofa that’s along one side of the office.
The leather is cold. There aren’t any blankets around.
I curl myself into the tightest ball I can manage, wrapping my arms around my knees, teeth chattering from exhaustion and worry and the chill.
Rem’s been gone too long. I don’t want to believe it, but maybe Johnny was wrong. Maybe Rem’s more badly injured than he thought. Maybe Rem is already dead…
The fear chases me around my head, over and over, until my body feels hollow. I swear my skull is going to split open, that my brain is going to spill all over the leather.
Rem can’t die.
Twisted in a jumble of trembling limbs, the only coherent thought I can manage is that Rem can’t die.
My life has taken so many twists and turns since the night he knocked me clear of the snipper’s fire, but as I feel myself breaking apart on the sofa, I know that of everything that’s changed, I’m what’s changed the most. Because I know now, without a doubt, I love Rem.
His strength, his loyalty, his caring nature beneath all the rough edges and dark tattoos. His heart. His unwavering commitment to family.
A family that now includes me.
Tears drip down my face, my trembling now caused by silent sobs. I can’t lose Rem. I’ve survived a lot, but I don’t think I can survive that.
“Piccolina?”
A deep voice drags me back to consciousness. I must’ve fallen asleep. I’m cold, stiff. My nose is stuffy and my eyes feel puffy from crying. That more than anything tells me I’m not dreaming.
That deep voice comes again. “Lena, what are you doing in here?”
“Rem?” I sit upright, almost falling off the sofa in the process.
Strong hands catch me. The faster I blink the faster Rem’s face comes into focus.
He’s covered in something that looks like soot from a fireplace.
There’s dried blood on his jaw and forehead.
The skin around his right eye is a violent shade of purple.
He looks like he’s been through hell. And is absolutely gorgeous.
“Oh my God.” I fling my arms around his neck, tucking my face against the warm skin there. “You’re really here.”
“I am. But why are you?” Rem’s voice is harsh, as is his expression when I pull back.
“Where else am I supposed to be?”
“Asleep. In our room.”
My heart thunders as I take in the rigid lines of his face. The cold fire staring at me from those dark eyes. Confusion and disbelief hit in rapid succession. “Are you…mad at me?”
Rem drops his hands. I feel the loss of heat, of him immediately. “I was looking everywhere for you.”
“Everywhere?”