13. Chapter 13
I stared at Luca sleeping in my bed as I sipped my Scotch. He’d been sleeping a lot over the past few days from all the emotional stress. And who the fuck frowned while sleeping? Jesus. I ran a hand through my hair, shoving back the bangs I really needed to cut.
Luca had killed someone before, and while it had seemed so effortless then, probably due to him protecting me, killing his father was a different story.
The amount of betrayal he must have felt was eerily familiar to me.
I understood that urge all too well. And for the first time, he and I shared a common connection.
To make matters worse, I let my damn dog sleep in the bed with him, not that I had a choice since she refused to leave his side when we got home. His arm was draped over her muscular body and her head rested on his pillow. Spoiled brat. Whatever. As long as she protected him.
The remaining ice left surrounding my heart and soul was shattered by Luca’s breakdown as his pain reverberated through me.
That wailing. Fuck me. I’d never heard anything like it, even from men I hurt and put down.
The sound was guttural, building up straight from his soul.
It was like all his pain and suffering grew and grew until it finally burst with his father’s admission.
And I honestly didn’t see Luca killing his father coming, and I was trained to prepare for all possible scenarios. Once he started shooting, I didn’t stop him, letting him get it all out until the magazine was empty.
If I needed to let him go, now was the time.
I just wasn’t equipped to handle this level of pain, especially when he forced my own pain out.
That horrific day replayed in my mind over and over as Luca sobbed.
Did I sound that way that day? Was this me?
I had been too out of it at the time. But Luca left me shaken to the core, and I didn’t know what to fucking do about it.
Despite needing to let him go, I also needed to hold him tighter.
To protect him from the horror of the world.
But why? He’d been exposed to as much horror as I had already.
Still, this protective side of me wanted to be this archangel he claimed I was.
To hunt down evil souls who hurt children, especially this one sleeping in my bed.
Fuck, I was so wound up. This would’ve been a good time to take a job and to get my rage out, but I had Luca to care for now.
I chugged the rest of my drink like a shot and made my way down to my basement, where I kept exercise equipment, a punching bag, and my arsenal in a locked storage room.
I pulled off my shirt, ignoring the scars on my body in the mirrors lining one wall, and stood in front of the punching bag.
With a deep breath, I let loose all my frustrations and pain with each punch.
Each one represented all my anger that lingered with my father, those men who hurt Luca, Luca’s own bastard father, and my growing attraction to the young man that needed to fucking end.
Perhaps I should’ve wrapped my hands in tape, but the pain and chaffing were better than my internal struggles.
By the time I finished, my hands were cracked and bleeding, and my body was covered in dripping sweat. I panted as I grabbed my T-shirt and made my way to my bathroom upstairs to shower.
T he next morning, I was awake before Luca because he was still emotionally wrecked. Whereas I barely slept from his restless movements and nightmares each night.
I had exchanged phone numbers with Luca’s mother that night, promising her contact with Luca.
She was surprisingly stoic after Luca murdered his own father right in front of her.
Now I knew where he got his strength from.
My bullets exploded on the way out, so there was a lot of gore, and I had to call for a special team to clean it all and take away the body while Layla worked on a cover story explaining his sudden death.
Then his mother called this morning, wanting him back. Begging me to bring him home. I really had no right to him. He belonged with her until he could get on his feet again. She suggested we have lunch today, so that was the plan. Have him get to know her and send him on his way.
I mixed dry and wet food for Cleo in her bowl, then gave her a little pet as she ate like it was her last meal. By the time I set a bowl of fresh water for her on the ground, Luca came in, yawning and rubbing his eyes.
“Morning,” I said.
“Hello.”
I made him some oatmeal with honey and strawberries for breakfast while I just stuck with coffee.
“Your mother wants to have lunch,” I said gently.
He said nothing, stirring his oatmeal but not taking a bite. “So?”
“Luca, she has every right to see you. She just wants to get to know you again.”
“I don’t want to go back.”
I sighed and sipped my coffee, choosing my words carefully. “We’re just having lunch. Simply talk to her. Get to know her. Honestly, I wish I had a second chance with my mother.”
“Fine,” he said, but he didn’t look happy. He was getting too attached to me.
A few hours later, we sat at a table in a little bistro in Georgetown that overlooked the Potomac River. Luca clung to me as if I’d hand him off to his mother and leave forever. While we knew she had nothing to do with his selling to the Russian mob, he still struggled to trust her.
Lunch was awkward and quiet. No one knew what to say, least of all me.
It wasn’t like I had friends or went out and did anything socially, let alone hold a conversation that wasn’t about work.
It wasn’t as if his mother wanted to talk to me, anyway.
I was a fucking killer, and she knew it.
The only thing that kept her from turning my ass in was saving her son and bringing to light her husband’s criminal activities.
That didn’t mean I wouldn’t keep a close eye on her.
“I’m afraid I don’t know what to say,” she whispered.
“How do I talk to my son who has been gone eleven years all because of my husband and after all the abuse he had received.” Her eyes watered, and she dabbed them with her napkin, doing her best to hold it together.
Then she scoffed. “It’s not like we can talk about the latest movie or where you want to go to college.
I just… feel like a failure as a mother. Like I should’ve known or…”
I wanted to tell her she had no way of knowing, or even if she did, there was little she could do, but I wasn’t the placating sort, except when it came to Luca.
He was all that mattered. I hated that I was so invested in him.
My life had been completely uprooted and turned inside out.
Regardless, I’d protect him with everything I had, whether or not he paid me.
“I don’t really remember you,” Luca finally said, picking at his club sandwich. “Did… did we go to church once?”
She gave a small smile, tucking blond hair behind her ears. “We did. Every Sunday. But… after everything, believing you were dead, I lost… my faith. My only child was gone and dead. But you weren’t, were you? We buried some poor boy who wasn’t you. Did they kill him for this?”
“This isn’t the place for this sort of conversation,” I said firmly, keeping my voice down.
She nodded, leaned in, and whispered. “Did you hurt them? The men that took my boy?”
“All the ones in the house. There are more.”
“Good. I want them all dead.”
“That’s the plan.”
Then she reached for Luca but thought better of it. “I could… set you up with therapy if…”
Luca pressed his body closer to me and shook his head. “I’m never talking about what happened to me to a complete stranger. I don’t trust doctors. Doctors did regular checkups on me, and they never helped me.”
“What do you want me to do, Luca? I… need to see you. To have you back. You’ve been gone for so long.”
I nudged him when he didn’t say anything. He sighed and nodded. “We can… do stuff once in a while.”
She sniffed and smiled. “I’d like that.”
That night, during dinner, Luca picked at his meal again as he did for breakfast and lunch. I worried about him not eating enough, especially since he’d been putting on much-needed weight.
Fuck it. Time to rip off the bandaid. It was for the best. So, why did it feel like I was kicking him while he was down?
“We need to talk.”
He glanced up from his dinner warily. “Okay.”
“Your mom… she seems like she misses you and loves you.”
“Yeah…”
“Now that you found her, perhaps you should move back with her.”
His bottom lip trembled, not meeting my eyes. “I knew it… Why? Did I do something wrong?”
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Luca. It’s just she can take care of you better than I can.”
His eyes turned red, and his lips trembled. Fuck me.
“Why do you want to get rid of me?
“I don’t—”
“So, you do want me around?”
“I didn’t say—”
“Then you want to get rid of me.”
“Enough! Stop twisting my words. Your mother hasn’t seen you in eleven years. She thought you were dead. Don’t you want to spend time with her? Get to know her again? You saw her at lunch. She’s trying her best.”
“No! I don’t even know her!”
This wasn’t going as well as expected. I knew he was attached to me, but I figured he would want to get to know his mother at least. “Luca, you’re going. I already talked to her on the phone while you were in the bath earlier.”
He stood from his stool with fisted hands, glaring daggers at me. “How could you? I don’t want to go!”
“Luca…”
He tried to control the tears, but instead of letting them spill in front of me, he turned on his heels and ran to his room, slamming the door behind him.
That fucking went well.
“Fuck!”