Chapter 14 #2
I roll my eyes and travel back down the stairs. Unfortunately, my father has trailed into the living room, sitting on the couch with Cecilia perched on his knee. He rights her as she sways, one hand on her waist. She’s half his age, clearly drugged up.
It’s disgusting and I don’t want any part of it.
“Goodbye, Cecilia,’ I say, patting the top of her head and she looks up at me with wet dark eyes.
“You’re not going to stay for breakfast? I’m sure Nina cooked something you’ll like. She knows all your favorites.”
I shake my head. “Not hungry.”
“Sit for a while, boy,” my father orders, and I freeze because it’s just muscle memory from when I was a kid.
“For a minute,” I relent, but I’m stiff as I sit on the recliner across from him and Cecilia.
“How did the fight go?” he asks curiously.
“Not sure. I wasn’t there long,” I admit. He will have already heard that I left early, with Deigo and a couple of my other men.
“You left early.”
It’s not a question, just a statement, and I’m not going to deny it or apologize for it. I’m a grown man, and it was Nico’s responsibility to keep the books on that fight. Not mine.
But lucky for my father, Oscar had his eye on the books that night. Father wouldn’t like that, wouldn’t want me working with the Cortados, but we’ve had an alliance since we were young.
Oscar is a good guy, as wiseguys go, and I see no problem with working with your competition toward a common goal.
“I did. Had some business to take care of.”
“What kind of business?’
“Something came up,” I say calmly, not revealing any more than I want to.
Father cannot know about Sophia. He’ll order me to kill her immediately, and I can’t. I don’t think I can do that.
“You said you would take over for Nico.”
I nod. “Yeah, but something came up. He’s grown. Didn’t he take care of it himself?”
Father sets his lips in a thin, hard line and doesn’t respond.
“Was there something wrong with the books? Something didn’t add up?” I ask, feigning curiosity. I’ve already gotten a report from Oscar that everything is on the up and up. Whoever has been skimming either wasn’t there or was too afraid to do it with me in the building.
“No,” he says flatly, and it’s like he’s almost mad he can’t lecture me about something.
“Let me get you a plate,” Cecilia says, making a move to get up and I grab her wrist, shaking my head.
“I’m fine, Cecilia. I’ve gotta go.”
“You and Nico never stay to visit anymore,” she says with a sniffle, and I groan inwardly. She’s at the maudlin part of wine drunk and it’s almost like she thinks she gave birth to us even though she’s only a couple of years older than Nico.
Nico comes down the stairs with a shit-eating grin on his face and I smirk, looking up at him.
“Nico and I will come to dinner on Sunday.”
“We’ll do what now?” He blanches but I continue, standing up.
“You can help Nina cook,” I suggest to Cecilia.
She titters. “I think I’d burn the place down, but I can decorate!”
She bounces into a standing position, only swaying slightly, and throws her arms around me. “See you two on Sunday! Eight sharp, okay?”
Nico glares at me while Cecilia heads over to hug him, letting her but not hugging her back.
Father grunts and stands up with effort. The cancer has spread to his bones now, and he has trouble even standing. Cecilia originally moved in to be his nurse, has her CNA license, but now she’s…whatever she is to him.
The doorbell rings, and I head to answer it. It’s Felicity, the hospice nurse who comes to visit twice a week. I can hear Father grumbling about her as I let her in, smiling at her in greeting.
I use the opportunity to slip out, and Nico is just a few steps behind me.
“I can’t believe you roped me into dinner,” he mutters.
“It won’t kill you to take a night off from your benders.”
Nico narrows his eyes at me, but he doesn’t argue. He knows I’ll beat him if we fight, I always do. And he doesn’t know it, but I’ve got eyes on him. If he blows that money on gambling or drugs or both, I’ll know.
And there will be consequences.
He gets into his car, impatiently waiting for me to back out since I’m blocking him. I take my time out of sheer spite but finally make my way out of the gate and back on the freeway.
I’m barely present as I drive back to the cottage. Exhaustion is threatening to take me under.
Diego still sits in the chair, reading his book, when I arrive.
“Shift’s over,” I tell him.
“It’s barely noon. You should go home and get some rest.”
“I’ll rest here,” I mumble. I can’t explain to him why I want to be here. Why I need to have her in my sights at all times. I can’t even explain that entirely to myself.
Because as much as I’d like to think it’s because she knows something, because I need to find out what, it’s more than that. So much more.
Diego shrugs and gets up, placing the worn paperback in his pocket. “Just call me if you need me.”
I nod sharply and he leaves the cottage without another word.
I stare at the locked bedroom door for a moment. I could crash on the couch. I don’t have to do it this way. But then I take in a deep breath and unbolt the door, walking inside and locking it behind me.
Sophia lays on the bed, staring at the door, and she scrambles up when I come in. The long line of her thigh makes my mouth start to water and I try not to look at her.
She’s so fucking beautiful. And deadly.
Like a rose with all its thorns.
“I’m tired,” I say bluntly.
“I’m tired too,” she responds quickly, frowning. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
“I’m taking a nap.” I start to unbutton my shirt, having to hide a smirk when I feel her eyes on me.
“Here?” She looks up at me incredulously, blue eyes wide.
“Where else? Someone needs to keep an eye on you.”
“I assume you have men who can do that.”
She assumes correctly. I have Diego. But that doesn’t matter.
“I don’t trust anyone else not to let you slip away,” I say, and it’s one of the most honest things I’ve ever said to her.
“Where am I supposed to sleep if you sleep here?”
I shrug. “Not my problem.”
I pull off my shirt and drape it over a nearby chair, crawling into bed and under the covers.
“You can’t keep me here forever,” she says, and I’m already starting to drift off.
“Watch me,” I mumble, then I drift off into a dreamless sleep.