Chapter 11 Megan
MEGAN
The following day, the day after Gio told me that he loves me, we visit a canine rescue center just outside the city. No warning. I have no idea where we are going until we arrive, and I follow him and Amber around in a fog of pinch-me-now-disbelief.
As a teenager, I would play the silly game of ‘He loves me, he loves not’ with my friends, picking petals from daisies and tossing them aside while thinking about Harry Styles or Peeta Mellark from The Hunger Games.
It was foolish, a bit of fun, and we never regarded the outcome as final.
We would simply pick another daisy and try again until we discovered that the boy really did love us.
But that’s how I feel now whenever I look at Gio.
Ti amo, Meggie.
A shiver runs down my spine every time I replay those words in my head in Gio’s sexy accent.
He said those three words. I heard them with my own ears. And yet this doesn’t feel real. Nothing about this situation feels real.
I’ve known him less than a week, I was only supposed to be in America on vacation, and here we are playing happy families while we look for a dog for Amber.
I know I’m probably self-sabotaging right now, but I can’t shake the feeling that one day, Gio will wake up, take one look at the mess inside his perfect pristine penthouse, and realize what a mistake he made.
And then what?
How can Amber and I ever go back to our old life now that we’re different people?
“I want this one.” Amber’s voice jolts me back to reality.
She is on her knees in front of a kennel. Gio is right beside her, and on the other side of the bars is a chocolate-brown dog with floppy ears and sad brown eyes. I move closer and the dog wags its tail frantically, pawing at the bars to be let out.
I can understand Amber’s absolute conviction that this is the dog she wants.
The puppy, aptly named Bella, chose my little sister, and now it’s impossible to imagine life without her.
Bella climbs all over us. She licks our faces and snuggles up to each of us in turn, and even if Gio suddenly changed his mind about allowing a dog into his life, I would have to get her anyway.
Amber plays with the puppy while Gio completes the paperwork. I feel a stab of anxiety that I can’t adopt the dog because I don’t legally live here, but the thought of applying for visas and going through the process of relocating to the States is too much for my brain to deal with right now.
I’m gradually adapting to having a security team around us, but I have a niggling feeling that Gio is keeping something from me.
He was trying to tell me something last night, I’m certain of it, but he changed his mind and went with ‘Ti amo,’ instead.
I mean, not that I’m complaining. Every time I repeat the words inside my head, I want to squeal out loud, but I’ve noticed him and Ric exchanging constant glances, glances that are then passed on like a domino effect to the rest of the team.
Does he know something about Amber’s father?
My pulse races just thinking about him being here in New York, but I keep reminding myself about what Gio said.
Millions of people live here in the city, and a penthouse apartment at the top of a luxury hotel resort is the last place he would look for us.
He killed our mom and left us with nothing, and nothing is precisely what he would expect us to have now.
We have to wait a few days for the adoption process to complete before we can bring Bella home, so in the meantime, we visit a pet store and buy everything that a dog could possibly need.
A cozy bed. Food and water bowls. A collar and leash.
Squeaky toys, kibble, a fluffy teddy for Bella to cuddle, a brush and treats and a shiny name tag.
So much paraphernalia, that we can barely fit it all into the walk-in closet in the guest room.
The next few days pass by in a blur of Amber’s relentless chatter about the puppy. I’ve never seen her so animated before, which would make it a million times harder for her if we ever had to leave.
At night, Gio and I still rarely sleep. Aside from the fact that we can’t keep our hands off each other, we spend hours talking, the time just slipping away from us until the sun peeps out from behind the horizon with a smile that reflects ours.
During the day, when Gio is working, Ric takes over.
I research homeschooling Amber, but I tell myself that it can wait until the end of summer and the start of the new semester. It’s another thing that I don’t have the bandwidth for while I’m still adapting to our new way of life.
Nikki texts me every day. She’s still filming in LA, and she is thinking of staying in California a little longer. A role in another movie being made by the same production company seems to have come her way. A small role, but the excitement oozing from her messages is unmistakable.
Does Arthur have anything to do with you staying? I text her.
She replies with three laughing face emojis. Nice try, Meg, but I’m still not telling you his name.
Amber is obsessed with the ferry, so every morning, Ric takes us down to the river, and we enjoy our own peculiar cruises, faces tilted towards the sky and eyes closed against the breeze. In the afternoons, we continue to explore the city.
Ric is a great tour guide, and he always knows how to avoid the traffic.
The bodyguards take turns keeping up with Amber’s boundless energy. So, when we visit the adventure playground at East 72nd Street in Central Park, two of Gio’s bodyguards follow her around, climbing the huge wooden castles with her, swinging from ropes, and running through sprinklers.
Ric and I watch them from the dappled shade of a strategically placed bench where we have an unobstructed view of the entire playground.
“The boss seems happier with you around.”
Ric’s eyes remain permanently fixed on Amber’s small frame. I don’t know what happened after the chihuahua incident, I haven’t asked Gio, but it’s obvious that Ric won’t make the same mistake again.
I study his profile. “Has he said anything to you … about me?”
“He doesn’t need to.”
I guess Ric is paid to be discreet as well, and I can’t forget that his loyalty is to Gio even if he is currently on tour-guide duty.
“I know about Amber’s father, if that’s what you mean.”
My gut twists as it always does. His existence is always going to haunt us, no matter how hard I try to forget about him.
I change the topic. “How did you become a bodyguard, Ric?”
His eyes flicker my way, and I wonder if he’s never been asked the question before. “Long story.”
“I’m not in any rush.”
His lips twitch into a smile. “I got in with a bad crowd when I was a lad. Leather jackets. Motorcycles. Chip on their shoulder. You get the picture.”
“Danny Zuko eat your heart out.”
He furrows his brow. Maybe he’s one of the few people in the world who have never watched Grease. I wait for him to continue.
“It was kids’ play to begin with. We’d gather some dry sticks and light a fire on the beach, drink a few beers, smoke a few joints.
Then, a couple of the older lads started getting into the harder stuff.
I had no interest in landing myself with a heroin addiction, so I made excuses not to hang around with them.
But I already knew too much. They couldn’t risk me squealing to their families or to the polizia, so they set me up one time.
They broke into the home of a prominent family, stole something sentimental, made it look like it was me. ”
“What happened?”
“The house belonged to the Sabatellis. They knew my parents. I couldn’t replace what had been stolen, but they took me in, gave me a job, and never said another word about it.
They were good people, Giovanni’s parents.
Honest and fair. If someone crossed them, they dealt with it in their own way, but they were good to the people they cared about. ”
“Like Gio,” I say.
He smiles.
A question has been eating away at me since the first time I saw the holster Ric wears. I don’t know if I should ask, but I do know that it will continue to play on my mind if I don’t, and there are already plenty of dark thoughts trying to keep me awake at night.
“Ric, have you ever killed anyone?”
His eyes meet mine, and I know I’ve caught him by surprise.
But before he can reply, a scream reaches us from the playground. I’m on my feet in a heartbeat, scanning the climbing area for a glimpse of Amber as I run. My heart thuds when I spot her swinging from some monkey bars, one of Gio’s men supporting her legs so that she doesn’t fall.
“She’s fine, Ric.” I’m nauseous from the adrenaline rush, and I can hardly speak as I stop and turn back to Ric.
He isn’t there.
“Ric?”
He isn’t on the bench. I can’t see him outside the playground perimeter, or in the park. I turn around, studying the faces of the adults in the playground with their kids, and my attention snags when I spot a tall man standing just outside the entrance to the climbing area where Amber is playing.
Broad shoulders. Graying hair with a tiny bald patch on the top of his skull. He has his back to me, so I can’t see his face, but it’s the way he’s standing there, staring not at his own kids, but at Amber, that scares me.
My pulse spikes, and I’m running again, yelling Amber’s name as I go.
Gio’s security team is instantly alert. The guy closest to Amber helps her down from the monkey bars, her brow furrowed as she watches me hurtling towards her like a maniac.
“Get her away from there!” I yell, waving my arms above my head.
I’m sprinting past moms who grab their little kids and pull them out of my path, when Ric appears from nowhere and spreads his arms wide.
“Hey, what’s going on?”
One of the bodyguards is running our way with Amber in his arms, while others converge on us like ants around a jelly sandwich. I collapse against Ric, pointing in the direction of the man I saw.
“He’s there. I saw him.”