Chapter 21
POPE
Ilet myself into Storm and Landon’s house and beeline straight for the bar in the living room, where I pour myself a bourbon—a double.
After what just happened, I need it.
My hand trembles, bringing the cut crystal to my lips, but the warm burn of the alcohol going down my throat helps, at least temporarily, calm some of my frayed nerves.
A mob doctor.
I run my hand over the stubble on my cheek, brace the other against the marble countertop, and squeeze my eyes closed, letting my head hang. Stretching the tense muscles. Trying to help the fog of anger clear from my brain before I see Allie.
The entire drive over here from Stone’s office, I wanted nothing more than to get to Allie, to see her and Benjamin, but the closer I got to this house, the worse my body tensed, the more anxious I became. And by the time I walked in that door, I knew I was a fucking mess.
Not in any shape to see her and offer her support.
Not the man she needs me to be right now.
“Fuck!”
“Pour me one?”
I whirl toward Jack’s voice and find her leaning against the fireplace to my left, watching me carefully, with much too observant amber eyes. “What are you doing here?”
She motions upstairs. “I came to help Allie set up all Benjamin’s stuff from our place in one of the guest rooms upstairs.”
“Ah…” I nod and take another sip before I set my drink down to pour one for Jack. “Is she okay?”
Pouring with my back to her, I can’t see her, but I sense her movement as she comes closer.
Her hand slips past me to grab the tumbler, and her gaze meets mine. “She’s okay. What about you? You want to tell me what’s wrong?”
I raise a brow, moving away from the bar and her to pace the living room. “What makes you think anything’s wrong?”
She snorts and rests her hip against the bar top, watching me carefully. “I may not have been around this family as long as everyone else, but one thing I’ve always been very good at is reading people. I read Isaac from the moment I saw him at that bar in Chicago. I knew who and what he was, that I could trust him, and I was right.”
Sipping my drink, I wander to the couch and slowly lower myself down onto the leather. “And what is it you think you’re reading with me?”
“That you’re pretty fucking pissed off about something, and I’m assuming it has to do with the meeting with Satriano.”
Hell.
Giacomina wasn’t even there, and she can already sense how fucked up I am over what went down. If she can read me so easily, so will Alessandra. And the last thing I want to do right now is stress her out more about something that’s beyond her control but that can be very dangerous for me—and for her and Benjamin because of their connection to me.
She pushes off the bar and settles in the armchair to my right, tucking her legs up under her, like she’s getting settled in for what is going to be a painful talk.
Groaning, I drop my head back to stare at the ceiling. “Yep.”
“You’re upset about what Satriano is asking you to do for him…”
I lift my head and peek at her. “How the hell did you know about that?”
She smirks. “Isaac called as soon as everyone started leaving the office. He and I don’t keep secrets from each other.”
“That’s good.”
Their relationship seems very healthy, which is a miracle considering their history.
A two-night stand as strangers.
A daughter Isaac didn’t know about.
Five years of time.
And a mob boss obsessed with Jack enough to actually take her and force her into marriage.
Those are the types of things that create immense trauma and PTSD.
But they’re thriving and seemingly enjoying their lives.
Moving on.
How can Allie and I ever do that when I am at Satriano’s beck and call?
Jack leans forward until she catches my gaze. “I suggest you don’t keep any from her, either.”
“What do you mean?”
She sighs. “You know how I grew up. Locked away. My parents were always so worried I was going to have another seizure that they didn’t let me really live any life, have any friends. So, I spent my time watching and listening to my mom’s business, to my dad’s.”
I snort and take another drink. “I bet that was interesting for a kid.”
“You have no idea.” She grins. “I learned a lot and grew up very fast. And one of the key things that I caught onto when it comes to their relationship and why it works is that they don’t keep secrets from each other. Even if it might hurt, they tell each other everything. When they’re pissed off, they tell each other why. When they’re happy, they tell each other why. When they’re ready to kill somebody, and I don’t mean that metaphorically, they tell each other why.”
“I get your point.”
“This…” She waves her hand around aimlessly. “All of this, what’s been happening since I arrived in New Orleans? It isn’t your world. It’s mine.”
“You were trying to get away from it.”
She nods. “I was. And believe me, if I hadn’t found Isaac, if I hadn’t come here, I’d probably be in Paris right now at art school. But I did and could never leave him. And she feels the same way about you.”
Jack smiles.
“Which is why I don’t want to see anything come between you, like keeping this from her. She needs to know what Satriano asked you to do. She needs to know why you’re so upset so you two can talk it out.”
Releasing a long sigh, I down the rest of my drink and twirl the empty glass in my hands. “Do you really think this will ever end?”
Jack takes far too long to respond.
Giving me exactly the answer I didn’t want.
Finally, she takes a sip of her drink and shrugs. “Maybe. But if my mom and dad found a great doctor who could do what you do for their men, I can’t see them ever letting him go.”
Fucking fuck.
“Yeah…that’s kind of what I thought.”
And why my chest feels like it’s been ripped open.
But there’s only one cure when I’m feeling like this—that little dark-haired woman I came here to see in the first place.
I push to my feet. “Is Allie upstairs?”
Jack nods. “Yeah. I was just on my way out. Storm and Landon took Benjamin to Stone and Nora’s house for some playtime with Giovanni. I think they could see Allie needed a little break.”
“I’m surprised she let them take him.”
She grins. “Me, too. But I can be very persuasive.” She climbs from the chair. “I thought you two might need a little time to talk when you got here.”
“Thanks, Jack.”
Tilting her now-empty glass, she winks. “Anytime.”
Who would have thought Jack would turn into the psychologist in the family?
She may not have the degree, but her insights were spot-on.
What I’m going to have to do is eating me alive.
And it will only continue to if I don’t come clean with Allie and give her the opportunity to make an informed decision about whether she wants to stay tangled up with me—when I’m potentially going to be working for Satriano forever to keep this truce between him and the Hawkes.
Jack grabs her purse from beside the door and gives me a little wave goodbye as I set our empty glasses on the bar and look up to the ceiling.
Allie is up there somewhere.
Waiting for me.
Preparing a place for Benjamin to sleep and feel safe when everywhere he’s been since his birth has been temporary and not really his. But I don’t want her staying here with Storm and Landon.
I want her and Benjamin with me.
But it has to be her choice.
And she has to know what she’s risking to do it.
I climb the stairs and wander down the hallway toward the open door of one of the guestrooms. Allie stands inside, holding up picture frames with different jungle animals in them up to various places around the walls, her bottom lip pulled under her teeth in concentration.
“The lion should go above the crib.”
Allie jerks and whirls toward me, clutching the two frames in her hands to her chest. “Oh, Jesus Christ, you scared the crap out of me.”
Way to go, asshole.
I rub the back of my neck and step in, scanning the work they already completed—the bassinet he’s slept in since birth in one corner, a brand new white crib centered on the wall, a gray plush rocking chair, a dresser likely filled with his clothes brought over from the condo, and a stack of artwork for the walls.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
She releases a shaky breath. “I didn’t even know you were here.”
I nod, moving toward her slowly. “Just got here. Talked to Jack for a minute, but she left.”
“Ah…” Allie nods, watching me carefully. “Is everything okay? What happened at the meeting?”
So fucking much.
I’d love to pretend none of it happened and tug Allie against me, crush my lips to hers, and make love to her on this damn blue rug, but Jack’s words won’t stop repeating in my head.
She needs to know why you’re so upset.
Her brow furrows, almost as if she’s reading my mind. “What is it? Why do you look so…”
“Lost? Pissed? Confused?”
Allie nods. “Yeah, all of that.”
I shrug. “Because I am all of that at the moment.”
Worry clouds her blue gaze. “Pope, what’s going on? You’re scaring me.”
Shit.
I step forward, pull the frames from her hands, set them on the floor, and scoop her up into my arms. She releases a little yelp, looping hers around my neck as I carry her over to the rocking chair and sit with her draped across my lap.
There’s no simple way to tell her this.
No way to ease into the discussion of me working for the man who threatened all of us only a handful of months ago and was responsible for the shooting at The Grind that not only destroyed her sister’s business but injured Stone, Isaac, and Kennedy.
I brush her dark hair back from her face, dragging my fingertips over her cheek. “I love you, Al. You know that, right?”
Her brow furrows. “Of course I do. I love you, too.”
“Good, because you may not like me very much after I tell you what Satriano said.”
Allie’s entire body goes rigid in my arms, and her eyes narrow. “What did he say?”
I press my forehead to hers, inhaling her scent, hoping it’s not the last time I get to hold her like this. “He demanded his first favor for his assistance with Roselli.”
She swallows slowly. “Which was?”
Pulling my head back, I meet her gaze. “That I act as an on-call doctor for his crew if they need any sort of medical treatment. Nora, too.”
Her mouth falls open. “What? No…he can’t ask you to do that.”
“He wasn’t asking, Teeny.” I cup her cheek. “He made it very clear that if I didn’t cooperate, it could put you and Benjamin in danger.”
And this is where I lose the only woman I’ve ever loved in my entire life.
* * *
ALESSANDRA
It could put you and Benjamin in danger.
His warning should rattle me.
It should make me sob and completely lose my shit like I have so many times over the last few months.
It should make me rage and cry and want to throw something against the wall because we just managed to survive being saved from Roselli and now Satriano is laying down more threats.
It should make me hate Pope for putting me in this position again—having to choose between the man I love or protecting my son.
It should do all those things.
And Pope is clearly expecting it to, given how anxious he is and the fear in his gaze.
But with his gentle hand against my cheek, staring into his smoky-bourbon eyes, I don’t do any of those things because the reality is so crystal clear to me.
So fucking clear that I’m not sure why I couldn’t see it before this very moment.
“Pope, we’re always going to be in danger.”
His brows rise slowly as he processes my words. “What do you mean?”
My eyes start to mist, and I blink away the tears, needing to see him while I offer this explanation of the realization I feel like I should have had a long time ago that might have saved everyone some pain. “This whole course of events, everything that’s happened, none of it could have been stopped, not completely. It was unknowingly set in motion, and the path of destruction was aimed squarely at the Hawkes.
“It was the same way over thirty years ago when Luca’s father ran New Orleans. It’s what brought all the people we love together. It’s what created this family and helped us build Hawke Enterprises into the empire that it is. Because we were fighting against a common enemy then, one who pretended to be a friend, which is exactly what Satriano is doing now, and it means none of us are ever going to be truly safe.” I suck in a sharp breath so I can get out the final two words. “Not ever.”
It feels like a giant boulder has been lifted from my shoulders, the weight of carrying that guilt around with me removed by the truth I couldn’t see until this very moment.
I close my eyes, leaning into his touch and the comfort he always brings me, wondering if my long rant just scared him off. But he caresses my cheek—his fingers brushing across my skin and over my lips.
Reverently.
Like a man wanting to memorize every piece of something he loves so he can close his eyes and still see it.
Maybe he wants to in case his warning ends things between us, but he needs to understand the truth I’ve laid out for him, the one we all need to accept.
Earlier today at the hospital, I didn’t know why I couldn’t shake that feeling, why I couldn’t relax and stop worrying, stop feeling like there was a target on my back.
I thought it was merely the lingering effects of everything we just went through, not really processing that Dan was gone yet. But the truth is, I knew, deep down, that nothing was ever really ever going to be over.
It can’t be.
Not with the people we are.
“We will always be in danger, Pope. You working for Satriano isn’t going to change that.” I finally let my eyes open to meet his, laying down the final painful truth. “I’m in danger just by being a Hawke.”
A moment of silence lingers between us, filling that space between our breaths, and he contemplates my words, my warning, and my assurance that nothing he does will change anything.
“Shit…” He releases a heavy breath and lowers his forehead against mine. “You’re right. About everything. We never will be safe. No matter how hard everyone tries to protect each member of this Hawke family, each of us will always be a target. I’m so sorry that all this is happening, that you and Benjamin can’t just—”
I press my lips to his to silence him, to stop him from apologizing for something that isn’t his fault.
Pope has been there for me more in the last two months than any other person has ever been there for me in my entire life, which is saying a lot, considering the closeness of this family and the connection I share with Jude.
Through all the panic and the pain.
The crying and the hysteria.
The dirty diapers and sleepless nights…
Pope has been there. Holding me. Cradling Benjamin. Taking care of any and every thing we could ever need.
He’s what kept me from spiraling into a black abyss of despair I never would have found my way out of.
He is my rock.
And I can’t bear to see it cracking.
I can’t let him blame himself, like he wouldn’t let me blame myself for the Daniele situation.
Maybe kissing him is playing dirty, trying to take his mind off where it was going to make it concentrate on something else. But he returns my kiss, his lips gliding over mine smoothly, the warm, spicy taste of bourbon he must have drunk before he came up here coating his tongue and mine.
He groans into my mouth, tugging me even tighter against him and sinking into the kiss. The push and the pull. The sweet ecstasy of loving Pope.
When he finally pulls away, his eyes roam over the room we’ve only just begun putting together for Benjamin. “I don’t want you to waste your time in here.”
I jerk back slightly. “What? What do you mean?”
“Shit”—he winces—“that came out wrong again. I have to stop doing that. I mean, this is beautiful, and you should leave it up for times when you might want to leave Benjamin here to spend time with your parents, but this isn’t going to be his room permanently.”
“It’s not?”
He shakes his head and brings my lips to his again. “I meant everything I’ve said to you over the last two months about regretting what happened ten years ago, regretting losing you. But at the same time, if none of that had happened, we wouldn’t have Benjamin, right?”
As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right about that.
All the mistakes I’ve made since our breakup, all the stupid choices, all the reckless behavior, all of it led me to Daniele, and Daniele gave me Benjamin. So even though I hate that man, and I’m glad he’s gone and hope he rots in Hell, I don’t know that I could ever regret being with him.
Not when it brought me my precious angel.
A tear trickles down my cheek, and Pope swipes it away with his thumb. “Are those happy tears or sad tears?”
My lip quivers, and I bite it to try to stop it and shake my head. “I’m not sure. Confused tears, I guess.”
Pope tugs me down against him, and I rest my head on his shoulder. He tucks me under his chin and rubs my arm, slowly rocking the chair intended for the baby. “What are you confused about?”
I shrug slightly. “Everything. What we’re supposed to do now.”
He presses a kiss to my hair. “We’re supposed to find our own place, and we’re supposed to go on living our lives the best we can, protecting Benjamin the best we can, while also navigating these things that are beyond our control, I guess.”
It sounds so simple when he says it.
But we both know that’s far from the truth.
Nothing will ever be easy when you’re a Hawke.
We have too much power, too many things. We’ve created too many enemies over the years through our actions to ever be safe from looking over our shoulders.
Every day, I’ll feel that hair rise on the back of my neck, always wondering if it’s some old foe or new one watching and lying in wait.
It’s something all our parents dealt with and lived through, and the Hawkes suffered the consequences then. The loss of Ben, of Angelina’s father, shattered their lives. And the thought that something like that could happen to us feels all too real after almost losing Stone, Isaac and Kennedy, and now Atlas and Astrid.
Nothing can be taken for granted.
And I will never do it again—with any of the people I love.
Especially not Pope.
The man who owns my heart, who I want to build my future with, the one who will always protect me and defend me, no matter the cost.
“You’re going to have to work for Satriano…”
I hate saying the words, but I know they’re true and so does he.
He isn’t the kind of man you say no to if you want to keep breathing, and Pope is far too intelligent to pick a fight with him about this and potentially endanger the rest of us even more than we already are.
“I know.”
The sad resignation in his voice splits my chest open. “Do you think you’re going to be able to do it?”
These aren’t patients being brought into his ER.
These are deadly men, and if they’re calling Pope, it means they’ve probably done stupid and illegal things to get them in that condition.
Working on them is dangerous in that regard alone, but it could also mean risking his career at the hospital, which is likely why he’s struggling so much with it at the moment.
He doesn’t know what to do with the conflicting feelings, with the guilt he already feels before he’s even acted at Satriano’s command.
Skimming my fingers across his arm, I watch the skin pebble. “I know a thing or two about guilt, Pope. I let it eat me alive from the inside out for my entire pregnancy. I blamed myself for being so stupid as to get involved with Dan without really knowing who he was and to get pregnant on top of that. I blamed myself for everything that happened after that. Even this morning, I was sitting in Atlas and Astrid’s room, seeing how broken he is, feeling guilt for him being in that position because of me.” Another tear falls from my eye, splashing against his dark skin. “It’s okay, Pope, to do it. But don’t let your guilt over it destroy you the way I almost did.”
God, I hope that made sense.
It felt like one big, long, incoherent ramble that likely only confused the man when I was really trying to help him.
He tilts my face up and kisses me softly. “I’ll do anything to keep you and Benjamin safe, Al, even if it costs me my soul.”
I search his eyes, looking for the truth in his declaration. “Is that what you think this is going to do?”
Pope shakes his head. “I don’t know. It feels like it, but then I’ll get to come home to you and Benjamin, and”—his shoulders rise and fall—“I feel like that’s going to make everything okay, make it better. In a way only the two of you can.”
Well, damn.
I grin at him. “You really do have a way with words, Dr. Clarke.”
He feathers his lips over mine. “I hope I never say anything as stupid as ‘it was a mistake’ again.”
“Me, either.”
His lips twitch playfully. “Nothing with you could ever be a mistake.”