Matteo
Elio: Mayor Beaumont was shot. Currently at the hospital. My sources tell me he’s out of surgery but I’m not sure how serious his condition is. No ID on the shooter just yet. But I’ll let you know as soon as I do.
I don’t bother thanking my brother for the information. As soon as I get the text, I’m heading toward my car and to the hospital. Lindsay’s at the forefront of my mind. These days, she usually is.
After succeeding in getting the mayor’s room number, I head upstairs. I find her in the corridor outside his room, standing with her back against the wall and her arms folded across her chest. Her eyes are dry. Her posture is straight.
Lindsay Beaumont does not crumble in public.
But I can see what it costs her to hold herself together. She’s somewhere else entirely, jaw set, staring at nothing. She hasn’t noticed me yet.
I want to find every single thing that causes her pain and destroy it.
I have never been great at comfort. Warm words and providing a shoulder to cry on aren’t my particular skill set. But I’m here. I moved fast to get here without stopping to ask myself why and I still don’t have a satisfactory answer.
What the hell is wrong with you, Matteo?
I spot her and move toward her without thinking.
She must sense me coming because she spins around too fast, colliding with my chest hard enough that she nearly stumbles backward.
My hands catch her waist instantly, holding her steady against me.
Relief flashes across her face for the briefest second before she buries it beneath that guarded expression she’s so damn good at wearing.
Of course, she looks even more beautiful when she’s holding herself together by sheer will.
I decide to speak first.
“Hey, Kitten,” I say softly. “You should have called me.”
“I didn’t think you’d come,” she states, still keeping her tears at bay.
My eyes narrow slightly. “I would have come.”
She exhales softly in reply.
“How is he?”
“He’s stable. He should wake up any time now. The doctor said he was lucky. The bullet didn’t hit any major arteries.”
“That’s good,” I murmur.
“Yeah.” She shrugs. “He’ll live. And I’m an awful daughter that kicked him out of her life. What if he had died, Matteo?”
“He didn’t. And it’s stupid to ask what-if questions when everything is fine.”
She rolls her eyes. “You’re so annoying.”
“Come here, princess,” I state, opening my arms for a hug.
She immediately steps into my arms and I don’t miss the tremble that passes across her chest as she does. She grips the back of my shirt and buries her face in my neck. Another tremble passes through her and then something tiny and wet lands right above the collar of my shirt.
Those are the only indications that she’s crying. She’s silent and still, and I stay still as well as tears fall more frequently against my skin. I rub her arms, squeezing her waist to offer some semblance of comfort.
I hold on till the embers burn out. Until she draws a full breath. Eventually she loosens her hold. She pulls back and I see the puffiness of her eyes. They’re still magnetically blue and beautiful. She wipes her face and her cheeks, trying to find some semblance of composure.
I push back her hair and place a small kiss on her forehead. Mostly because I can’t help myself. The need to touch her overwhelms me. I know without a doubt this is where I’m meant to be. Despite how crazy that it seems.
“Thank you,” she whispers softly. “Thanks for being here, Matteo.”
“Of course, princess.”
She opens her mouth to say something else, but then there’s the sound of a door sliding open.
A woman with brown hair pokes her head out and looks around for a second before her eyes land on Lindsay.
She’s still in my arms and I notice her brief taken aback expression, which clears in the next breath.
“Ms. Beaumont,” she calls. “The mayor’s awake.”
Lindsay nods and exhales deeply. “I’ll be right in.”
The woman pokes her head back in while Lindsay looks up at me again.
“Do you want me to come in with you?” I ask.
“Yeah, sure. If you want to.”
“Your dad knows me. Are you sure he’ll be okay with me showing up beside you?”
She shrugs. “I’m sure he’ll be fine.”
“Alright. But if we send him into a coma, remember those words, princess.”
She slaps my arm at that, cracking a slight smile. Relief rushes through me at the sight. I reach toward her face to wipe a tear underneath her eyes.
“It’ll be alright, beautiful. I’ll make sure it’s alright.”
“Okay. Let’s go.”
The light in the hospital room is dim and there’s a slight chill in the air. I’ve always disliked the smell of hospitals. It’s the smell of antiseptic and death. Lindsay walks in front of me, taking small steps toward her father’s bed.
The man himself lies in it, head turned to watch our approach. His skin is sallow and pale and he’s hooked to a machine that reads his vitals. I’m glad to note that his heart rate doesn’t increase exponentially at the sight of me.
Mayor Beaumont and I have always had a civilized relationship. Over the years I may have had to resort to threats a couple of times, but our business talks have never escalated into violence.
While I do catch some surprise in his dull blue eyes at the sight of me, his gaze is mostly fixed on his daughter.
“Hi, Daddy,” Lindsay says, taking his hand in hers and rubbing it softly.
“Linny,” the mayor replies weakly. “Sorry I scared you, honey.”
“It’s okay. Thank you for surviving. I just need you to focus on getting better.”
“I will. And I need you to do something for me,” he tells her. “I need you to find a safe place. Lay low for a while. W-we don’t know who did this to me. He could be after you next. You can’t stay at the hotel anymore.”
It’s pretty clear it takes a great deal of energy to say those words. By the time he’s done, he’s even paler than he was earlier.
“I know, Dad. I wasn’t planning on staying at the hotel either. I’ll move back home. I’ll stay with you, help you get better,” Lindsay tells him.
He shakes his head, exhaling gently, “No. You can’t come home. Kimberly will take care of me. You need to leave. I’ll be okay.”
Tension visibly racks through his daughter’s body at those words. “I’m not leaving you alone like this.”
“Lindsay,” her father says tiredly, “I’ll be safe and protected. I need you to be safe as well.”
“But—”
“I’ll take care of her,” I interrupt, stepping forward. “She can stay with me. I’ll keep her safe.”
The room grows quieter for a couple of seconds, during which time Mayor Beaumont seems to acknowledge my presence. He stares at me, gaze assessing, and must come to some conclusion because he lets out a sigh.
“Yes. I don’t know what you’re doing with him, Lin, but I do have faith in his ability to protect you. Please, at least until the shooter is caught.”
Lindsay doesn’t say anything. She looks at her father with surprise and an expression of disbelief. The brunette, who has been quietly sitting on a chair in the corner of the room all this while, slowly rises to her feet.
“I think he’s spoken enough for today. We should probably let him rest,” she states, her voice clear-cut. “I promise he’ll be safe and guarded. I’ll call you immediately if anything happens.”
Lindsay looks like she’s about to argue, because of course she won’t take this lying down. So I place a steadying hand on her shoulder.
“Come on, princess. He’ll be okay.”
She huffs out a disgruntled breath before placing a kiss on her father’s cheek and whispering something into his ear. Then she lets me lead her out of the hospital and down to the parking lot.
Once we’re in the car, she turns to me with a glare.
“What was that?”
My lips twitch. “What?”
“You know what!” she spits, crossing her arms. “I felt like I was being sold off on auction. Why would my father put me in your care? I’m not a child. I can take care of myself.”
“All recent evidence to the contrary,” I feel the need to point out. “Relax, Lindsay. Your father’s right and he’s a smart man. He knows you’ll be safest by my side. I would never let anybody harm you. Just think of it as witness protection.”
She scoffs. “You’re usually the one people need witness protection from.”
I don’t bother responding to that. I simply turn on the ignition and drive. It only takes a minute or two before she speaks again.
“Where are we going?”
“To the hotel. You need to pack your stuff and check out. I would have someone do it for you, but something tells me you’d object to that.”
“I’m objecting to all of this,” she states.
“Yeah, I heard you.”
We arrive at the Aurora Towers soon enough.
I gesture toward her bodyguards, who have been following her all this while.
I’m starting to think they’re awful at their jobs.
They should have let me know as soon as she left the hotel and went to the hospital.
At least they’re a step behind her right now, but considering what happened today, she needs even more protection.
They assist in carrying the luggage the Lindsay packs downstairs. I stay beside her, observing. And ignoring my phone, which keeps buzzing with texts and calls from my brothers. I owe them an explanation, and I’ll provide it.
Just not today.
The books on the table in the corner of Lindsay’s bedroom don’t escape my notice. There are several of them. Shakespeare, Bronte, Dickens. I watch as she cradles a copy of Great Expectations in her hands for a second, staring at it like it has all the answers.
“My mother told me to watch over my dad,” she says, letting out a harsh laugh. “It was pretty much her last words, actually.”
I pause for a beat, wondering at the pain in her voice and expression. I’m aware that her mother is dead but I don’t know how she passed.
“Are those hers?” I question gently.
Lindsay looks up sharply like she’s just remembered I’m in the room with her.
“Yes,” she murmurs before looking away from me, getting to her feet to finish packing.
She doesn’t say another word as we leave the hotel. It’s worrisome.