Chapter Eleven #2
“Can I get cleaned up first? I feel gross.”
“Depends. Can you do it without stepping on that foot?”
“It’s a small room. I can hop. Can you get me a change of clothes, though?”
“Yep. Give me a few.”
With that, I made my way back out of the bathroom, closing the door for her. But also because I didn’t want her hearing me on the phone as I went into her room.
Her room was made, though mussed at the bottom like Tuna had slept there at some point.
“Hey, bud. I think you’re coming with us too,” I told him as I went to her closet.
And there it was.
Her stalker board.
I thought she was exaggerating.
She wasn’t.
There we all were. Organized by family, sure, and with silly little notes about how we took our coffee or things we hated.
Apparently, Leo hated sauerkraut. I had known him basically my whole life and didn’t know that about him.
But anything else she had written or color-coded was done so in some code that only she knew.
There wasn’t even a key to be found. The kids were only noted by the initials of their first names.
She was careful.
The Family would appreciate that.
“Hello?” Brio’s voice met my ear.
“I’m calling you before Lorenzo because it’s more personal to you,” I started. “Alara was attacked. She’s alright. Busted up. Fucked up her foot or ankle, so I’m taking her to Salvatore. But I wanted to tell you.”
There was a pause.
“Tell me we know who it is?”
“Honestly, I didn’t get a lot out of her yet. She was really out of it when I got here.”
“I’ll call Salvatore and meet you there.”
I grabbed some loose black pajama pants, in case she needed a cast, a tee, and a zip-up hoodie before going into the dresser at the back of the closet.
“What’s up, Chris?” Lorenzo greeted me as I tried not to notice more about the underwear other than I grabbed a pair and some socks.
“Alara was attacked.”
“What?”
“Yeah, I don’t have a lot of details yet. I will get them, though. But she’s pretty worked over. I need to get her foot checked out by Salvatore.”
“Fuck. At home?”
“In her shop. Yesterday.”
“Christ. Okay. I’m gonna send Leo and Nero over there. I want a presence around so everyone knows who they fucked with.”
“Yeah. I don’t think I even locked the shop when I saw the mess and the blood. So that’s good.”
“She okay?” he asked.
“She’s a little in shock. But… it’s Alara.”
“Yeah. But sometimes this shit is worse for the hard asses.”
“I’ll be with her. And Brio is meeting us there. I will let you know when I find out anything else.”
“Okay. Thanks, Chris.”
I took the clothes with me back to the bathroom, knocking gently.
“Come in,” she said.
I wasn’t prepared to walk in to find her leaning against the wall in nothing but a towel.
The desire was a sucker punch through my system, every nerve ending firing off, my cock twitching at the swell of her breasts above the towel, at how high the edge of the towel hung on her thigh.
“You called them, didn’t you?” she asked as I set the clothes on the counter.
Her skin was glistening from whatever quick wash-up she’d done. I absolutely did not think about tracing the bead of water as it slid down from her clavicle to disappear between her breasts.
“You’re family. The call had to go out.”
There was no reason I needed to help her get dressed. Tell me why, then, I reached for the t-shirt and bunched it up in my hands before pushing it down over her head.
Her gaze cut to mine, watching me with something I was choosing not to analyze as she slid one arm through the hole, then the other.
I pulled down the hem over the towel, then reached for the panties next.
There was no mistaking the heat in her eyes as I lowered myself down onto my knees in front of her.
It would have been so easy to angle my head up slightly, to slip the slit of the towel and move in, to run my tongue up her cleft and circle her clit until she was writhing and shaking and crying out in release. My cock thickened at just the thought.
But just because it would be easy, just because I wanted to, didn’t make it right.
I slid the material over her bad ankle, and she braced an arm on the counter to hold herself aloft for a second so I could get her good foot in as well.
Did I need to take my time like I did then, to graze my fingertips up her thighs, to enjoy the way her thighs trembled slightly? No. But I did that. Before I caught myself and got back to my feet before pulling the panties up under her towel and settling them into place.
I pulled off the towel, tossing it into the hamper before shifting her onto the counter again, so I could slip her pants up her legs.
“Arms around my neck so I can pull these into place,” I demanded when I reached her knees.
She laced her arms around my neck, tightening, then sliding off the counter, her weight dangling from me as I pulled the waistband into place.
She went down on her good foot, but her arms stayed in place, her body crushed to mine.
Alara was not the kind of woman to ask for comfort, to admit she needed a hug. But this was as close as I could possibly get from her.
I slid my arms around her, careful of her bruises, but holding her as she clung to me.
“It’s gonna be okay,” I assured her, my hand drifting up her spine to gently rub the back of her neck. She nodded against me as her face turned into my neck. There was a small catch in her breath, then a sniffle.
My hand drifted up into her hair, lightly massaging her scalp as I felt a hot tear on my skin.
“You’re alright,” I murmured, turning my face toward her. “I’ve got you,” I said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
Her arms tightened, like maybe if she held on tightly enough, she wouldn’t feel like she was breaking apart.
“It’s okay,” I told her, pulling her against me more tightly. “We’ve got this now.” Then, because I knew she was more likely to respond to some levity, I added, “We’ll take care of him. Strung up by the testicles, at least.”
That got the snort out of her I was looking for.
“They’d rip right off,” she told me, pulling back.
“That’s probably right,” I agreed, reaching out with both hands to wipe the tears from her cheeks. “What’s better then? From the ankles?”
“A classic,” she said, sniffling.
“Then that’s what we’ll do,” I said, reaching around her for the hoodie and helping her put it on. “Ready to take a ride?” I asked, turning my back toward her.
“I haven’t had a piggyback ride… ever.”
Yeah, I was pretty sure her old man was a dick, if I was remembering the history right.
“I’m an old pro at it. Charlotte was insistent on it growing up. Arms around my neck, legs tight around my stomach. Even just the one leg should be good enough.”
With that, I lowered down.
Her movements were tentative, but a half-surprised, half-delighted squeal escaped her as I jumped to my feet the way I always did with my niece, making her cling more tightly and let out a laugh.
I was just disappointed that I couldn’t see her smile.
I paused in the living room to awkwardly leash the dog before we moved out onto the steps as a unit.
And I tried to ignore the way her arms and legs tightened around me, how her face turned into my neck.
And how right it felt.