Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Pfeiffer
Ten nights to go.
I’m still glowing days later and my priorities are a little torn. I had the most amazing night—and morning—of my life, with a man I’d fully expected to despise until I was six feet under.
I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to continue to experience earth-shattering orgasms the rest of the day, into the night, and maybe forever.
My stomach lurches wistfully. I let my guard down for the first time, telling him why I couldn’t bear to feel his—or anyone’s—hands on me. He was persistent about finding out who it was, but I have no intention of letting another living soul know that.
But, while I wish I could have stayed in his warm, thick, protective arms, I also need to be here, with Dad, making most of the time we have left.
His forgetfulness is increasing day by day and I still haven’t gotten him a doctor’s appointment.
I don’t know how I’d pay for it. A quick rummage through his papers revealed that he does have some medical insurance with his job at the hardware store, but I don’t want to disclose his illness to his employers just yet.
They might let him go, and I’ve heard that when you take away someone’s purpose, they fade even faster. I couldn’t bear for that to happen.
I close the door behind me softly, but when I turn around, he’s standing in the hallway. I almost scream in surprise.
“Dad? You okay?”
“Where’ve you been, love?”
He knows I have a temporary job in a bar but I’ve never pulled an all-nighter before, and now I feel guilty as hell.
“It got late. I didn’t want to wake you, so I stayed at a friend’s place,” I lie.
I walk up to him noticing his face has gone all pale and gaunt.
“What’s wrong, Dad?”
“They’ve been in here again,” he says.
My stomach curls with dread. “Who has? Who’s been here?”
“The men.”
“What men?”
I keep my voice calm but my head is spinning. Some men were here in the night?
“The men who took your mother.”
I rest my hands on his shoulders. “Dad, no one took Mom. You told me yourself.”
“No…” he blinks up at me, a terrified glint in his eye. “They carried her out and they didn’t bring her back.”
“The paramedics?” I guess.
Tears fall down his cheeks and my throat tightens.
“I don’t know who they were.” He shakes his head. “But they were here last night, when you were gone.”
I glance around, worried he might be telling the truth, but there’s no sign of anyone having been here. No dirt marks on the carpet, no paperwork, nothing.
As I watch, his expression changes.
“Do you remember what they were wearing?” I ask.
“Who?” he says.
“The men who came in here last night,” I repeat slowly.
“There were no men here, Fi.” He wipes the back of his hand across his cheek, seeming surprised when it comes away wet.
My heart slams repeatedly against the wall of my chest. What just happened?
“Oh, okay,” I mutter. “That’s good. I’m going to run you a bath, okay?”
“That sounds wonderful, thanks love.”
I force a smile and go to the bathroom, closing the door behind me, then I back up against it and take some deep breaths.
My heart is slowly sinking. His memories and thought processes are declining faster than I can get a handle on his condition. As soon as this month’s up, I need to get a job, so I can support us both, and I can get Dad some care.
Once I’ve settled him in a nice warm bath, I head to the kitchen to make him a late lunch. Halfway through chopping vegetables, my phone pings. It makes me startle because no one ever texts me. Maybe Shane once or twice, but that’s all.
I don’t recognize the number but I swipe open the message and read.
Unknown: Is it wrong that I still haven’t showered?
I gasp and drop the phone on the counter. A splashing sound comes from the bathroom, so I push the kitchen door closed so I don’t disturb Dad with any more calamitous incidents.
Is this Fiero?
Me: I don’t know. It depends who you are…
Unknown: You know who I am, cucciola
My heart swells to twice its size. Fiero Bellucci is texting me?
My fingers tremble as I type out a reply.
Me: Why haven’t you showered?
Unknown: I like smelling of you
I collapse against the counter, my hand over my mouth. It’s been two days!
Me: Well, that’s grossed me out
Unknown: That was the exact opposite of my intention
Me: And your intention was…?
Unknown: To remind you why I smell of you
I swallow, steadying myself before typing a reply.
Me: I don’t think I’ll forget that in a hurry
There’s a long pause and I worry that might be the end of the conversation, but then dots appear again.
Unknown: Me neither
I sink onto a chair, my knees suddenly weak. It’s been years since I texted a man and I don’t know how to continue, so I wait. Sure enough, another text comes through.
Unknown: I have to work tomorrow night
I feel the sting of disappointment in my chest, but then again, tonight and tomorrow are supposed to be my nights off anyway.
Me: Must be exhausting being a hotshot club owner
Unknown: It’s a burden I carry with grace
Me: I’ve noticed
Unknown: Yeah. I know you like to stare
I blush like a heathen.
Unknown: I’ll feel better when I see you afterward
Me: You’re forgetting I’m not working tomorrow
Unknown: I’ll change the rota
Me: I’ll go to the unions…
Unknown: The unions work for me, baby
My uterus actually flutters. And what the hell happened to my feminist principles?
Me: What if I’ve made plans to go see a movie?
It’s the first excuse to enter my head.
Unknown: Unmake them
Me: Or?
Unknown: Or I’ll track you down, rip off your underwear and sink my dick into you right there in the theatre
I splutter into my hand. My face burns so hot I swear it could light the kitchen.
A splash sounds from the bathroom again and I lower my voice instinctively, even though I’m texting.
Me: My dad is literally ten feet away
Unknown: So don’t show him your phone
When I don’t respond to that, more dots appear.
Unknown: Fine. I’ll behave
Unknown: But only if you do as you’re told, cucciola
My heart thumps hard.
Unknown: Work for me tomorrow and I’ll make sure you are compensated VERY well
I shake my head and bite back a smile, already buzzing at the thought of seeing him again.
Me: And what exactly counts as “VERY well” in your world?
The typing dots appear instantly.
Unknown: You really want me answering that while your father’s in the next room?
I clamp my thighs together so hard it’s embarrassing.
Me: You just threatened to fuck me in a theatre
Unknown: That wasn’t a threat, Pfeiffer. It was a promise
Me: I didn’t think we were dating
Unknown: That can be rectified. You pick the movie, I’ll clear the place out
Me: I have no doubt you will
Unknown: You want to know what VERY well means in my world? Nel mio mondo, 'molto bene' significa che mi insinuerò così a fondo sotto la tua pelle che non solo mi apparterrai, ma dimenticherai perfino come si desidera qualcun altro.
I read the full message, though it’s pointless because I can’t speak a word of Italian. I press and hold the text, then copy it into Google Translate.
Then I hold my breath.
“In my world, 'very well' means I'll work my way even deeper beneath your skin, so not only will you belong to me, you won’t ever want anyone else.”