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Hearing the thunderous approach of an eager five-year-old, I dart into the closet and quietly pull the door behind me. I watch through the small crack in the open door as he cackles, moving about the room, looking behind and under the bed as well as the easy chair in the corner.
All of a sudden, the door flies open, and Myla covers her mouth as Caleb yells, “Gotchu!”
“You were good, Tarzan. But we’re going to have to settle down if we want to make sure we don’t wake your brother. Why don’t we go pick out a book to read for a few minutes before bed?”
After finally getting the wild man under the covers, I promised to check on him after saying goodnight to his sister. As expected, by the time I returned to his room, he was out for the count. I have to admit, I’m not far behind him.
I go down to the first floor for a glass of water. My days start early and it’s catching up with me. I contemplate lying down here to wait for Jill to come home, but it’ll be easier to hear if the kids get up from the guest room.
Heading back the way I came, I take the stairs two at a time and quickly ensure they’re asleep before continuing up the nextflight. I lie down on the bed and start to call Luigi to check on Antonia and Mimmo, but decide to take this wet shirt off first. I apparently got as wet as Truitt and Caleb tonight, and it’s starting to get uncomfortable.
I unfasten my white button up and lay it over the chair, hoping it will dry quickly. At least my undershirt isn’t too damp. I only put that thing on to look good for Jillian.
I’m barely able to keep my eyes open to dial Luigi’s number. Hell. How does Jillian do this night after night? I’m exhausted.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Jillian
As I pullinto the driveway, I notice Luca’s car isn’t here. I’d worry, thinking he’d taken my kids somewhere, but Luca never parks in my driveway. I climb out of my SUV, lock it, and walk down to the mailbox to see if I recognize a vehicle on the street that seems out of place.
It’s late, well after midnight, and a few of the street lamps are lit, but nothing obvious jumps out at me. Starting to turn back to the front door, I catch something shiny out of my periphery. Looking closer, I find there’s a black vehicle parked on the street two doors down. I take a few steps closer, hoping I can see it a bit better. It looks like a Lincoln Town Car.
As I turn back to the house, I can’t help but contemplate all of the peculiar things connected to him. He never drives the same car twice. He never parks in the driveway. He uses an alias. He’s shared an outlandish tale regarding his dangerous connections in Italy, but that’s a world away. Am I being completely taken in by this guy? I mean, I used to watch things like this onDateline,where the guy swooped in and fed her a tall tale to get her money.
Does he think I have money?Or is he hoping I’ll be his cover? His alibi when shit goes down and he gets caught. Maybe he’s the one doing all the evil stuff, and our family is a front.
I start to laugh at how ridiculous my imagination has become when Cliff’s dogs start barking, scaring about ten years off of my life.Holy shit.I almost pulled a Ted E. Ruxpin and peed on myself right here in the middle of the driveway.
Tiptoeing inside so as not to wake the kids, I carefully drop my keys and bags by the entryway table. The television isn’t on and no lights are illuminated in the great room. Just to be sure, I tiptoe over to see if Luca’s fallen asleep on the couch.Hmm. Maybe he decided to take me up on resting in the guest room.
I decide to check on the kids before thanking Luca and letting him go home. As I take the steps I muse,You just need to decide, Jilly. Do you want to believe him or not?The situation he paints may be far-fetched, but you’ve lived through enough craziness to know it’s a very real possibility. Just because you’ve never had to deal with the entities he’s describing, doesn’t mean it isn’t real.
I visit each of the kids’ rooms and find them all tucked away in their beds. I’m sure they had a great night. Luca seems to go out of his way to try to make the moments they spend together magical. Truitt is asleep, all sprawled out with his arms over his head.
I head to Myla’s room next. She’s lying on her side, eyes closed, seemingly peaceful. But this child’s nights can turn on a dime. Let’s pray this one stays as is.
Finally, I stop by Caleb’s room. I never expect to see him tossing or turning. He goes hard all day and is usually asleep the minute his head hits the pillow. I have to admit I’m jealous. I can’t seem to turn my brain off right away, regardless of how tired I may be.
Taking the steps at the end of the hall to the third floor guest room, I pause when I reach the door. It’s ajar, and I can see Luca lying on his side. His eyes are closed and his breaths are slow and even. God, this man is beautiful. I slowly back out into the hallway, so I don’t risk waking him. I need a shower. I’ll set my alarm for early in the morning to be sure I wake him with enough time to get going before the kids wake.
The hot water against my tired achy muscles feels luxurious after a long day in the emergency room. Between the threat of bringing germs home, despite being careful, and the physical toll nursing can take, these showers are like my mini spa treatment. I lather shampoo in my hair, rinse, and condition before applying a new body wash I splurged on. Popping the cap, I take a whiff. It smells like berries and sunshine. After the smells I’ve endured today, this little indulgence is priceless.
After rinsing off, I turn off the spray and towel dry before pulling my satin yellow nightgown over my head. Reaching for my towel again, I run it through my wet locks as I look at myself in the mirror. The overhead lights cause a multicolored prism to dance in my reflection as they hit the gold St. Michael’s pendant. Why am I still wearing this? I should’ve removed it right away and returned it to him. But at least he knows where it is.
Turning off the light, I head to my bed. It’s odd lying down to sleep, knowing Luca is upstairs. What would it feel like to climb into bed with him? To lie there in his strong, muscular arms? I wouldn’t dare. I’m trying hard to respect his decision to keep our relationship platonic. Even if my heart, head, and body aren’t entirely on board.
I pull the covers up as I snuggle into my pillow.Alone. I hope sleep calls me quickly, because thinking of him so near could have me doing things I shouldn’t. Reaching up, I grasp the pendant and start to thank St. Michael for the protection he’sgiven us through Luca when I hear the familiar sound of cries in the darkness.
Bolting out of bed, I rush down the hall to Myla’s room. You’d think she’d be awash in happiness on nights like these, reducing her chances of having night terrors. Pushing through her door, I rush to her side and immediately stop. She’s just as I’d left her. Calm, tranquil. Is my mind doing a number on me?
Rubbing the back of my neck, I slowly back out of her room, pulling the door behind me when I hear it again. I know it’s not my imagination now. I walk further down the hall. I know it can’t be Truitt. And Caleb’s never woken up during the night before. I double check to be sure, wondering if I’m mistaking the dogs wailing next door for a person crying. Then the deep timber of the agonizing cry hits me.
I fly up the stairs two at a time and push through the guest room door to see him thrashing against the bed linens. The painful sobs erupting from him are gut-wrenching. “Luca, Luca.” I shake him. “Baby, please wake up.” Using as much force as I can muster, I grab hold of both shoulders and shake him roughly. “Luca.”
His eyes blink open, mechanically, like a toy doll. There’s no emotion behind them. But the tears are there. Witnessing this has torn open a place in my heart I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to put back together. It’s one thing to comfort my daughter night after night. It’s almost routine. But to see this strong, overprotective man who puts everyone first look so broken is gut-wrenching.
“Luca. It’s okay. You’re okay.” I try to soothe, running my fingers through his sweaty hair.
