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The man was never rumpled, never looked tired, and never had so much as a five o-clock shadow.
Antonio had woken me up, cooked me breakfast while I showered and got dressed, and then had taken me to the roof deck.
The mansion had a stunning roof deck, complete with benches and planters with a wrought iron railing along most of the four sides. Nothing about it was new. There was an actual slate stone floor that was probably pretty slippery when it was wet. Even the plants up here looked old, in a beautifully wizened sort of way. I looked everywhere, hungry for the sight of the world. The sky, the city beyond, the ground. I even took a moment to stare down at Sara’s shoes. I was so out of place here. The little booties were the only thing left of my old life, and they weren’t even mine.
“Here, take my jacket,” he said as he shrugged out of his wool blazer, laying it over my shoulders. I was instantly warm. It was hard not to notice the way his muscles bunched and moved. No matter else what you said about him, the man was physically perfect in a way I hadn’t even known was possible.
“Do you work out a lot?” I asked inanely. He gave me a smug smile. He knew I had noticed his body. Smooth, Evie.
I shivered again, but it had nothing to do with the cool air.
“There’s a gym downstairs. I lift and row a couple of times a week. Rock climbing with Vincent when he has time. I run. But mostly, I do pushups every day, whenever and wherever I am. I have since I was ten.”
“I used to swim,” I said, once again feeling foolish. “And go for walks. I’ve never been . . . muscular.”
“You’re perfect,” he said, tugging me in close. He pushed my hair away from my face, looking me over. Then he sighed.
“We have to talk. Something is coming. Something I didn’t want you to have to deal with.”
“Something?”
“Someone,” he amended. I felt suddenly alert. Was this one of the things he had promised to protect me from? He looked away and then back at me. “My father.”
I blinked, a heavy feeling of dread settling in my stomach.
“You don’t like him.”
Antonio laughed. The sound was tinged with so much bitterness that it shocked me.
“To understand the depth of my hatred for my father, I have to start at the beginning. Are you warm enough?”
He stared at me, waiting for my answer. I realized he would always do this. He would always worry about me. Not just me, either. He would always help a woman in trouble.
Even though he was a criminal, he was a knight in shining armor, too.
“Yes,” I said softly, afraid to break the spell.
Antonio nodded and led me over to a bench that looked out onto the city, framed by the blue expanse of the bay.
“This was my mother’s favorite spot to sit,” he said, not letting go of my hand as we sat. “She knew he couldn’t . . . he wouldn’t hurt her up here.” He gave me a look that broke my heart. “He didn’t want anyone to see.”
I swallowed, suddenly afraid of what he was going to tell me.
“He hit her. Always in places she could cover up. A few times, she had to wear those big sunglasses, even indoors. But that was the least of it. The verbal and emotional abuse were constant. He never stopped picking at her. Criticizing her. That day . . . he told her she was a bad mother. That it was her fault I didn’t behave.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I moved a little closer. He looked so wretched. So alone. It was crazy to think that such a big, strong man could be so vulnerable, but he was.
He was letting me in.
Something inside me seemed to open like a flower. If he was brave enough to let me in, how could I do any less than the same for him? Not right away. But maybe in time . . .
“It’s not your fault,” I said, gently resting my hand on his arm. “Whatever happened, it is not your fault.”
He reached up and squeezed my hand. I could tell instantly that he didn’t believe me. I knew the bad part was coming.
“Dad told people she slipped. But I don’t think so. She had to . . . walk through the gap in the fence to get close enough to the edge. I think . . . well, maybe she did fall. But she wouldn’t have been that close to the edge if she wasn’t at least considering it.”
I stifled my gasp. She had jumped. His mother had jumped to escape a life of constant abuse.
