Page 147 of Safe Word

We didn’t stop talking.

I snuggled into the same spot he’d occupied earlier, and traced the hem of my nightdress with restless fingers. His presence still lingered in the cushions, in the air, and I couldn’t explain the sudden ache in my chest. As though if I didn’t say what was on my mind now, the words would fester.

Tracing the bloodstain on the armrest, still feeling the warmth of his hand there, I took a deep breath and went for it.

‘Your dad…’ I paused, and I could all but hear him stiffening from the other end. ‘Want to know what I think?’

‘Go on,’ he said without hesitation, ready for the blow.

‘Donate your blood,’ I said. It wasn’t even a suggestion. It was something I felt in my gut – carved deep into the marrow. ‘It’s the right thing to do.’

‘I can’t go back there.’

He said it so simply, but the words scraped as if they hurt more than he let on.

I let it breathe for a beat.

‘I’ll go with you.’

‘Paula,’ he started, and the way he said my name, as if he was still trying to wrap his head around what I’d offered… it struck something sharp and tender in me. And I knew I couldn’t let this go now that he let me in. ‘This isn’t your problem. You don’t need to—’

‘Don’t give me that bullshit, D’Angelo,’ I cut in with a firmer note. ‘You want to be my knight in shining armour? Fine. But I’ll be yours too. Or no deal.’

There was another streak of long silence.

And then, softer, closer somehow—

‘Actually,’ he murmured, voice slipping into velvet, ‘you’d look good in armour.’

I laughed.

‘Good night, D’Angelo.’

‘Good night.’

Hanging up was hard.

Something flurry and restless nestled in my sternum that wouldn’t let me settle.

I couldn’t sleep at all. Cain had been at the forefront of my mind. A real man – flesh and blood – with his faults and virtues laid bare. Ghost, for all his allure, was only ever an echo of desire – that was as fleeting as it was hollow. Unreal. And, for the first time, I resented the fantasy.

I couldn’t shake the feeling of deliberate betrayal towards Cain for even entertaining the thought of seeing Ghost again, which I clearly wasn’t. The memory of him walking out the door flashed before my eyes in punctuation.

Without giving myself time to overthink it, I grabbed my phone, guilt and relief warring inside me as I typed a message to Gianna that I was safe.

I found myself staring at the screen, biting my nails, every second stretching into an eternity. A part of me wanted to text him again, my finger hovering over his name. But I called the nearest takeaway instead and blessed the gods of junk food that I’d be getting my guilty pleasure in ten minutes.

Too wound up to go to sleep, I poured myself some wine and wiped the dried drop of coffee on the counter – suddenly reminded of Vinnie’s advances not long ago.

Gritting my teeth, I realised this was going to be a dangerous edge to walk – Cain on one end, Vinnie on the other. Shit…

Just as I was about to reach for my robe, my phone lit up, the vibration rattling against my palm. My heart jumped, half-expecting it to be Ghost – but he didn’t have my personal number.

My uncle’s name screamed back at me in thick, bold letters. It froze me in place, considering it was nearly morning. And knowing my uncle never called at an indecent hour, a sense of dread curled in my gut.

I hesitated.

‘Zio?’ My voice wavered slightly when I answered.