Page 47 of Safe Word

Nobody would’ve ever suspected a son of doing something like that to his own father.

When it became clear Ezio would never wake from the coma, I knew I had to regain control. Therapy, I thought. It should’ve fixed me. It should’ve put the monster back in its cage for a little while, at least.

When my search for my mother failed, I relocated us to Italy, leaving the wreckage of our old life behind. The family home in Florence was long gone, gambled away by Ezio’s greed. I’d sold what I could in New York and bought the penthouse I lived in now.

Thank fuck for Vinnie’s sad story that pushed him in my direction; we left together after that. I wouldn’t have been able to do it without him. He’d had a life plan, a business plan, and money left by his late parents.

After that, twenty percent of all my earnings went to the hospice where Ezio lived, breathing but never waking. Every month, I’d made the drive, stewing in memories I couldn’t escape, reminding myself who I really was.

A man haunted by the ghosts of his past. A villain wearing the face of redemption.

As always, I parked near the entrance. There weren’t many cars here; this wasn’t a place people visited unless they had to. The building itself was nondescript, as plain and forgettable as the lives inside it. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the cracked pavement.

Inside, the atmosphere was suffocatingly familiar. The short redhead at the front desk greeted me with her perfect, overly bright smile, her lipstick a shade too bold for a hospice. Her eyes lingered on mine, a spark of something flirtatious passing on to me as she gave a knowing glance to the black-haired nurse who always seemed to appear when I arrived.

They made it so obvious. Like high-school girls.

It would’ve been too easy to take them both, lead them into one of the empty rooms, have my way with them until they couldn’t think straight – just to further defile his place of dwelling. But I wouldn’t do it. I never did. They weren’t here for me.

Their real purpose was to care for the monster in room Five. My monster.

‘Good afternoon, Mr D’Angelo,’ the redhead said in her lilting Italian, the grin on her face laced with suggestion. ‘You’re in for a treat today.’

That made me pause, my pen hovering over the register. A treat? I frowned, dismissing the unease creeping up my spine, and scribbled my name under the visitors column.

The black-haired nurse was at my side before I’d taken another step, her perfume cloying as she trailed too close, chattering away about Ezio’s vitals, about how different today was. I feigned excitement. But I didn’t care. I’d never cared. Let him die, I thought bitterly. Let him lay in that bed until the flesh rotted off his bones.

Maybe I should finish the job this time.

It was a thought I toyed with every time I’d come here, a silent dare to cross the line I’d danced on for years.

Another nurse joined us. They exchanged glances – not the giddy kind. The too-still kind. The kind that braced for something.

The hallway was too quiet. There was no distant beeping. No rec-room music. Just the silence that places like this saved for death.

Now that made my fingers tingle.

My hand moved to the door handle, gripping it tightly as I pushed it open. The hinges groaned with my hesitation, and I stepped inside.

The room was dim, the air heavy with the scent of antiseptic and decay. My eyes adjusted to the muted light, but before I could process anything else, my gaze locked onto a pair of ice-blue eyes.

They pierced through me like daggers. My breath caught in a shallow gasp. My mind scrambled – a mess of disbelief and panic, trying to separate memory from reality.

This wasn’t real.

This couldn’t be real.

But then it spoke.

‘Ah, there’s my boy.’

That voice. That damned voice I hadn’t heard in over twenty years, except in my nightmares. It dropped with the same condescension, the same venom that haunted my childhood and defined my dreams.

He sat upright, his back against the headboard, his gaze fixed on me with a predatory intensity that sent a chill racing down my spine.

He stared. He waited.

Ezio was awake.