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Hot.
The man was hot.
"Hey, look who it is," Brio declared to Santi who was coming out of the hallway.
"Salvatore," Santi said, a genuine smile curving his lips as he held out his hand toward the man. "Glad to see you out."
"Glad to see you in," Salvatore said in a low, raspy sort of voice I hadn't been expecting.
"And you," Salvatore said, turning to face me when I didn't even think he'd clocked me from my position on the couch. "The hero," he declared, giving me a smile. "I don't think we ever got a chance to meet," he said, coming close to sit on the edge of the coffee table, reaching a hand out toward my good one. And once he had it, he closed his other hand around it. "Salvatore Costa."
"Alessa Morelli," I said.
"Well, Alessa, I am going to find the motherfuckers who did this to you," he informed me.
"You just got out of prison for murder," I reminded him, shaking my head. "Are you trying to go back in?"
"I take my punches. Lack of pussy aside, it wasn't a rough ride."
"Tell that to the scar on your neck," I said, seeing a long, deep gash—puckered and pink and nasty—that had to have come from a prison attack.
"Oh, baby, that's not even the prettiest one I got," he said, smile devilish, like he was proud of getting shivved in prison. "You're gonna have some scars soon too," he told me, reaching to pull the neck of my shirt wide."
"Hey," Santi snapped when I was too surprised to react as Salvatore peeled back the gauze, and checked out my wound.
"Getting kinda weird, man," Brio declared when he continued to stare, his jaw so tight it was ticking.
"Got that good hospital treatment," Salvatore declared, putting the gauze back into place.
"I, ah, yeah," I agreed.
"Want a cup of coffee, man?" Brio asked, clamping a hand on Salvatore's shoulder, leading him away.
"That was weird, right?" I asked in a low whisper to Santi who dropped down in the spot Salvatore abandoned.
"He was never fully right in the head," Santi admitted. "Can't imagine prison helped that at all."
"I mean you have to be pretty twisted if you freak out Brio, right?" I asked, wincing.
"I guess time will tell," Santi agreed with a shrug.
"Hey, at least he's not squeamish. If I can't handle changing my bandages, I can have—"
"I will help," Santi cut me off, tone brooking no argument.
"I can't ask—"
"You're not asking," he interjected. "I'm offering. Now, do you want to stay here, or do you want me to help you into bed?"
Oh, I wanted him to help me into bed alright.
"I don't want to move yet," I told him.
"Okay," he agreed, reaching out to grab the blanket, pulling it up over my body, tucking it up behind my good shoulder.
His fingertips grazed up the side of my neck, and a shiver coursed through me at the contact. Not one of the discreet internal ones, either. Nope. This one racked my body gently, but very visibly.
Santi's eyes went heated in response, a look that made my sex tighten hard, more needy than I felt comfortable admitting.
"I'm glad you're okay, Alessa," he said, voice soft.
Then, like he was uncomfortable, he shot up off the coffee table, and rushed toward the kitchen to stand with the guys.
All I knew for the rest of the night was a mix of sleep and pain when I needed to make a trip to the bathroom.
At some point, Santi settled me in bed.
Which was where I woke back up, past due for pain meds, and grumbling, then dragging my ass to the bathroom where I went ahead and cursed it out in private.
Or so I thought.
"I'm gonna get Dad," Avi declared, standing in the connected doorway to his own room, eyes panicked.
"Bud, I'm okay," I insisted, not even sure what time it was, if Santi would be up yet.
"I'm getting Dad," he insisted, voice firm, then turning to do just that.
It was only maybe two minutes later that Santi moved into the doorway.
In his black pajama pants that hung way too low on his hips. His hair was all bed-sexy and shit too.
Insult to injury.
"How do you look like that when you just wake up?" I grumbled, looking at my haggard reflection.
"I'm sure it helps that I haven't been shot multiple times," Santi said, moving in behind me, shaking my pill bottle. "I didn't want to wake you up for your dose. I guess I should have," he said, shaking one into his hand, then handing it to me as I got a cup of water.
"It's okay. It kicks in pretty quickly. I might try to figure out how to wash my hair in the meantime," I said, glancing back at the shower dubiously. The doctor said I could shower if I was careful, but I didn't feel up to that yet.
