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And it makes no difference what JoJo says. I know that this is because of me.
When Liam O’Malley comes to speak to me alone later, a chasm of fear opens inside me. He’s the law and the prophet in this family. His eyes are relentless. I know that he will see straight through me.
He has the knack for directing his voice so that only the person he’s speaking to can hear. Even when he speaks quietly to me, the power in his voice is like a sermon from on high.
“Lucy, you’ve had a terrible shock. You shouldn’t have had to go through any of that, but it’s no consolation now. Thomas, our driver, is outside. Take yourself home, get a shower. Or go to the O’Malley compound if you prefer. You’re always more than welcome. Whatever you want.”
“I’m okay.”
He takes my hand gently, but I feel his strength. “I’d hate to be contradicting you, Lucy.” He really sees through me. “Paul is going to be under sedation tonight at least. Make yourself comfortable. Get some rest.”
Reluctantly, I agree.
He tells me, “This should never have happened, Lucy. There’s a code. Family members are all off-limits. Sisters, daughters, wives, children, anyone. Especially innocent females.”
“But I’m not…”
“You’re as good as. And the Morettis should know that.” He lifts my chin. “So don’t you worry. Paul is tough. I’m sure he’s going to get through this.”
I nod.
“And Lucy,” he hasn’t let go of my hand, “just for now, wherever you go, have Thomas take you. We don’t want there to be any more misfortunes.”
Chapter Ten
Paul
A white room comes into focus. Too slowly. I’m in a strange bed and I can’t move. Dull, annoying machines beep all around me.
As my eyes adjust, I feel like I’ve been asleep or unconscious for a week. My head, my arms, and my chest have wires and tubes attached to them. Dad stands over the bed.
With a shock, I remember the crash. I jolt upright. “Where’s Lucy?”
Some of the tubes yank out of my arm. A stand with a drip topples. My head hurts. “Dad, is she okay? Where is she?”
He lays a strong hand on my forearm. “She’s safe, Paul. Relax.”
“I need to be with her, Dad. I have to protect her.”
Dad nods. “It’s all fine. She’s not hurt, and I have Thomas looking after her.” Thomas is a good man. But I need to see her. Dad tries to press me back down onto the bed.
“Lucas Moretti has given me his word, son. I’ve negotiated a truce.”
“Dad, I need to see her.”
“I know, Paul. But first, you need to rest. The Morettis want to meet, but we’ve got a little breathing space. You need to have some faith.”
I’m ripping out the tubes and wires, swinging my legs painfully out of the bed. Dad puts a hand on my shoulder. “What makes you think the Morettis will keep their word?”
“We all know the code.”
It’s not enough. “I won’t be able to think until I see her. I probably won’t even be able to speak, Dad. Not coherently.”
Dad puts a firm grip on my shoulder. Holds my hand at the same time. “Son, we need you well. You don’t have to say or do anything, Paul. Leave it all to me.” His hand on my shoulder gives me strength. But what I need is to see Lucy. He says, “Your presence is all that’s required at the meet. Just show them your face. For goodwill. And it will be brief.” His fingers tighten on my shoulder. I see him losing patience.
“Okay, Dad.” I get it. I can see that it has to be this way. But it will have to be quick.
I’m going mad with every minute it takes. Getting dressed and ready, I’m impatient. I don’t want to wear the bandage, but the pretty nurse insists. “You shouldn’t even be out of sedation yet, Mr. O’Malley. You’re not well enough to be out of bed, never mind leave the hospital.”
All the time it takes, driving to the empty opera house Lucas Moretti has chosen for the meet, every moment keeps me from Lucy. It grinds me up.
Lucas Moretti is on the huge stage, sitting in a single spotlight at a big, polished table. Fucking Italian drama queen.
As soon as the ritual greetings and the snarled pleasantries are out of the way and we sit, Lucas tells Dad, “You stole the King Pine out from under us.”
Dad’s head cocks to one side. “Lucas…” He spreads his hands on the table. Ignoring Dad’s dark scowl, I jump in.
“Lucas, King Pine’s owner was already working through the details of a deal with Dad. If anyone was trying to poach the place, it was you.”
Lucas Moretti glowers as he pushes his knuckles into the table, about to rise. I lift my palm an inch. Drop my voice.
