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Haunted.
Ah, yes. The monsters always came at night, when you needed sleep and peace desperately. When you were most vulnerable. Sawyer motioned toward the chair next to him.
“Actually, do me a favor. Sit down for a minute. I’m in a pissy mood and don’t feel like being alone.”
The boy moved into the living area, sat on the silver cushions, and pushed away a fancy blue striped pillow.
Sawyer recognized the sheen of sweat on his forehead, the wrinkled shirt from twisting back and forth in the sheets, and the hollow cheeks. The boy finally spoke. “What’s up? I thought you had a good night.”
“I thought so, too.” A short silence fell. Usually he dis-liked anyone in his personal space, but Wolfe’s presence comforted him. “Had a nightmare. you get them?”
Wolfe shifted on the cushion. “yeah.” He paused.
“What was it about?”
Sawyer studied the boy on his couch and realized how similar to Danny he was. young. Strong. Mouthy. Smart as hell. But with his bare feet and his crazy hair, he seemed so damn vulnerable. So easy to . . . disappoint. Again. He cleared his throat. “Bad stuff. Getting beaten, trying to survive. you?”
Wolfe’s blue eyes turned flat. “Same.”
Sawyer reached for normal conversation, not wanting to torture the kid with a minefield of feelings he still tried to process. “I have to be at the site early in the morning.
Can you sort through the inventory records so I’m set for delivery?”
“yep.”
“Dinner was good, huh?”
“I liked the pasta. Better than any meal in some of those fancy restaurants you go to.”
“yeah, Mama Conte doesn’t fool around when it comes to a meal. How was your conversation?”
He ducked his head. “She was so nice to me.”
“She saved my ass when I was a little older than you.
She’s good people.”
“yeah.”
“The whole family is amazing. And have you tasted any of their desserts? Un-frikkin’-believable.”
“Does it ever go away?”
The question shot through the room like a cannon mis-fire. Sawyer quickly covered his surprise and gazed back at the boy. Lips tight, chin up, something wobbling in his eyes, a gleam of desperation for normalcy, a need to hear the words that it would all go away and he’d be happy for the rest of his life.
A connection fused between them. His chest tightened, and a soul-deep need to take away the boy’s pain blistered inside. God, he wanted to lie. But he knew truth was more important.
“No.” The devastation on Wolfe’s face choked him.
“But it gets better. I swear to you, there will be nights with no nightmares or memories. you’re able to handle more normal stuff. Work helps. Maybe therapy.”
Wolfe sneered. “Did that. No, thanks.”
“Depends on the shrink. Some are decent. I bailed, too.
But we can look around and try again.”
Wolfe nodded. “okay. At least you were honest.”
An image of his brother dead in an alleyway like a piece of garbage rose up and taunted him. Sawyer dragged in a breath. “I’ll always tell you the truth. And I’ll help in any way I can. Day by day. And I know I’m not the touchy-feely type either, but you can talk to me. About anything.”
Wolfe gave a jerky nod. Some of the muscles in his body loosened. “Thanks, Sawyer.”
Sawyer made a fast decision. The hell with it. There’d be no sleep for them anyway tonight. He stood up and motioned to Wolfe. “Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“My kind of therapy. The gym. Meet you back here in five. Deal?”
“Deal.”
Sawyer trudged to his room to change, preparing for a few rounds at the bag, some on the mat, and a vicious weight competition. His spirits lightened as he looked forward to a few hours of sweat, the blessed emptiness of mind and soul, and the company of a boy for whom he was beginning to deeply care. He grabbed his duffel and headed out.
Chapter Eleven
Julietta studied the tilt of the painting and wondered how it had gotten knocked askew. Her skin prickled as her usual oCD grabbed hold. Carina had sent it to her as a gift, and the image calmed her each time she looked up. She’d decided to put it in her office rather than her home since she spent most of her time here, especially with the subject matter.
Her papa sat at the head of the carved pine table in their kitchen. Plates of food, baskets of bread, and wine bottles were scattered across the surface. A blur of shadows made up the members seated around him, their faces not visible but the target of her father’s stare. His hands clasped in front of him, dark eyes filled with a naked love as he looked at his family. Gray hair carefully combed back from his forehead, his face a mass of lines from both weari-ness and laughter, his long Italian nose dominating his features.
Their relationship had been different. She was defi-nitely Daddy’s girl, but it went deeper, a type of shared understanding between them that La Dolce Famiglia was the backbone of the family’s sweat, blood, and tears. The respect she had for him and the way he worked to make her mother’s dream a reality pushed her to consistently do better. For him. For her. For everyone.
Julietta loved looking at the painting when she was thinking over a business decision or when the employees left for the day and she stayed behind alone. As if Carina knew Julietta needed someone to look after her.
She wondered if Sawyer had ever had that experience in his life.
Julietta had stayed up all night analyzing every detail of their last encounter like a lovesick teen. The way he demanded she deal with him and her emotions. The way he never crumbled or became intimidated by her cool words, choosing instead to look beyond and find the truth. Her head said to stay away, but her body and heart cried out for more.
While she tossed and turned and waited for dawn, an odd truth finally revealed itself. She took many chances in her work world but had never taken one leap in her personal life. over and over she walked away from complica-tions or the threat of unrest in her safe little bubble. Now, all her siblings were happily married, starting families, and she was still alone.
Julietta drummed her nails against her desk and focused on her papa. Would he be proud of her? or would he have shaken his head in regret at her inability to take a leap? Though he’d frown on engaging in a sexual affair with no permanence, Julietta knew she had to follow it through.
