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Chapter Ten – Delilah
Got him.
I had to say something to stir him out of this weird, overly formal attitude he’s put on. I need him to be real, not some benevolent-but-distant weirdo. After leaving me virtually alone for a week, I think I deserve the real Luca.
Plus, it gives me the pleasure of watching him sputter. Always a good time.
“What?” He blurts out a laugh. “Where the fuck did that come from? You want me to—”
“I want you to come with me so I can fall asleep,” I explain while fighting off a grin. There’s nothing light or funny about any of this, but I can’t pretend his surprise isn’t at least amusing. Now he’s the one lost in the dark, wondering what sort of game this is and how he’s supposed to play when he doesn’t know the rules. Now he knows how I’ve felt all this time.
“Oh.” His face scrunches up in a look of confusion. “The pain meds plus alcohol won’t do it?”
“That room is like a mausoleum. I’m alone. Nobody to talk to. Ever heard of people needing to process the kind of trauma I went through?” I hate using that word, but it’s the closest I can come to the truth. “How am I supposed to do that when I’m alone all day and all night?”
“I’m not equipped—”
“Don’t give me that. You don’t need to be equipped. You just need to listen. Stay with me until I fall asleep.” When his look of disapproval doesn’t lessen, I add, “I don’t want you to think I’m ungrateful for everything you’ve done, but let’s be honest. It wouldn’t be necessary if I wasn’t being forced into staying here. Wouldn’t you agree?”
I’ll give him one thing. He’s nothing if not honest about himself. When he feels like it, anyway. “Fair enough. But only until you fall asleep. I have a lot to do.”
“Yes, you’re a very busy, important man.”
“You’re damn right.” He leaves his glass on the desk and I do the same after draining it in one quick gulp. “You really needed that, huh?”
“And you would know why I needed it if you had spoken to me before tonight.” Rather than wait for him to defend himself, I leave the room without a backward glance. It isn’t long until his footfalls echo behind me as he trails me down the hall.
“Do I need to remind you of everything that goes into a situation like the one we’re in right now? This isn’t a game. I’ve been on the phone and receiving updates from countless locations for days.”
“That’s very interesting.” The guards who notice this pretend not to, probably because they know their boss wouldn’t like them witnessing him basically getting ignored.
He catches up to me on the stairs, falling in step beside me. “Could you manage not to sound so sarcastic?”
“Considering you walked past my bedroom door every single morning and every single night but never once thought to poke your head in, I don’t think sarcasm is our biggest problem right now. If anything, I’m insulted you think I’m that stupid.”
“I would use a lot of words to describe you. Stupid isn’t one of them.” I can’t help but smile to myself, even if earning his approval shouldn’t be something I strive for.
He makes a big deal of standing at the foot of the bed with his arms folded while I pull out a pair of pajamas. When I start taking off my shirt, he clears his throat. “Should I be here for this?”
Now that is worth laughing at, and I do. “Since when does it matter? All of a sudden, you don’t own my body anymore? No offense, but give me a break.”
“That’s not how I meant it,” he snaps, finally letting his true self come to the surface. “I didn’t know if you wanted anybody looking at you right now. I’m sure you aren’t completely healed yet.”
“Actually, I’m very close to being healed. My ribs are still a little sore, but the bruises are fading.” To prove my point, I quickly lift the t-shirt over my head and toss it aside. Like tearing off a Band-Aid. Truth be told, I’m not thrilled about showing myself off right now.
But he needs to see. He deserves to see.
The expression he wears is one of concern mixed with what most men get in their minds when they see a woman’s half-naked body. It’s like he’s fighting himself, seeing which of those two sides will win out.
Finally, he sighs. “I am sorry for what he did to you. And I’m sorry for any role I played in putting you in his crosshairs. I know you won’t believe this, but that’s the last thing I ever wanted to happen.”
I almost feel embarrassed now that I’ve heard him say it, not to mention how he sounds. For the first time since I’ve met him, he sounds truly sorry for something he’s done. He almost sounds the way he did the night we first had a real, honest conversation in his study, after dinner with Vincent and everything that followed.
“For what it’s worth, I don’t blame you.”
“It doesn’t matter. I blame myself.” He lifts his chin a little, his brows knitting together in concern. “I didn’t say that to make you feel bad, either. So don’t put that on me.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” I pull a satin nightshirt over my head, then take off my leggings and replace them with a pair of matching shorts. I’ve come a long way from a t-shirt full of holes—even though these don’t belong to me. Nothing around here actually belongs to me.
