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Chapter Fifteen – Luca
There’s something almost sacred about walking through the house late at night, when everything is quiet and nearly everyone has gone to bed save the handful of guards still on duty. I nod to Connor in passing before he turns back to his patrol of the eastern side of the house, beyond the kitchen doors.
Rather than go up the stairs, I continue to the west wing, where Marco and Scott and Nick and Giorgio are on patrol. The latter two are older than me, men who memorized every inch of the property back when I was in high school, running around with a chronic hard-on while they were risking their lives for our family. I wonder if they remember that cocky know-it-all kid when they look at me now. Either way, it doesn’t get in the way of them doing their jobs. They’re professionals. Dad only ever associated himself with professionals.
We spend so little time in this half of the house. The ballroom has sat dark and empty since the last New Year’s party only a few months before the explosion. The most memorable part of the evening for me was fucking a pair of twins from the Donatelli family, pulling them into a closet one at a time to make sure the other one didn’t know. That was my big, proud moment that night, sneaking off to get my dick wet while Dad’s back was turned. It seems my life hasn’t been long enough yet to hold this much regret, but here I am.
The memory of the twins turns my thoughts back to the present situation. Not that my thoughts needed much encouragement to turn in that direction. Not like I haven’t spent the past few days with Delilah and her twin at the forefront of my mind.
I pull out my phone and send a quick text over to Rick, guarding Deanna’s room until morning.Status update.
He doesn’t keep me waiting—I doubt he’s very busy.Everything is the same. Nurses hate me being here. Yes, I’m sure they do, but they might hate it a hell of a lot more if Deanna was somehow killed while in their care. I doubt it would come to that, but we can’t be too careful.
It’s clear everything is under control around here. There’s nothing left for me to do but get a few hours of sleep. My feet are heavy as I climb the stairs, the thought of an empty bedroom and an empty bed not exactly enough to entice me. Times like this a man wishes he had a warm body waiting for him, someone who might be awake to listen to a few concerns or at least offer a little comfort, a little peace.
The thought makes me pause in front of Delilah’s door. It makes me reach for the doorknob, though I quickly pull my hand away. I can’t drag her any deeper into this. It wouldn’t be fair. No matter how much I need her.
I’m about to turn away when I hear something coming from inside the bedroom. Not her voice, but her footsteps. The faint sound draws me closer to the door, where I almost touch my ear to the surface. She’s pacing around in there, I realize, the sound getting louder and softer depending upon how close she is to the door.
Of course, she’d be upset right now. Her nerves are probably shot, she’s probably worried sick. Here I am, concerned with myself and what I need, while she’s suffering. And she isn’t the kind of person who’s had a lot of practice sitting back and waiting for things to happen. She’s used to being in the thick of it, looking after those she cares about.
I can relate, which is why I can’t help but knock. I tell myself it’s for her sake, an act of mercy, even if I know better deep down inside. “You okay in there?” I murmur. She goes silent and my heart sinks with every passing second. What’s she going to do, pretend I’m hearing things?
To my relief, she opens the door wide enough to look out. “Was I being too loud?” she whispers.
“No. I happened to hear you on the way to my room.”
“It’s a little late for you to just be packing it in now, isn’t it?”
“Are you going to report me to somebody? Tattle on me for staying up too late?” Her brief smile makes me glad I knocked.
“I would have to tattle on myself, too,” she reminds me. “How would I know you were up so late if I wasn’t awake, too?”
“Good point.” Now I don’t want to leave her. It would seem cruel, knowing she’s feeling like this and saying goodnight anyway. “Would you like some company?”
Her eyes widen before she gets a hold of herself. “Sure.” She opens the door a little wider before I shake my head.
“I meant, would you like to come with me. I need to get changed out of these clothes and everything.” What am I, a fumbling teenager? What is it about this woman that turns me into a drooling loser? I’m so glad Vincent isn’t anywhere nearby. He’d never let me live it down.
“Okay.” Now it’s obvious she doesn’t trust where this is going. Either that or she’s surprised at being invited to my suite. Now that I think about it, she’s never been there before. Not many people have.
“I checked with Rick,” I inform her on the way down the hall in hopes of loosening her up. She’s walking like she forgot to remove the hanger from her nightgown—her thin, short nightgown which inspires no shortage of ideas. “Your sister is doing fine. Nothing has changed.”
“Thank you for checking on her. Thank you for having somebody there with her all the time.”
“It’s the least I can do.”
“That’s not true. You’ve already done a lot. And I wish I could tell you how much it means.”
I’m not a hero. I want to warn her of that, but I don’t think I could be blamed for also wanting to bask in her admiration for just a little longer. “You don’t have to,” I settle on responding, opening the door and ushering her inside.
She stops short once I turn on the lights. “This isn’t what I expected.”
I look around, shrugging. “What, were you imagining a torture chamber?” There’s the bed, the long dresser, the armoire. A TV mounted on the wall opposite the foot of the bed. An armchair by the window, a few stacks of books I haven’t yet gotten around to reading. I don’t know if I ever will.
“I don’t know. This is very normal, I guess.”
“Sorry to disappoint.” I take off my jacket and hang it over the armchair while she takes a tentative seat on the bed.
