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He glances away and I blow out a sigh.
"Fine," I murmur, "I won’t push it, but you’d better not hurt her, okay?"
He simply pulls out his phone and begins to play with it again. I rise to my feet, holding Andy close to my chest with one arm. I grab the pet carrier with my free hand and walk over to a chair in an unoccupied corner.
Sitting down, I coax Andy back into the carrier. For once Andy doesn't protest, he prowls in, curls around and closes his eyes. I straighten, then take my seat. I lean my head back against the wall, and close my eyes. A touch on my shoulder jolts me awake. I open my eyes to see Massimo standing in front of me.
"What’s wrong?"
He jerks his chin toward the door. I follow his glance to find a doctor standing there in scrubs. His mask is around his neck and he glances around the room before his gaze alights on me.
"Mrs. Sovrano?" he says in a neutral voice. "Please come with me."
34
Karma
"What…what’s wrong?" I try to stand up, but my legs don’t seem capable of supporting me. I push my feet into the floor then straighten in my seat. "How…" I croak, "how is he?"
"The surgery went well; we removed the bullet."
A frisson of relief rushes through me, "Is he, is he going to be okay?" I rasp.
"The bullet missed his vital organs. He is a very lucky man."
Tension drains from my limbs, and I sink against the back of the chair, exhaling loudly.
"Is he…is he awake?"
"He’s not conscious, yet," the doctor replies, "but you can see him for a few minutes, if you’d like."
I nod, then rise to my feet. Christian rises with me, but I wave him off. "I’ll be fine," I tell him as I walk over to the doctor. I follow the doctor as he strides down the corridor.
He leads me to a room. "He’s inside." The doctor steps aside and I push the door open and step in. The beeps of the machines monitoring his vitals fill the space. He’s covered in a sheet that’s tucked around his waist. The bandage that is wrapped around his chest is stark against the tan of his skin. His eyes are shut, those gorgeous eyelashes fanning in an arch against his high cheekbones. His cheeks are pale, the hollows under his eyes more pronounced than normal. I walk over to him, reach over and take his hand in mine. My fingers look tiny against his. I hold his big palm between both of mine, then bring it to my face and press it against my cheek. His skin is warm, and that dark, edgy scent of his is tempered by the scent of antiseptic. It’s still him, though. My Capo. Mine.
Only, he’ll never leave this life. I couldn’t ask him to leave it. Which means he’ll always be in danger. Maybe a part of me has always known that. It’s why I had been attracted to him, after all… But now, with the evidence of how it could hurt him in front of me, I am not sure I can live with it. I lower his arm, place his hand on the bed next to him. Then I lean in and kiss his cheek. I push away the strand of hair that has fallen across his forehead, take in the whiskers that have grown across his jaw, the rise and fall of his chest, the sculpted planes still visible, despite the bandage that swathes him.
This man... Even unconscious, he’s lethal. Even with his charisma dimmed, he’s potent. I lean down and brush my lips over his. Soft lips, that could kiss so hard I could feel it all the way to my toes. I share his breath, revel in that unique maleness of his that is a combination of everything he is.
I am sorry, my Capo, but I am leaving. Sorry that I can’t stay with you and tell you so in person. If I did, you’d stop me and I’d never be able to refuse you. I’d give in to your dominance and stay… And then I’d never know if it was because I really wanted to stay, or if it was because I couldn’t turn you down. That’s why I am leaving now. Do you understand?
I turn to go and something tugs at my hand. I look down to find his fingers are wrapped around my wrist. I glance up at his face but his eyes are shut. Peer down at where he still holds onto me. I reach for his fingers and peel them off, one by one.
Tears pricks the backs of my eyes.Don’t cry, damn it. This is the right thing to do.If I have any hope of living life in a way that is true to myself, then I need to do this. It’s the right thing for both of us.
Just as I’d never ask him to leave the Mafia, he too should never force me to do something that I don’t want. And that was how our relationship started. With him taking me against my wishes.
Lots has changed since then, though. We know each other so much better. He knows what I am all about, what I like, and don’t like. Surely, he’ll understand?
I turn to leave, and this time, nothing stops me. I pause at the door, turn to look at him one last time. Then I head back to the waiting room. "Does anyone have a pen and paper?"
The guys look at each other, then Massimo reaches inside his jacket. He pulls out a small diary and a pen, before walking over to hand it to me.
I glance at it, then up at him, "Molesekine?"
He flushes, "I, uh, doodle a bit when I have time."
I open the book filled with pages of his surprisingly neat handwriting, until I find a clean page. I start to write and he turns his back to me. "Use me as a table," he tells me.
