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“Is everything okay?” she asks, barely poking her head through the crack. The fear is evident on her face.
My nostrils flare as I look at her, her hair still dripping, and only a white towel wrapped around her.
“Fuck. No. Not even close. Grayson’s been shot.”
She rushes towards me, squeezing her arms around me. I stiffen. I don’t know if I have ever had someone comfort me.
I rest my head on top of hers, her sweet scent calming my inner rage only slightly.
After a deep breath, I return her hug. “I have to go.”
She releases me and takes a step back, looking up at me with worried eyes. “Be careful, Luca. Please.”
I blink a few times, shaking my head. Now isn’t a time to worry about me.
“I’ll try.” I place a kiss on the top of her head and her breath hitches.
CHAPTERNINETEEN
rosa
“Shit,” I hiss, knocking over the bowl of beaten eggs across the counter.
The bacon sizzles on the stove as I wipe up the mess.
Okay, fry the bacon and boil the pasta. Check.
Now what?
I check my laptop on the counter and reread the recipe. Spaghetti carbonara. My mom’s favorite. Well, the only thing she could cook to Nona’s standards. Wiping the sweat from my forehead, it’s already eight pm. Luca hasn’t come home since going to the hospital last night. He’s texted a few times to let me know he’s okay, but I know he’s going to be hungry when he gets home.
Next, grate the cheese. Throwing open the cupboards beneath me, it’s got to be hiding around here somewhere. When Luca cooks, he makes it look so easy. I, however, am a disaster.
As I rummage through the cupboards, the front door slams shut.
“Luca, I’m in here!” I shout, peering up over the counter.
Weird, he always comes straight in to see me.
As I step around the corner to the living room, I find him slumped on the sofa with his head in his hands. His chest is shaking.
Is he crying?
I rush over to him and drop to my knees.
“Luca, are you okay?”
He shakes his head, yet won’t let me see his face. For everything this man has done for me these last few weeks, I have to help him.
“Luca, you can talk to me,” I whisper.
He looks at me through teary, bloodshot eyes.
Fuck. This isn’t good.
I sit on the sofa next to him and pat my lap. He shoots me a questioning look.
“Lie down.”
