Feeling frustrated and helpless, I went to the window, pushed aside the curtain, and scanned the driveway, as if I could magically summon him to the in-law suite at the Mariani mansion. Maybe I had, because headlights coming from the gate, flooded the street. Excited and hopeful, I flung open the door and ran out.
Angel’s Hummer parked in front of me. Three doors opened, and Angel, Markie, and one of the guards from our building all piled out. Markie ran straight for me and wrapped me in a hug.
“Ohmigod, I’m so glad you’re okay,” she said, squeezing me so tight I could barely breathe.
“I’m fine,” I said, pulling away. “Just worried about Bones. You haven’t heard anything, have you?”
Both she and Angel shook their heads.
“I’ll call him,” Angel said, pulling out his phone. “See if I can find out where he is.”
“Thank you.”
Moments later, Angel frowned, lowering his phone. “He’s not answering. But there are other people I can call to help him. Come on. Let’s go inside and I’ll make some calls.”
Markie and I huddled on the couch as Angel made phone calls to what seemed like at least half his family, explaining the situation as Nonna had explained it to him.
“Ren,” Angel said into his phone, his body tensing. “You know I wouldn’t ask this shit of you if it wasn’t legit. Bones needs to come in so he can explain everything to Father. If Carlo wasn’t dirty, he’d respect that, but instead, he’s out there trying to kill Bones. You gotta ask yourself why. What’s he so afraid of Father hearing? Father did call Carlo in. He hasn’t responded. Okay. That’s all I’m asking. Thanks, man.”
Angel hung up and dialed another number.
“He’ll be okay,” Markie assured me. “My God, Ari, you should have heard him talk to Carlo. He went all macho and protective of you, saying, ‘No, I’m not letting her die.’ He really took a stand for you, and it was awesome.”
Keeping one eye on the window, still watching for Bones, I listened as Markie told me all about Carlo’s phone call and Bones’s reaction. My heart warmed at the idea of Bones caring about me so much that he’d basically flipped his boss the finger, knowing it could cost him his life.
“He said he protects what’s his,” Markie gushed.
My heart squeezed in my chest. Bones had finally given me a title. His. It was perfect. I wanted nothing more than to be his, and if anything happened to him… I didn’t know what I’d do.
Anxiety gripped my mind and stomach, making me crave the numbness alcohol and drugs incited. The numbness I’d sought so often with Matt. I hadn’t craved an escape from reality since Bones and I started sleeping together. Thinking over the past few weeks, I realized thathewas my break from reality.
Bones was my drug.
But instead of leaving me feeling empty and ashamed, he made me feel full and happy.
When Markie finished with her tale of Bones’s loyalty to me, I told her about how he’d contacted Nonna, making sure I was cared for even while he wasn’t.
“You really love him, don’t you?” Markie asked.
I nodded. “I wish I would have told him before…” I couldn’t finish, so I clamped my mouth shut.
“Shhhh,” she chided, running her fingers over my hair like I was a kid again. “You’ll have lots of chances after he gets here.”
Hoping my sister was right, I turned back toward the window, watching and waiting. Markie tried to wait with me, but she was still recovering, and it was well past midnight. She curled up on the couch beside me and passed out, her mere presence a comfort I couldn’t have survived without.
Almost an hour later, more headlights appeared at the gate. Hoping, praying, wishing, I rushed to the door and threw it open. A rough-looking black van pulled to a stop beside Angel’s Hummer. I watched as three doors opened and figures emerged.
Bones.
He’d been driving.
I didn’t even think. I ran to him, throwing my arms around his neck as I covered his face in kisses. His hands locked around my waist as he pulled me closer.
“You’re okay,” I said, reassuring myself.
“Yep. I’m okay.”
He gave me a lopsided smirk… a smirk that would be the death of me. Or the life of me, I wasn’t sure which. I drank in every perfect line and curve of his face, committing them to memory. Committing them to my heart.
