I blink. I’d almost forgotten about that, about the way Leo’s fist smashed into my face, how he dragged the sharp iron edges down my cheek. “Clean first. Please.”
But when he carries me into the small bathroom, hazy with steam, I flinch at the sight of the bathtub. At the shape, my body locking up.
“Breathe,” he commands gently. “I won’t leave you, Cat.”
He doesn’t. Instead, he climbs right into the tub, holding me to him as he settles into the water, fully clothed. “Look at me,” hesays firmly when I begin to shake. “Watch me, little crow. You’re not there anymore.”
He washes me, his strokes firm and gentle as he runs the cloth over my filthy skin while I lean against him. When I reach up to touch my matted hair, he only picks up a jug from the side. Slowly, I relax into him, into the feel of his hands scrubbing my aching scalp. The water around us turns brown with filth, and he empties the water, refilling it twice before he stands.
My arms wrap around his neck, my face buried in his skin as he carries me back out, wrapping a towel around my bare back. My legs cling to his waist, my shoulder and rib burning. Everywhere hurts.
He runs his hand over the back of my head. “I’m going to put you down so I can change. I’ll get you something to wear.”
I hold myself together, focusing on the pain that flares with every breath as I perch on the bed. He changes in front of me, not bothering with privacy as he yanks on dry sweatpants from the old leather trunk at the bottom of the bed. My arms are guided into a clean, faded white shirt, Luc kneeling in front of me to do the buttons up, threading them through the small holes one by one.
I let him. Let him turn my face towards the light, let him deftly apply the sutures to the cuts in my face, his lips pressed together. Let him give me water, tipping my head back as I swallow small sips that soothe the tightness in my throat.
He tries to persuade me into the bed as he sits beside me, but I shake my head. Instead, I crawl into his lap again, let his arms wrap around me as he shifts backward, settling against the headboard. He pulls blankets up and over us, wrapping them around me until the last of the cold chases from my limbs. His hands stroke through my damp hair. “We should go back,” he says softly. “I left my phone – there. Dante was searching too.”
A sliver of guilt runs through me. “Tomorrow. Just… not tonight.”
I am barely holding myself together here, in this safe, quiet space.
He smooths the hair away from my face, fingers trailing across and down my neck. “Whatever you want, little crow.”
***
When I wake, warm and safe andalive,curled up in the little double bed in the little white building that now feels like it’s ours, Luc is still asleep.
I lie there, watching his face, so close to mine. He looks exhausted, the dirt still there in faded patches on his face. His hands are entangled with mine, still holding onto me.
Keeping me together, as he did last night when I was close to broken. Or maybe I had already broken, and he fixed me. Carefully putting the shattered pieces of me back, like jigsaw pieces slotting into place.
But the morning light shines through the ceiling window, and we don’t have the luxury of ignoring the outside world any longer than we already have, in those stolen hours between us.
I carefully pull my fingers from under his. Then I stop, taking in his hands.
The broken, scabbed skin. And his nails – he barely has any left. The damage to his hands, to his strong, sure hands—
My breath catches.
Luciano Morelli saved my life last night. He dug me out of that grave with his bare hands, when I had given up. And he will have the scars to prove it.
I ease my way out of the bed, testing the limits of my body. The pain, I can manage, even though it makes my stomach flip withnausea. It hurts every time I take a breath, a physical reminder of my broken ribs.
But they will heal.
Luc wakes as I’m digging around in the chest at the end of the bed. “Caterina.”
I glance up at the rough sound of his voice. His expression is a mix of concern and trepidation. “I have to get back.”
The dons are coming today, and I am in no fit state to do battle against my father, or Matteo. But I have to be ready. The consequences of my decisions are waiting for me.
And the fallout, as I return from the dead.
He sits up, the blankets falling away to reveal a swathe of golden skin. “I know. But I wish you’d stay.”
Something has changed between us in these hours. Or maybe we gained something back. Something I thought we’d lost a long time ago.
