I was finally able to get her head against my chest, but I was so fucking pissed at what she’d done. It was hard to settle on one emotion. She put her body between two blood-thirsty beasts.
My wife.
My wife—coming to my fucking rescue.
I pulled her to me even harder, feeling the strain on my ribs where he’d landed a blow. “Don’t you fucking dare ever come between me and him again, do you understand me?”
“I will!” she said, defiance making her tone bitter. “I felt every one of those blows like he was hitting me. He was going to rip your ear off! No.” She shook her head. “You’re mine! Do you hearme?” She sobbed even harder, her face buried in my shirt, her knuckles straining from holding on to me so tightly.
“Yeah. I hear you. Stop crying. You’re killing me. Bleeding me dry.”
All this stress couldn’t be good for her or the baby. If something were to happen to my wife or my son—I killed the thought before it could take over, refusing to surrender to it.
I reminded her of this, and she tried to take slow, deep breaths, finally getting herself under control.
She worried me, though.
Her hands came to her stomach, and when I asked her what was wrong, she said crying had made her tired.
A fucking partial truth.
Picking her up, I went to bring her into the bedroom, to call Tito to come over and check on her.
She refused with vehemence that took me by surprise, pointing to the kitchen.
“I’m fine.” She sniffed. “I don’t want to wake him for no reason. He’s getting older, Brando. Butyou’regoing to need ice.” She pointed toward the kitchen again.
There was enough around this place to pack my entire body in.
“I’m fine,” I returned her words.
We were both telling partial truths to save our souls that night.
It wasn’t the physical pain that bothered me. It was her words, the truth she’d spoken to my father that I’d never heard come from my own mouth but out of hers.
29
Brando
Ever since Luca’s visit on Christmas a couple of nights ago, I hadn’t been getting much sleep. I was worried about my wife. If all the restless nights hadn’t caught up to me, I would’ve felt her absence sooner.
When the bed turned cold, I knew she wasn’t in it.
Even during the hottest month of the year, if she was gone from my side, I felt something that I rarely did. Chilled to the bone. Scarlett was so light on her feet that sometimes she moved like a soft breeze.
She couldn’t have been gone long. Her subtle rose lotion was still strong in the air, and something spicier, toothpaste and mouthwash. No matter what else changed in our lives, one thing always stayed the same: her fanatical ways when it came to dental hygiene. She had Mia with a toothbrush in her mouth as soon as possible.
Taking a deep breath, letting it out slowly, I forced my eyes to fully open. I’d kicked off the sheet and was naked. My skin was chilled from cold, but my balls were a heavy, warm weight against my leg, and my cock stood stiff enough to hurt.
Wanting, wanting, always wanting her.
After quickly making the necessary trip to the bathroom, I threw on a pair of sweatpants and a thermal shirt, going to look for Scarlett in Mia’s room.
All was quiet there, except for the constant drone of Eunice’s snore.
I smelled it in the hallway, which had me turning directions.
The yeasty scent of raw dough, and then the richer scent of bread being baked, drifted in the air. Low music grew louder the closer I came to the kitchen, and the lower voices of multiple people chatting became clearer.
