At how much love we’ve built up between us in just a few months.
He comes deep inside me and I like to imagine it filling me up, splashing around inside me like a goddamn tsunami, and he collapses on top of me, gasping for air. I keep laughing while I lie there catching my own breath, until he finally grumbles, “You know, all this laughing could worry a man.”
“Ew,” I say in response. “You fucked me in a puddle of my own cum.”
“Sucks to be you.” He pulls out, wincing.
“You’re all heart. Get off me, I need to go clean up.”
“Love you,” he calls after me.
“Love you, too.”
When I get back to the bed, he’s spread-eagled across it, snoring loudly. I don’t have the heart to wake him, so I cuddle up as best I can, my body at weird angles around his, and around the wet patch.
* * *
I could killLuca myself when I wake up with a crick in my neck and find him gone. We’ll be having words about that kind of sneaking-out behavior when the bastard gets back.
Ifhe gets back.
Fear churns up my gut, so I go take care of business and shower, and then decide the best thing to do is something good, while I can. So I decide I’ll visit Connie and my unborn sister at the hospital.
Iloathehospitals. So I feel like I’m doing somethingextragood by showing up in one.
The staff knows me by now, and I receive smiles and waves as I make my way to Connie’s private room. Even my Marco Shadow gets a greeting from the staff these days. Luca and I are the ones paying for Connie’s care, but I also pay for a lunch spread for staff in the ward every week, and send them champagne, chocolates and gift cards on the regular.
I want Connie to get thebestcare, and I’m not above bribery.
My feet slow as I come around the corner and see Connie’s brother, Hudson, slumped in one of the seats against the wall opposite her room. He’s fast asleep. Two Morelli soldiers who are guarding Connie’s room just stand there ignoring him. They pull themselves into alertness as I approach, nodding and muttering my name in greeting,Mr. D’Amato.
I stop by Hudson’s seat. He’s dead asleep, mouth slack. It’s hard to tell night from day in hospitals—just another reason I hate them. The internal clock gets all out of whack.
I kick his outstretched leg and he jerks awake.
“Comfy?” I ask.
He gives me a mutinous glare, jaw clenching. He’s a few years younger than me. Young enough to still burn with a passion for justice. Or to put it another way, life hasn’t kicked the optimism out of him yet.
“I wanna see my sister,” he says, voice hoarse with sleep.
“Why?”
He gets up then, tall and spindly, sandy hair long and flopping forward into his eyes until he pushes it back. “She’s mysister, and she’s in acoma. Why the hell do you think I want to see her?”
“I have no idea,” I say truthfully. “If I were in a coma, I don’t think my darling sisters would rock up to weep by my bedside. The only reason they’d come would be to smother me with a pillow.”
“Then you got some shitty sisters with no sense of family ties,” he growls. One of our guards takes a step towards him, but I wave him off, grinning.
“You know, that’s exactly what I think,” I tell Hudson. He looks me up and down, uncertain. “I spoke with my husband. He agreed to let you see Connie. So go wash your fucking face and brush your hair. And ask at reception if they’ll give you some toothpaste, man. Your breath stinks.” He stands there staring at me until I spread my hands. “Well? Go. Then get your ass back here.”
He backs away for a few steps before he turns and runs down the hallway, almost taking out Celia D’Amato as she comes around the corner.
“Where’s he going in such a hurry?” she asks. “You finally get rid of him?”
“Uh. So, Luca and I were talking—” I begin, but she reads my apologetic face before I even have to say it.
“No. Absolutely not!” she whisper-shouts, like the heavies at the door can’t hear her.
