I smile at that, just a little. “If you change your mind about staying there, that would be okay.”
He squeezes my hand. “Luca—it’smyjob too, you know. Protectingyou.”
“Me?” I snort. “I don’t need protection.” Finch’s face goes dark, and I preempt him. “You think my being here, alive, is anythingbutproof that I don’t need protection? Who else could get shot as many times as me and live through it? The devil knows his own. Men like me, we already have infernal protections in place.”
Finch just shakes his head, refusing to share my cocky smile. “I’m going to speak to Darla, ask her if she’ll come with us. And I’ll find out when they’ll release you. I don’t want to stay in here a second longer than we have to.”
“Okay.”
He pulls his hand out of mine and turns to go. Halfway across the room he looks back at me. “I’m serious, Luca. You need to stop smothering me and start looking out for yourself more. If you don’t…”
The look crossing his face is hard to read. Pain, fear, confusion? I dread to think what it might mean. “If I don’t?” I ask, trying to keep my voice light. Or if not light, at least neutral.
I suspect it simply sounds hostile, because Finch turns away.
“I’ll go talk to Darla,” he says over his shoulder.
The door closes behind him.
Chapter Twenty-Two
FINCH
In the end, we don’t even make it to the next morning in the hospital. We sneak out in the middle of the night likecriminals, or something. I don’t mind. I want to get out of the hospital as soon as we can, and Luca wanted to go under cover of dark, to make it harder for our enemies to track us.
There’s some discussion of how to get Luca from the car into the house, since he can’t walk yet. He won’t let anyone carry him, and when Teo Vitali suggests putting a wooden ramp over the stairs at the front to wheel a chair up, you can imagine how fucking wellthatgoes down. In the end, Luca consents to Frank helping him limp up the steps, watchers be damned.
Frank, who has insisted on staying here in the brownstone with us while we’re still in New York, takes his brother up the steps faster than he should have in my opinion, though not as fast as he should in Luca’s, so by the time we get into the house, there are a lot of sore feelings going around. Teo checks in with Gio Carlucci, who’s been hovering in the background like staff, despite being one of the current residents of the place. Frank puts Luca on the sofa and looks around his old house with fond, nostalgic eyes, and then Hudson sweeps into the room like the absolute angel he is, with artisan hot chocolate for everyone.
For a second, I see Frank and Luca thinking they’re too tough for hot chocolate. I legit see the thought chugging through Luca’s brain and into Frank’s like a little steam-engine train, but as soon Hudson presses a mug into their hands and they smell it, they sit there silently and drink it up like good little boys.
I walk after Hudson when he moves to put the tray down on a side table, where I take my mug from the tray. “Nice work,” I murmur to him, and he gives me his familiar, anxious smile. Hudson never seems to look at me fully, always shooting glances or side-eyes. I have no idea why I make him so nervous.
“Thank you, Mr. D.”
“Luca,” I say, going over to him, “you need to take your meds.” Darla gave me a bunch of antibiotics and heavy-duty painkillers to give to Luca before she joins us.
Luca takes the antibiotics without comment and leaves the painkillers. We have a silent argument between us, which I think is noticed by the others because of the nervous chatter that breaks out. In the end, I let it go. For now.
“I’ve made up the main bedroom for your use tonight,” Hudson tells us. “Mr. Frank is just down the hallway in the spare room if you need him overnight. And Gio and I will sleep down here on the sofa bed.”
I turn my shoulders so Luca won’t see the face I make. “I don’t know if he’ll be able to get up the stairs,” I say softly.
“I most certainly will.” Luca’s sharp interruption cracks like a whip.
Hudson attempts to calm the waters. “Gio wanted to stay down here in case there was any trouble,” he says. “And the panic room is in the master bedroom.”
Teo went what Luca called “crazy” with installing safe rooms and panic rooms after the Boston attack on my sister. We even contemplated getting one in the townhouse, down off the kitchen area—and if we had, maybe Luca wouldn’t have been hurt so badly.
“Alright,” I say. “We’ll take the master.” I raise an eyebrow at Frank, who gives me a little nod, anI’ve got it. Luca’s head snaps around to stare at us as though we’re planning treachery right under his nose. “Well, when we finish these drinks,” I say quickly, “let’s get some sleep.”
Luca does make it slowly up to the second floor with Frank’s help. Once we get into bed and I am, for the first time in many days, lying right next to my husband, my hand in his, I feel better than I have for a long time.
“I was so scared,” I say into the dark. We’re both lying on our backs, close together but not snuggled up, for fear I might hurt him.
“I’m sorry,” Luca says, and the gentle, regretful tone in his voice is exactly how he used to sound. But then he ruins it all by adding, “I’ll protect you better from now on, baby bird.”
* * *
