Tears fill Sloane’s eyes as she brushes hair off his brow. “You are the sweetest, kindest little boy.”
“It’s okay, Sloane.” He gently pats her stomach. “Daddy’ll get you medicine to make you better. Won’t you, Daddy?”
“I will do my best to help Sloane feel better. I promise.”
“See.” Elio beams at her, planting his hands on his hips. “You’ll be all better when I get home.”
Sloane climbs to her feet. “Of course, I will. Have an amazing time, my little prince. I can’t wait to hear all about it.”
30
SLOANE
I’m lying on the couch in my pajamas, huddled under my comforter, with my head on a pillow, attempting to watch the frivolous reality show playing on the TV screen, but my mind can’t focus. Too many thoughts are terrorizing my brain. Images of last night have been playing on a loop in my head, and inside I’m screaming and clawing at my body, wishing I could eradicate every horrific touch, every haunting memory.
As if that’s not enough to give me nightmares for years, Pablo sent a photo of Mom this morning. She was curled in a ball on a dirty floor, her body so badly beaten I could barely see any pale skin through the multitude of bruising and discoloration. I’m so scared, and I’ve never felt so alone. The urge to reach out to Rory is hitting me hard again. My bestie would know what to do, but I’ve already placed enough people in harm’s way.
Noise in the hallway cuts through my thoughts, and my heart speeds up as footsteps approach.
“It’s just me,” Cristian calls out, saving me from a full-blown coronary.
Before, I would’ve said no one can get to me here. But that pic sent to my cartel cell Saturday night has freaked me out. Pablo’s contact is real, and he’sclose. For all I know, he could be one of Cristian’s trusted men, meaning I’m not as safe here as I thought I was.
“Hey.” Cristian’s deep voice softens at the edges when he materializes in front of me. Crouching down, he gently brushes hair out of my eyes. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay.”
“No, I don’t think you are.”
Tears prick my eyes, and I silently plead with him to drop this. I have never wanted to tell someone something so badly before, but I can’t risk it. Mom already looks like she’s on death’s door. I don’t know if Pablo’s contact has access to Cristian’s high-tech cameras and audio so everything I do and say is monitored, and I have no choice but to play it safe. That sobering thought dries the tears waiting to fall. “Like I said before, being around you, your family, your friends, reminds me of all I’ve lost. Don’t get me wrong, I love you have that, but it only highlights how alone I am in the world.” There is no lie in what I’ve just said, but it’s a deception all the same. However, I need to give him a reason for my current sorry state so he’ll let go of last night.
Cristian kneels before me, taking one of my hands and bringing it to his lips. “You have people who care about you, Sloane. You have me, Elio, my parents, my friends. You’re not alone. Not anymore.”
I can’t speak over the massive lump wedged in my throat. I know he means that, and I wish it could be true, but no one will want anything to do with me when they discover the depths of my betrayal.
“Don’t cry. Please.” Cristian climbs onto the couch and repositions us so my head is resting on his muscular thigh. His fingers weave tenderly through my hair. “Natalia is coming over soon. She’s going to check us out. Ensure our injuries aren’t serious.” His piercing green eyes skim over my face. “You can trust her completely. Doctor-patient confidentiality means she can’t discuss anything you say. If you need to unburden anything, unburden it to her.”
She’s not my official doctor, so I’m not sure how true that is. Either way, I won’t be unburdening anything because I can’t. “Is that why you came home? I thought you were going straight to the office after dropping Elio off.”
“I’m going to work here today in case you need anything. I also have more of Mama’s chicken broth if you can stomach it.”
“I would love some.”
He leans down and kisses my brow. “Stay here and I’ll heat some up for you.”
Pulling myself upright, I watch Cristian walk out of the room, admiring how good he looks in a charcoal-gray suit. He’s worried about me; that much is obvious. How amazing would it be if this was all real? If he was mine? I’ve only had a tiny taste of what it’d be like, and I’m already falling hard for him and his son. How incredible would it be if his family was mine? If I was truly a part of his circle. Pain presses down on my chest at the thought. It’s foolish because it won’t ever be my reality, and I feel so disloyal to my mother even thinking it.
Cristian returns a few minutes later, carrying a tray with a bowl, a glass, and a bouquet of colorful flowers. My eyes widen as he sets it down on the coffee table before swiping the flowers and handing them to me. “I thought these might help cheer you up.”
I want to cry. No, drop to this man’s feet and worship the ground he walks on. “I love them. Thank you,” I croak before burying my nose in the pretty petals and inhaling the delicate scent.
“I’ll put them in water while you eat.”
I hand the flowers back, and he leaves the room again. I gobble down the broth, and it helps to settle my stomach a little. Cristian returns, holding a thick crystal vase with my flowers. He puts them down on the coffee table and stays with me until I’ve drunk every morsel of broth and drained my glass of water. Then he wraps his arms around me and holds me close. I sink into his comforting warmth, and for a few fleeting moments, everything feels right with the world.
Cristian goes to his home office to work while I doze on the couch until Dr. Natalia Messina arrives. Caleb and Joshua’s mother is a stunning woman in her late forties or early fifties. Glossy dark hair tumbles in waves over her shoulders, and her broad smile is warm and friendly. Cristian introduces us before stripping out of his shirt and taking a seat while she removes the bandage wrapped around his upper arm and examines his injury. “You did a good job cleaning and treating the wound, Sloane,” she says, smiling over her shoulder at me.
My cheeks heat at being caught ogling Cristian’s impressive chest. His toned abs and all the ink covering his skin are so freaking hot. I’ve never been more tempted to lick any man. Cristian’s eyes darken with obvious pleasure as he stares at me. His lips twitch, and I think he likes knowing I was checking him out.
