She goes back to staring out the window until we pull up outside the hospital and then I help her out. Her steps are unsteady and I wrap an arm around her waist as we walk inside.
“Do you want to sit down for a moment?” I ask, slowing us to a stop. “You don’t have to go up if you don’t want to. I can take you home. Whatever you want.”
She shakes her head. “I need to see him.”
“Very well.” I nod.
I walk with her until we reach the floor her father is on and then I stop. Her father’s bodyguards are outside of his room so she’ll be well looked after. She turns to look at me as I pull to a stop.
“You’re not coming with me?” she asks uncertainly.
I shake my head. “I’ll give you some space to be with him,” I say. “To say your goodbyes.”
“What if I don’t come back to you? What will you do then?” she asks.
I reach out, placing my fingers on the bottom of her chin and tilt her face up to look me in the eye. “You’re not my prisoner, Natalia.”
“Am I not?” she asks, her tone almost conflicted.
There’s fire in her eyes and I lean down and press my lips to hers. She doesn’t pull away and I don’t give anything further than a brief touch of contact before pulling away.
“You have never been my prisoner, though I won’t deny the thought of you being tied up and at my mercy is somewhat thrilling.” I release her chin, sliding my hands into my suit pockets. “I’ll be downstairs when you’re ready.”
Her eyes fill with unshed tears and she nods before walking away, her footsteps still unsteady.
I feel like a piece of shit leaving her to deal with this on her own, but I know she’s strong enough to. And I know she needs to come to terms with his loss by herself. Outside the room are a couple of Frank’s security guys. She hugs them when she reaches them and the sight of their hands on her make me bristle. She goes inside Franks room and I hear the first soft sob leave her throat before the door is closed behind her. Turning, I head back the way we just came, intending on waiting in the limousine for her. Back downstairs I see Angelo stood by the entrance waiting for us and I head in his direction.
He notes that Natalia isn’t with me and raises an eyebrow in question.
“She needs time to come to terms with her loss,” I say by way of explanation. By his expression I guess that he also thought Natalia was my prisoner and is surprised that I let her out of my sight. “Does she drink coffee?” I ask.
He pulls out his cell and phones the house to ask the housekeeper. Moments later he slides his cell back into his jacket.
“Coffee, one sugar, plenty of milk,” he replies. “There’s a Starbucks a block from here. Should I go and get it for her?”
I shake my head. “No, I’ll go. You stand guard, I don’t trust the Rosso’s not to show their faces.”
He raises an eyebrow at that too, but I ignore him and head back out into the bright day. The Starbucks is as Angelo said, only a short block away, and the walk does me good. It clears my head. I make a brief call to Sisco to check on the Russian deal, happy enough when he tells me that everything is going as planned.
“Where are you?” he asks suddenly.
I’ve just slipped out of Starbucks, coffee in hand, as I walk back to the hospital. “I’m going back for her now,” I state.
“Are you walking, brother? Why are you walking?” he sounds bemused.
“The hospital has many ears,” I reply sharply.
Sisco chuckles. “Did you just go to a Starbucks?” he says with another chuckle and I give a heavy sigh.
“What the fuck have I told you about tracking my phone, brother?” I snap, but he’s not listening anymore. He’s called Joey over and is informing him of the situation. Apparently, they think I’m pussy-whipped. It would be insulting if I wasn’t inclined to agree with them. Not that I would ever admit to that. Joey, from the bark of laughter that echoes through the phone, also thinks it’s highly amusing that I’ve just walked to Starbucks instead of having Angelo go for me.
I hang up without further reply.
I momentarily doubt my decision to fetch Natalia coffee, wondering what the fuck I’m doing. But that’s what normal people do in these situations, right? Get coffee, or tea, and then sit and mourn the loss of their loved ones. That’s what should happen. Only it’s never been like that for me. It’s always been blood and death following more blood and death. It’s never-ending, the flow of it through our family.
I need it to end.
I need it to be over with.
