That’s right, he helped me after I pointed a gun at him.
“Dolcezza,” he says softly, his long strides closing the distance between us in a few steps. He sits on an armchair that seems to have been placed on the side of the bed specifically for this moment. Or has he been sitting here when I was sleeping?
I offer a faint smile in response.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
He extends a hand to brush a stray lock of hair from my face. The gesture is so intimate and tender that it sends a weird zap of electricity down my spine. I straighten my posture, and immediately regret it as pain flares in my shoulder.
“Ouch, did I get shot?” I whisper as my throat burns.
He seems to notice and reaches for the pitcher on the nightstand and pours water into a glass beside it. When I raise my arm to take it, he shakes his head slightly and holds the glass near my mouth so I can drink. He tips it over slightly as I finish the whole glass.God, I was thirsty.
“Want more?” he asks, and I notice his accent is thicker than usual. I shake my head and lean back against the headboard, feeling dizzy.
“You didn’t get shot,” he says, setting the glass down. “You dislocated your shoulder.”
I wince, as if hearing the diagnosis makes the pain real.
“I’ve never dislocated anything before,” I whisper mindlessly.
“How did you do it?” he asks. I swallow the lump in my throat and nod as I remember.
“To get out of the zip ties,” I answer.
When I look at him, his face is unreadable, but his eyes are soft.Familiar. And somehow, having him here makes the panic I felt earlier recede. I close my eyes and lean my cheek into his large palm when he reaches for my face.
“I’m sorry about Mateo.” His words hang in the air for a long second. I swallow the lump in my throat as I remember the gaping hole in my chest from the death of my brother. Damiano wipes my tears with his thumb.
“I have no one now. No family left.” I look at him when I say.
The pain is unbearable, and it feels like I am drowning. I close my eyes, and I see Mateo’s body jerking back as the bullet hits him. I hear his last breath. Suddenly, my breathing becomes labored, and my hands start to shake.
“Where is he?” I ask, my voice trembling. “His body?”
“We didn’t find his body. Someone cleaned it before your brother’s men got there.”
God, I don’t even get to bury him. Where could he be? Probably dumped in the middle of nowhere. I can’t control the pain in my chest, and before I knew it, I was having a panic attack in front of Damiano.
“Kat, look at me.” Damiano’s voice starts to sound like he’s so far away.
I can’t breathe.My chest feels like it turned into a rock, and I start to hyperventilate.
Suddenly, warmth crashes against my lips, and everything stops.
Damiano is kissing me.His lips engulf mine, and his tongue brushes mine gently. I whimper when I inhale through my nose, my breathing leveling out.
When he breaks away, he stares into my eyes as if searching for something before kissing me again. This time, he deepens the kiss, and the pain in my chest alleviates as my mind focuses on kissing him back. I feel tears fall down my temples as I squeeze my eyes shut, but Damiano wipes them away with his thumbs.
“Don’t disappear on me like that,Dolcezza. Look at me.” He whispers, his warm breath brushing my swollen lips. He examines my face while his thumb continues to wipe away tears that escape my eyes.
“What am I going to do?” I ask, hoping he has answers. But he shakes his head and keeps scanning my worried face.
“Just hold onto me.” He says before pressing another kiss on my lips, then my cheeks, and down my neck. He pulls me in, rubbing my back, and I melt into the warmth of his embrace. We stay like that for a while.
“Don’t be afraid. I’m here. You have me.”
I look up at him and trace the shadow of stubble on his jaw.
