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Tasha’s in my arms. At some point last night, she cried out in her sleep again. Nightmares. This one about her mother and brother, her heartache ripped open again from a scar that never healed.
Two for one.
Fucking Don Scalera. That shit ends today.
She stirs and I slip my arm free, then press a soft kiss to her forehead. It’s late and I need to get going. “Tasha.”
“Hmm?” She rolls into me again and I smile.
“I’ve got to go, kitten.” I stroke her back and squeeze her butt, knowing if I don’t get out of bed now, I’m going to spend the whole day here with her. I’ve made up my mind and putting this off would only lead to a fuck-up I can’t afford.
“Where’re you going?” she asks, sleepy.
“To see the Don.”
At these words she slumps onto her back and covers her face with her hands. “God, did I… did I have a nightmare again last night?”
“Yes.” I ease her hands away from her face, making her look at me. “It’s okay, you were with me. I had you.” I know how this works, how long it takes. I can’t sleep with a loaded gun next to my bed anymore, in case my own nightmares come and I shoot my wife by accident.
“Okay.”
“Can you please stay put until I get home?” I ask nicely. Maybe it will work.
“Are you going to be long?”
“I’m not sure.” I get up and fetch her things from my laptop bag. Two cans of sardines stare at me. It’s going to be a fun day. “Here, be careful how you respond to any messages. Maybe think it over first. Take a day or two before you do.”
She eyes her tablet, laptop, and phone, then smiles. “The ultimate sign of trust. Scalera style.”
“Yep. Here, let me connect you to the WiFi.”
Once it’s done, I leave her to shower and when I come out to dress, she’s just staring at the ceiling, all her options to connect to the outside world discarded.
“You’re not doomscrolling?” I tease as I start to dress. I pick my suit with care, her eyes on me with every choice I make.
“I’ve been so long without any of it that I’ve lost interest.”
I know that feeling. How dumb and meaningless everything becomes when you’ve been living from one near-death experience to the next. When you need to get your head around your new reality and the world out there seems so insignificant. I pick up the gun and load the bullets again, then put the holster on. “Give it time.”
“Can I call you?” she asks when I’m dressed. “When… when?—”
“You can always call me, kitten. Even if it’s just to tell me the puppy’s chewed my favorite slipper.”
She smiles; it’s small but it’s there. “You’re not the type to have slippers.”
I smirk. True that. “Clearly we have some shopping to do.” I pick her phone up and add my number to her contacts. “There. Under H for husband.” I wanted to make it HH, for Hated Husband, but after last night there might be hope for us. Today I’m tying up all my own loose ends. As long as Don Scalera and what he did hangs over us, we won’t be able to move on. I lean in and kiss her on the forehead. “See you later, kitten.”
It breaks me to leave her here, alone, but something shifted between us last night. She’ll stay put today.
I fish my two sardine cans out of my laptop bag. I hope the Don likes my idea of evidence.
60
MATTEO
As I enter the Don’s compound, I know this will be the last time I ever set foot here. I get out of the car and with a raised hand show Stan that I’ll go in alone. A bodyguard opens for me, but instead of going directly to the Don’s office, I go to the kitchen, where I get a plate and some cutlery. Wine would be nice but it’s a bit early in the day for the old man.
I make my way to the office, nodding at the guards along the way. We won’t be disturbed. Not for this. The Don is waiting for me in his office as I made an appointment. I knock, then walk inside.
