Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
I should have objected, said I could get my own clothes.
But I didn’t want to say that.
I didn’t want to be strong right then.
I didn’t want to take care of myself either.
I’d been strong and taken care of myself for so long.
It felt good to offer that over to someone who wanted to handle it for me, who would do it gladly.
“Come on, Josie, let’s go home.”
I couldn’t even begin to explain the completely irrational thought that moved through my mind right then.
Once I get into his home, I am never going to leave again.
I couldn’t tell, either, if that was a threat… or a promise.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Matteo
It took a lot of fucking effort to keep my rage under control.
At first, before I made it to the hospital, it had been more manageable, thinking maybe Josie had just gotten knocked down and scared. Which was bad enough and inexcusable.
But then when I got to the emergency room and saw how beaten she was? Fuck. I wanted to turn right around, get to work, check my cameras, see the faces, figure out who they were, and show them what it was like to be on the receiving end of a beating like that. Before taking them out entirely.
I wasn’t an overly violent man.
I’d scuffled a lot as a kid. But that was mostly because other kids liked to talk shit, and I felt the need to put them in their place. Because that had been drilled into us as kids—how important respect was. Especially in our circle. I took it upon myself to teach those kids some fucking respect.
But the older I got, and the more I saw that my position in the Family would be a little less grand than I figured as an idealistic kid, I let the slights go.
I didn’t remember the last time I’d needed to put my hands on someone.
But I wanted to then.
The only thing keeping me from doing it was the fact that Josie was so small and so scared and in desperate need of someone to take care of her.
I wanted to be that someone.
A part of me wanted to claim it was out of sheer guilt. And, admittedly, I did feel really fucking guilty about it. But I knew it was more than that. I wanted to spend more time with her. I wanted to take care of her.
I wasn’t going to overthink it.
I was just going to do it.
When the detective showed up to talk to Josie, I popped out to get the ice pack, but also to call my brother, to tell him that the banquet hall had been broken into, that Josie had been attacked.
I knew even as I sat with Josie waiting for her discharge that the wheels were all in motion. Within minutes of the call ending, Luca would have had men stationed not only at the barn banquet hall, but the others as well. Luca himself would be at the site of the attack with my father since they were both partial owners and I couldn’t be there. They would deal with the police and then do their own investigation.
Someone had likely already called in our security contacts to get them to all our business locations to double down on cameras and locks.
The Family would have all of that covered.
Which gave me the freedom to take care of Josie without worrying about things getting done.
She was almost painfully silent on the ride from the hospital and back to my place.
There were cars in the drive that had her stiffening.
“I should have warned you,” I said, reaching over to rest a hand on her leg. “There are going to be some of my Family here. To act as guards,” I told her, giving her thigh a squeeze. “To keep you safe,” I added as I saw a shadow looking out the front windows.
“Okay,” she said, nodding.
“Okay,” I agreed, getting out and rushing around the car to help her out.
It was slow progress up to the front door. Bruised ribs made all movements hurt.
When we got inside, it was Milo who was in the living room. And as soon as his gaze landed on Josie, he let out a string of curses that would have his mother whacking him on the back of the head. But they were warranted.
“Honey,” he said, shaking his head.
“I’m okay.”
“No, you’re not,” Massimo said, appearing from the kitchen. Unlike Milo, Mass had a much better mask. Whatever he was thinking or feeling was completely hidden from us. And, I think, that was maybe good for Josie. “But you’ll be alright,” he said. “Coffee?” he asked.
“I, ah, yeah. That would be good.”
“Do you need meds filled?” Milo asked.
“She has enough for the night. I’ll have a list of errands for the morning, though,” I told Milo.