The Holy Ghost - M.E. Clayton Page 0,14
all these years.
When the doors opened, I saw nothing but more Benetti sentinels, and I was momentarily relieved that I had more time before facing Ciro and Phoenix. As Luca led me out of the elevator, I realized how egotistical I was being. It’s been six years. Surely, Phoenix wasn’t still pining over me. There’s no way he hasn’t moved on to someone else. Men like my brother, Luca, and Phoenix weren’t meant to suppress their masculinity. And there wasn’t a shortage of women willing to do whatever it took to be with one, two, or all three of them.
No one showed any surprise as we walked past, but then they shouldn’t. Benetti men were trained to always be in control. If they were surprised to see us, they were doing their best to hide it. Especially, in front of Luca. I also noticed that the hallways were devoid of visitors and noise. This floor was private and secluded.
We stopped in front of room 1478, and I reached for the door handle, but suddenly the reason I was here hit me at full force. Massimo was dying, and I was here to say goodbye. My hand froze and I had to steady myself before walking into his room.
The world was going to weep with his passing.
Luca’s breath tickled my ear as he leaned down and said, “He’s waiting for you, Francesca.” His lips touched the side of my head. “It’s going to be okay.”
I let out a shaky breath but wrapped my hand around the handle and pushed the door open. I walked inside and was surprised that Luca hadn’t followed me inside. However, my thoughts immediately shifted towards Massimo as I watched his head turn to see who was visiting him.
His face lit up and I felt worse than I already had. “Little Frankie Mancini,” he cooed. “My beautiful, beautiful girl.” His arms opened and I ran into them.
He didn’t care that I was practically across the hospital bed and neither did I. He didn’t care that I almost knocked everything askew and neither did I. He didn’t care that I was soaking his hospital gown with my tears and neither did I.
All that mattered was that I was here, and I hadn’t been too late.
When I finally pulled back, Massimo was all smiled and shiny eyes and I had to reach over and pluck some tissue from his necessity tray. He chuckled as I cleaned myself up, but he was kind enough to give me time to compose myself.
Once I was cleaned up, he asked, “How have you been, Francesca?”
“Selfish,” I automatically replied. “Completely selfish, Massimo.”
His head fell to the side and his face softened with my regret. “Don’t do that, dear. Don’t ever feel bad for going out to live your life.”
I shook my head. “I didn’t go out to live my life,” I corrected him. “I left because I was hurt and pissed off at the guys. And, in that rage, I let myself forget about everyone else. I was so angry and so wrapped up in my own misery, I forgot about everyone else who loved me.” My eyes teared up again. “I’m so sorry, Massimo. I’m so sorry for not keeping in touch.”
Massimo reached out and patted my knee. I was sitting on his bed, not eager to move at all. “Well, why don’t you do this old man a favor and tell me all about what you’ve up to? I’d rather hear about this new life you carved out for yourself, Frankie, than listen to regret that doesn’t do anybody any good.”
I smiled because that was so like Massimo. He forgave us all our mistakes. He always looked towards the positive and did his best to steer us away from the negative. “I’d like that,” I told him. “I’d like that a lot.”
Massimo sat up straighter and adjusted his hospital bed to accommodate the both of us. As soon as I was nestled up against him, like a father comforting his broken child, I started telling him everything. Even though I didn’t tell him the details of what I saw that night at the warehouse, I told him how I ran and how my life came to exist in Cedar Creek. I told him about Robbie, Mona, and Brighton. I told him how I dropped out of college, but I was relatively happy with my life. And, the entire time, he just listened. He listened as if he truly cared about my life;