I had immediately fallen asleep from all the physical and emotional turmoil I was suffering. When I had awoken, Luca and Frankie had been sitting in Ciro’s living room chatting it up like old friends.
It had been so mind-boggling to see Luca freakin’ Benetti so relaxed and relatable, I had stared like a nutjob for a few minutes before he called me out. He had known I was standing in the hallway observing, but he had wanted to give me some time to acclimate to their company.
After that, he had cooked breakfast for us-
Seriously.
Luca freakin’ Benetti had cooked breakfast for me and Frankie, and the man probably didn’t think I had one iota of sense in my brain as I kept getting starstruck at his presence.
I also noticed how his demeanor changed as soon as he gave me permission to make my presence known. He wasn’t cold or cruel, by any means, but he wasn’t as open and comfortable as I’d witness briefly when he thought it was just him and Frankie.
I was beginning to see that Luca and Frankie did, indeed, have a special friendship.
An hour after breakfast, Phoenix had shown up at Ciro’s and the entire setup had my mind reeling. Last week, I was a simple waitress in a small town living in a broken down, but clean house. Tonight, I was sitting in the living room of Ciro Mancini while The Holy Ghost and The Father of Morgan City were keeping me company.
What in the actual hell?
Then there was the whole ‘I love you’ debacle I had to deal with whenever Ciro came home.
Home.
Jesus Christ.
Alert from a full night’s rest and being fed, my mind replayed everything that was said to me before we left my house, and I was still finding it difficult to believe that Ciro was in love with me and had plans of never letting me return to Cedar Creek.
I had scoffed at the notion that it was impossible to be in love with me after everything and in such a short time, but I remembered his own accusation that I must love him too or else I never would have slept with him.
And he was right.
People tell you love at first sight isn’t real, and for me and Ciro it was more like hate at first sight, but I couldn’t deny the pull the man had on me. Even if I didn’t want to label it love, whatever it was, it was enough to make me lose all sense of right and wrong when he was near.
Six months ago, if anyone would have told me that I’d be holed up in Ciro Mancini’s apartment while he was torturing two people, I would have laughed. I would have sworn I would never let that happen and I would call the police like a good law-abiding citizen.
Now look at me.
I was hanging out with the most dangerous people I’ve ever known to exist like it was Yahtzee night and it was my turn to host.
It was still quite early, and in fear of Phoenix doing exactly as the threatened, I told the group I was going to take a shower. I was still sore, and even after taking my pain medication with breakfast, a hot shower couldn’t hurt.
Frankie had offered to help me, but it was sad to say, I was already a pro at this. Like last time, I’ll remove the tape from my ribs, cover my stitches with a large bandage, and wash carefully. I had brought along my adhesive bandage along to wrap up my ribs afterwards, but the rest was just an unfortunate mess.
I let the hot water massage my shoulders as it rained down, and while there were massaging jets built into the tile, I didn’t want to risk that the pressure would cause more pain than relaxation. When I was healed, I’d put those jets to use, but now, I just wanted to feel clean. I wanted to wash the stench of the beating and the hospital from my body.
I wanted to stop time.
I wanted life to just stop, so I could catch my breath.
But that was a fool’s fantasy.
An idiot’s dream.
I was quickly beginning to wallow in self-pity when I heard the door to the bathroom open. “Frankie, I’m fine,” I called out. She didn’t immediately answer, but when the steamed-up shower door slid open, I knew it wasn’t Frankie.
“Everyone went home,” a naked Ciro informed me as he entered the shower.