Mafia's Final Play (Mafia's Obsession #3) - Summer Cooper Page 0,54

her?” Marie turned her whole body to face him, her feet on the wrung beneath his seat. “Is she the one that put the contract out?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe. I need to talk to Anton.” He inhaled deeply and a dark cloud passed over his face, a look that was a mix of hurt, anger, and confusion. “Fuck.”

“I’m sorry baby. It’s just, at first I was so angry I couldn’t think straight. And there was so much going on. I wanted to forget it, to just be with you and wipe things like her and my mother out of my mind. Because that’s what it was like, listening to my mother all over again. Only, I didn’t back down, as I would so often with my mother.” She shuddered and looked out at the snow on the ground. It was so bright outside that she’d thought about drawing the curtains but had left them alone. She liked being able to see outside.

She hadn’t let this whole contract business worry her, she felt safe out here and might have even forgotten about it if Anton and Matteo weren’t always talking about security. Now, though, she had to face it.

“It’s not your fault, Marie,” he answered and took her hands in between his. “You were under a lot of stress, and then the attack happened, you aren’t to blame.”

“No, but maybe I should have told you earlier.” She shrugged yet again and met his eyes. “If it’s her, what can be done?”

“I’m not sure. She wasn’t one of my favorite people before you came along. Now? I’ll do what I have to.” He pulled away from her, stood up, and walked over to the fridge.

She knew he needed that distance from her, to not touch her because he never wanted her to be near anything he considered dirty. If the expression on his face told her anything, it told her that he was thinking very bad things. Things he wouldn’t want her to know about.

Instead of pushing him to tell her, she stood up to refill her apple juice and got the bottle out of the fridge. He moved over to the stove and watched as she poured the juice into a glass. “Do you want anything?”

“No, I’m good.” He came up to her, hugged her tight in his arms, and pecked her forehead with a kiss. “And so are you, Marie. You’re so very good. All that is good in my world.”

He bent to kiss her neck in a spot that he knew tickled and she laughed as she pulled away from him. A shiver ran through her as the sensation lingered and she glared at him. “That was just wrong.”

She picked up the glass to take a drink, but before she could pull it up all the way, he spoke.

“It made you smile though,” he grinned at her but then the smile disappeared.

The glass shook in her hand. Her left hand. The hand that didn’t have a tremor. The juice splashed out of the glass until she put it down. There. That.

That was what really scared her, that was the elephant in the room they’d danced around all this time today. Would she need a doctor? Would she be able to travel? She looked at him, fear in her eyes, reflected back in his.

“That’s the wrong hand.” His voice was low as if he didn’t want to say it too loud.

“I know.” She stared at him, then looked at her hand, flat against the counter. “It’s the wrong hand.”

“Fuck.” He took her in his arms again and she let the sob out that she’d been trying to strangle down. “Fuck baby, I’m here for you. Don’t cry, please don’t cry.”

“I can’t do it, Matteo, I can’t go through that. Not what Mom went through. I just can’t.” She clung to him, her lifeline in this storm. “Please, make it go away.”

“I would if I could, baby, you know that.”

There were tears in his voice, but she was clinging tightly to him, her head pressed into his neck, and she couldn’t see his face. The world, the real world, had just settled back over them, and it had destroyed all of the happiness she’d had all day. It was the wrong hand.

17

Dinner was over with and the dishes washed. Anton had gone back upstairs, his face troubled, but he hadn’t said much. They’d talked while Marie cooked dinner, and they’d both agreed it was time to go back to New York.