“She’ll get through it.” He said softly and put his hand on my shoulder. “We’ll all help.”
“Who knows?” I say and shrug my shoulders. “Maybe she will wake up and be fine.” I chuckle weakly, then swallow the lump quickly forming in my throat, knowing that wouldn’t be the case.
Bryan walked in, also having stripped down to his undershirt, and pulled the yellow rubber gloves off his hands. “It’s clean in there. I left the trash bag with everything in there, ready to burn.”
“Thank you.”
“Yeah, of course.” He shrugs and pulls his t-shirt out of his back pocket and slips it on over his head. “Now, it’s way too late for us to head back to Boston. Are you good if we crash here?”
“Of course, man. The couch pulls out, and I have a mat I’ve used for camping in the storage unit out back.” I may not know how I’m going to handle things when Talia wakes up or what’s going to happen when the Italians find out about Garzino, but I do know how to take charge.
“Trent, go get the mat out back. Bryan, I have extra sheets and blankets in the closet by the guest bathroom. Cillian, go shower man. You’re getting dirt everywhere. I’ll start making some food.” I give everyone their jobs and march off to the very clean, very bleached kitchen. Every single surface is sparkling clean and the smell of chemicals is so strong I want to open a window. On the stove is the pot of what looks to be completely blackened macaroni and cheese.
I just can’t believe I let this happen. I brace myself against the counter with my hands and my head hangs as I try to slow my heartrate. He was in our house.
He was. In. Our. House.
He could’ve done anything to her; all the things that she’s terrified of, a repeat of all the torture she’s endured. And I wasn’t here to protect her.
The light glints off my thin silver wedding band and I clench my fist. If that fucker wasn’t dead, I would’ve killed him myself. Beat him bloody and when he was begging for death, beat him some more. Sliced him up with a dull knife and watch him bleed out slowly. A quick death wasn’t what he deserved.
My breathing quickened and Ineededto calm the fuck down. Punching the counter once, hard enough to make my knuckles sting, I turned to the fridge to try and make something for my friends who’d just spent hours doing dirty work for me. I could pretend that they were just here because I’m their Second, but I knew it was really because they’re my friends. They proved that when they stayed not because I ordered them to, but they just jumped in and did what needed to be done for me so that I could take care of my girl.
“Find anything edible?” I turn and see Trent leaning against the door.
“What?” I look back in the fridge and my heart breaks all over again at the grouping of ingredients on the top shelf that Talia must have put together for the dinner she said she wanted to make. She’d put everything into a little basket and I can just imagine her putting it together, excited to cook something for us to enjoy together, like the freshly married couple we are.
“Food, Kieron. Did you find anything we could eat because I’m starving.”
“Yeah, yeah, I did.” I pull out sandwich stuff, throwing the bags of lunchmeat and cheese on the counter.
“It’s going to be okay. She’s going to be okay.” He reminds me, walking over to the bread box and pulling the loaf out. “She’s not in the hospital and she stood up for herself. She shot the fucker. Maybe it will be cathartic.”
“That’s not it, man.”
He pulled a couple knifes out of the drawer and set them down gently. “You couldn’t have known.”
“He was here. In our house. The one place she’s told me she felt safe.” I slam the bottle of mustard down on the counter harder than needed. “And he took that away from her.”
“You can make it safe feeling for her again.”
“Yeah.” I say, unconvinced. Trent and I work in silence, making enough sandwiches to feed the four of us and then some because we can eat a lot. Taking the plate piled high into the living room, I see Cillian and Bryan standing around the made-up bed with their arms crossed, talking quietly.
I set the plate down, grabbing the top sandwich and sitting down on the chair beside the couch silently. Each of the guys follow suit, and they seem to just respect my need to be quiet. My eyes flicker towards the bedroom door and I see a shadow move quickly.
My heart drops to my stomach.Not again.
I drop my sandwich, jump up over the table, pulling my gun from my waistband, ready to murder the motherfucker trying to hurt her.
I push the door open and it hits the wall with a loud bang. I swing my gun around the room, eyes searching for the intruder, but there’s no one there. Seeing there is no threat, I calmed down just a bit. Talia was standing topless at the dresser, pulling a fresh shirt from the drawer, which she wrapped around her chest tightly and screamed when I barged in.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” I flick the safety on, tucking the gun back out of sight, and pull her into my arms. “I thought there was someone in here.”
“Just me.” She says hoarsely, hugging me back. “Gave me a goddamn heart attack.”
“I’m sorry. I just…I thought there was someone else here.” I end lamely. I hadn’t even thought that she could be awake, just fearful that someone else was coming for her and I acted.
“I woke up and felt like there was still…” She says, looking down at her shirt and her hands.
