He looks over at meagain.
“Please, just take me home to your place. After Mimi…” I swallow. “I hatehospitals.”
Something flashes in his eyes when I make that admission. The truck’s speed slows somewhat, and his thigh relaxes a tiny bit beneath my hand. He doesn’t speak until we stop at a red light a few moments later. I hear him suck in a steadyingbreath.
“You’re mine, Delilah. I take care of what’s mine. That means, when you’re hurt, I do everything in my power to protect you. In this case, that means getting you checked out by a doctor. Even if you don’t want to. Even if dragging you there makes you pissed as hellatme.”
“If the bleeding starts again, or I start feeling sick, I promise not to fight you. I promise I’ll go.” I hold his stare. “But I don’t need medicine. Right now, in this moment, what I really need are strong arms around me. A warm cup of tea. I need to feel safe. Ineed…you.”
His eyesflare.
“Luca.” My voice is pleading. “Please… takemehome.”
He pauses, considering. “You start to feel even the slightest bitdizzy…”
“You’ll be the firsttoknow.”
He shakes his head as his hands tighten on the wheel. He doesn’t look happy about it, but at the next intersection he turns the truck around and heads toward theNorthEnd.
We don’t speak for the rest of the ride, both caught up in our own thoughts. Fifteen minutes later, we pull up outside his building. He’s out of the cab, around my side before I even have time to remove my seatbelt. Taking Fenway from my arms, he slings the doggie bag over his shoulder, then helps me down to thesidewalk.
“I can carry you,” he offersquietly.
“I’m fine. Ipromise.”
He slips his arm around my waist anyway, and supports most of my weight as we walk inside. I must admit, despite my brave face, I’m happy for the help. My head aches, along with my back and bruised tailbone. My lungs are sore from the strike to my chest. And, beyond that, I feel emotionally rattled. As if every shadow we walk by is concealing monsters, who’ll jump out and attack when I leastexpectit.
As we step into his apartment the fear ebbs a bit, until my fists uncurl and I can breathe again. I feel infinitely safer here than I would staying alone in my apartment, tossing and turning on a leaky air mattress with nothing to defend myself should my attackers decide to pay another visit besides a puppy who hasn’t even figured out how to barkproperly,yet.
Luca flips on the light, dumps Fenway’s bag by the door, and unclips him from his leash. He promptly runs off to explore the apartment, sniffing every square inch of the place. I’m too tired to chaseafterhim.
Luca takes one look at my face and leads me through the French doors into his bedroom in total silence. My eyes sweep around — a large platform bed with a slate headboard dominates most of the space. The rest is pretty standard: dresser, mirror, closet. He doesn’t pause as he guides me into the adjacent master bathroom. There’s a gorgeous glass-doored shower with a ceiling-mounted rainfall fixture on the left, a long black granite sink vanity to the right, and a toilet mounted against thefarwall.
Lifting me by the waist, Luca sets me on the vanity countertop and examines me with intent eyes. His hands run down my arms and legs, searching for scrapes and gashes. Finding none, he steps to my side and gently turns my chin to examine the back of my head. I feel his fingers parting my hair with care as he leans close to look at thewound.
“It’s pretty shallow. Already closing.” He moves to stand directly in front of me. “Head wounds tend to bleedalot.”
“Got sick of the strawberry blonde, figured I’d go for a redder shade,”Ijoke.
He doesn’t laugh. Leaning in, he rests his forehead against mine. His breaths are labored. I can see the muscle jumping in his cheek, can feel the tension still holding his every atomhostage.
“Luca,” I whisper, lifting my hands to his neck, where his pulse thunders beneath the skin. “I’m fine. Really. You were there. Youstoppedthem.”
“Not fast enough.” His words are low. “Never should’ve let you walkalone.”
“This isn’t yourfault.”
His jaw ticks. “If something had happenedtoyou…”
“It didn’t.” I lean a shade closer, until our lips are parallel. “I’mrighthere.”
“We should probably call the police. File an official report, even though I can track them down faster with Knox Investigations’resources.”
“Maybe,” Ihedge.
“Delilah.”
“Not now, okay? Right now, I need to think about something that isn’t scary.Somethinggood.”