The Sinister Silhouette

She crosses her arms over her minimal-sized chest and glares at me. “What are you going to do about it?”

Her tone doesn’t anger me. It’s what I expect from Vicki, and I’m glad Ella has someone so protective of her. I have no doubt if Chase were to walk in this room right now, Vicki would stop at nothing to make him look ten times worse than Ella. That is, if there was anything left after I got done with him.

“Now wait one damn minute here,” Dad interjects, his tone harsh. “No one is doing anything. The police have already been in to question Ella and they’ll take care of it. I won’t have any of my kids being arrested for assault.” He points a finger at Vicki. “That includes you.”

Ignoring my dad, I keep my eyes on Vicki. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Son of a bitch,” Dad mutters, knowing my mind is made up and there’s nothing anyone can say or do to change it.

Mom, on the other hand, grabs my arm and tries to turn me toward her. “Luca, please.”

I hold Vicki’s stare for a moment longer, silently telling her there will be hell to pay for what Chase did to Ella, before I turn and gently pry Mom’s hands off my forearm. When I look down at her, worry lines her face.

“Mom, you know I have to do this.” I keep my voice as gentle as I can given the circumstances and the barely contained rage coursing through my body. “You know how it is out there. The only way to protect my family in a place like this is to show I’m not willing to give an inch. Chase not only took that inch, but took a mile along with it. I’ll be damned if anyone else thinks they can do the same.”

Mom bites her lip and looks down at my hand that’s holding hers. She knows I’m right, even if it does eat her up inside that her family is in a position where shit like this has to be done. Mine and my siblings’ childhood wasn’t bad, but it could only be so good in this type of environment.

She pulls her hand from my grip and places it over my chest, where my heart beats beneath it. Her fingers dig into the bone and muscle.

“Just promise me you’ll be careful. I don’t want you hurt, or going to jail.” She says the words quietly.

I put my hand over hers. “I will.”

After holding her eyes for a moment longer, I look over to Theo, who’s been quiet so far. He’s watching the exchange between Mom and me with a hard look. He’s bent over with his elbows on his bouncing knees. He looks nervous and agitated, but his eyes silently tell me if I need help all I have to do is ask. I won’t. Theo is a lover, not a fighter. I have no doubt he could hold his own, but I don’t want his hands getting dirty like mine are.

I turn back to Ella, who looks none too happy.

“How long are they keeping you?”

“Just until tomorrow. Most of my injuries are superficial, but my concussion is slightly worrisome and they want to monitor me overnight.”

I grind my molars and give her a short nod. I’ll wait until she’s home and comfortable to hunt down the asshole and ensure he regrets even looking at Ella. Chase Leeway will wish he was dead by the time I get done with him.

A FEW HOURS LATER, I’m walking down the hallway, having just left Vicki and my parents in Ella’s room. Theo left earlier to grab Aria from the after-school program she attends sometimes. The doctor came in to check on her, and I grilled the man to make sure her injuries were in fact superficial. He looked scared at my hard tone and the half-crazed look in my eye, but reassured us all that she’ll be fine and her staying overnight is just a precaution. The news only made me feel marginally better. Ella shouldn’t be where she is right now in the first place, and I’ll make damn sure she never is again.

My boots thump against the floor as I make my way to the elevator. Right before I get to the end of the hall, something has me stopping. Turning toward the room to my right, I slowly take a step forward, then another and another until I’m inside the doorway.

There’s a woman in a bed. Or I assume it’s a woman. The person is turned on her side away from me just enough to hide her face, but there’s a braid of long brown hair on the pillow.

Before I can stop myself, I walk further into the room, softening my steps so I don’t disturb her, until I’m standing on the other side of the bed. At my first look at the woman’s sleeping face, I suck in a sharp breath. I don’t need to see her eyes to know they’re a bright golden amber and the dent in her cheek is the beginning of a dimple.

I stand in stunned silence, staring at the woman I’ve been dreaming about for almost six years. A woman who is a complete stranger to me. One I wasn’t even sure existed until this moment.

She’s beautiful. For whatever reason my dreams conjured her up, they didn’t do her justice. Her skin is flawless, and with the wisps of brown hair that’ve come loose from her braid and delicately surrounds her face, she looks angelic and pure. I have the sudden urge to finger the rope of hair to see if it’s as soft as it appears, but I ball my hands into fists to push back the need.

My eyes run down the rest of her. She’s not in the usual getup a patient wears in the hospital. Instead of the standard green gown, she’s wearing a light blue one that someone had to have brought her. The covers are up to her waist, with one arm lying flat on the bed against her body and the other resting on her stomach. The one on the bed has an IV. I follow the line up to see it hooked to two bags. My eyes catch on the machine sitting next to the bed. It beeps steadily.

I look back at the woman’s face and wonder who she is. Not only because she’s haunted my dreams for so long, even though that is in the forefront of my mind, but also because she looks so peaceful in a place where there’s not much peace to be found.

My head jerks up when a nurse enters the room. She halts in her tracks, a look of surprise on her face before it changes into a gentle smile.

“Hi there,” she says, coming to a stop at the end of the bed and messing with the blankets covering the woman’s feet.

“Hey.” I grunt my greeting.

She walks to where I’m standing, and I’m forced to step back so she can get to the machine.

“I’m new around here and haven’t had the chance to meet all the family members of our long-term patients.” She turns toward the woman in the bed and fiddles with the IV lines before turning to face me.