I sat back in the chair, trying to battle down my nerves, one question burning in my mind.
Why wasn’t Matteo home yet?
Geo’s voice broke through my panic. “Evie.”
I looked up, startled.
“Are you all right? It’s three o’clock.”
“I can’t sleep. I’m worried.”
He came in and crouched in front of me. “He will be home soon, Evie.”
A tear ran down my cheek, but I nodded, trying to smile.
“This happens on occasion. They have to adjust, go to Plan B. All will be well.”
“Do you ever get used to it?”
He shook his head. “No.” He sat on the edge of the desk. “Matteo’s father was my half brother. We were never close. After he died and Matteo went to live with Aldo, Vince’s uncle, we became closer. When he decided to join this fight, I did as well in my own way.” He lifted his shoulders. “As a physician, I can offer services that would have questions asked at a hospital. I am completely legal and my practice busy, but Matteo and his crew come first. What he does—what his crew does—is not something I’m involved in. And luckily, they are careful, and my services are not required often. I have to trust in Matteo, but like you, I worry.”
“I saw a few scars,” I whispered.
“Yes, they have all been hurt, but they are careful. Matteo takes the lives and welfare of his crew very seriously. And his own as well. Especially now.” He squeezed my hands. “I’m so pleased he has found you.”
“I love him.”
He stood and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I know, Evie. I know.” He smiled. “I will leave you in peace. But try to get some sleep. Matteo won’t be happy when he returns and you look tired.”
“I’ll try.”
He left and I sat there, my head filled with questions and my heart heavy. The one person I could talk to, could ask, was out somewhere doing something I couldn’t even comprehend. At times, it was hard to reconcile the man I first saw with the man I loved. I knew they were one and the same, yet at times the dichotomy between them was so great, it was hard to believe.
One a cold, ruthless killer with no qualms about taking a human life. Exacting justice for those the criminals had hurt—determined to save others from the fate his sister had faced and punish those responsible.
The other, a tender, passionate husband who would do anything to protect me—even from himself. A man who had buried his emotions so deep, he forgot to live and was slowly learning to open himself back up to that side of life. Who so desperately craved the light he had turned away from.
That was my husband. Black-and-white. Dark-and-light.
Regardless of what happened outside this house, of right or wrong, he was mine and I loved him.
I curled up in his chair, surrounded by his scent.
Chapter Sixteen
Evie
The next day, I baked hundreds of cookies, my nerves so tight I couldn’t sit down. Back and forth I went between the oven and the window, hoping somehow to see a car with Matteo in it coming through the gates.
The house smelled of cinnamon and spices, chocolate and sugar. I wanted to spoil Matteo when he got home.
He just had to get here.
Geo entered the kitchen, looking serious. My heart rate sped up.
“Geo, what is it?”
He held up his hand. “All is well. I had a message from Vince. They were delayed but will be home soon.”
I sat down, my legs too shaky to hold me up any longer. “Okay. Th–That’s good.”
He crouched in front of me. “There are some injuries, Evie.”
I felt myself go pale. “Matteo?”
“He is one of the ones hurt, yes. Not life-threatening, but I will check them out as soon as they get here.”
“When will they be here?”
“Within two hours.”
I stood. “All right. We need to be ready.”
He smiled. “Yes.”
A short while later, I was in the kitchen making coffee when I heard the front door open and slam into the wall. There was the sound of running feet, and Matteo’s voice rang out in the quiet house.
“Evie!”
Footsteps pounded on the steps, and I hurried into the hall. “Matteo?”
He stopped, spinning on the staircase. He stared at me, then took the steps back down two at a time and yanked me into his arms. He was shaking and tense. He crushed me tight to his chest, lifting me off the floor.
“Oh, Evie. Evie,” he whispered. “Evie.”
He was terrifying me. “Matteo,” I pleaded, running my hands over him. “I’m here.”
He said nothing, and I pulled back, cupping his face. It was bruised, a cut over his eye that ran along his hairline, dried blood mixed with fresh on his skin. His hands had cuts and bruises on them. He was drawn-looking, his eyes almost black.
Behind me, Gianna and Roza greeted their husbands, but my attention was on Matteo. His breathing was too fast, and as I pressed my hand to his chest, he winced.