“Me,” he replied instantly.
“And to protect you?”
“Marcus.”
“Then you come with me and bring Marcus. Add another car of men if you want.”
I could see he was wavering.
“Julian was right yesterday when he said we couldn’t live like this forever, Matteo. Please. It’s only a trip to the store.”
He pondered my words, then nodded. “Fine. Marcus drives us, and we go to one store.”
“Two.”
“You’re trying my patience, Evie.”
“Matteo, please.”
He sighed heavily. “I would give you the world if you asked me, but this is what you request instead. To leave the safety of the estate and put yourself at risk.”
I rolled my eyes. “Julian has pictures of Raoul in Mexico, Matteo. Thousands of miles from here. I doubt he can see the future and somehow know I’d be out gallivanting and looking for peanut butter today.”
His lips twitched. “This isn’t a laughing matter.”
“I know. But the bottom line is we can’t stay cooped up forever. Everyone else has gone back to their lives. I realize they’re being extra cautious, but they are still back to their own routines. At some point, you have to allow me to do so as well.”
“Until he is caught or dead, you do not leave this house without me knowing and full security, do you understand?”
“But we can go today? Now?”
“Yes.”
I flung my arms around his neck, kissing him passionately. He gripped my hips, drawing me flush to him. “Perhaps in a few minutes?” he teased against my lips.
“No. You’ll change your mind.” I stepped back, tugging his hand. “Now.”
He let me lead him out of his office.
“Evie.”
I looked up at the sound of Matteo’s voice. He stood in the doorway of my craft room, peering in as if afraid to step inside. “Well, you’ve been busy.”
Unable to leave the house, I had filled the freezers with food, swam until I felt I was waterlogged, watched more movies than I had viewed in my entire life, worked with the women, and still had time on my hands. So, I kept busy making things. Wreaths, decorated pinecones, garlands, all sorts of things for the upcoming season filled the room. It was months away, but I would be ready.
“How many houses do you plan to decorate, Evie?” he asked with a grin.
“As many as it takes,” I replied. “Do you need something?”
“Julian is here and would like to see both of us,” Matteo informed me, turning serious.
Instantly, my nerves kicked in. “Is it bad news?”
He held out his hand. “I hope not. Come with me, please.”
We sat in the kitchen around the table. I stared at Julian after he informed us that Raoul Carmen was dead.
Matteo ran a hand through his hair. “Are you certain?”
Julian pushed a pile of photos toward him. “We confirmed Raoul was in the building. Heat imaging showed he was the only one in the room. He had the place wired, which is his MO. There was gunfire, and we found a body. It was identified as his. He’s dead, Matteo.”
Matteo flipped through the photos, peering hard at the images. “DNA proof?”
“That will take a few days. But it’s simply a formality. Look for yourself, Matteo. It’s him.”
“It looks like him.” Matteo grimaced. “A dirty, emaciated shell of him anyway.”
“He’s been on the run—what did you expect? There was a visual confirmation of him going into the building. Another one of him entering the apartment. Our men were everywhere once we got the tip. He never left, and there was only one body found after the shootout. His.”
I didn’t look at the pictures. I had no idea what Raoul Carmen looked like, and I didn’t care. He was dead.
That meant Matteo would relax. Life would go back to being normal—or at least, as normal as it could be with Matteo. It had been six weeks of being stuck in this house. Aside from two fast trips out to the store, I hadn’t been able to get Matteo to relax his constant vigilance.
But the threat was gone now. It was time to move on. And given the news I planned to share later with him, it would be a double cause for celebration.
Julian stood, taking the file folder. “I’ll have the DNA results in a few days, so you can relax, Matteo. We can discuss the next case after this is done.”
Matteo had been home a lot. He was gone only a day or two, and when he was away, I was surrounded by security, and he checked in frequently. His overprotectiveness made me nervous since I was worried that I was a distraction and he could get hurt because of it again. He had healed well, although the scar on his head was a constant reminder of what had occurred. He had started wearing his hair over his forehead to hide it since he knew it bothered me. He assured me on more than one occasion that he was capable of handling multiple tasks and I shouldn’t worry so much. But I did. I had to admit I liked having him home more. What he did was dangerous and risky, but I understood why he did it, even if I didn’t like it.