I place the phone back in my pocket when he hangs up and look at Lucia.
“Cristiano’s awake. I’m going to go to the hospital. Are you going to be okay with Mia? Marcello is watching the house tonight.”
“Of course, you know I’ll be fine. That’s good news about your friend.” Her face brightens a little.
“Thanks. And thank you for this, too.” I tap the envelope in her hands, and she smiles.
“That’s not a problem. Please be careful, Alejandro.”
She reaches out and touches my face. Something in her eyes grips me. They hold a sheen of admiration in them I’m used to seeing, but that pain I witnessed weeks ago lurks in the background, calling to me like it wants me to save her from something.
But what?
That doesn’t make any sense because I thought her job here with me was fixing whatever problem she has. But then, didn’t I suspect there was more to her? Something more that’s been going on she hasn’t spoken about.
It’s to do with her father. That’s obvious. That pleading look, though, silently whispers to me to help her.
What am I supposed to save you from, Lucia?
I cup her face and kiss her.
“I’ll see tomorrow morning. We’ll talk some more before I leave for work.”
She nods, and we walk out together.
I watch her as she makes her way down to Mia’s room, and she’s still on my mind as I drive away.
One thing at a time.
At least Cristiano is awake.
Marcusand I walk into Cristiano’s room.
It’s a refreshing sight of hope to see him propped up against a stack of pillows with his eyes open.
He’s still bruised badly, bandaged up and attached to tubes, but not as many.
“Guys,” he says in a raspy, weak voice.
“How are you feeling?” Marcus beats me to asking the question.
“Like that time when I tried to jump my motorcycle over Widow’s Peak to impress that new girl in school, and I ended up with two broken legs.”
Marcus laughs, and I smirk at the memory. We would have all been around sixteen.
“I’m glad you can joke,” I say.
“That’s me, all fun and games until I get hurt.”
When the smile fades from Cristiano’s face, the mood shifts back to serious.
“I guess I made the cut in your eyes if you asked to see me,” Marcus points out.
Cristiano sighs. “You made the cut long ago, hombre.” He looks from me to Marcus and drags in a deep breath. “I saw Lorenzo at the facility, just before the bomb went off.”
Marcus and I exchange glances. I clench my jaw as fury clogs up my throat.
“You saw him?” I clarify.