Whatever the case, I knew I wanted to be in Tuscany again—someday.
After a very long ride, I was back in Milan.
I was tired from driving all afternoon, and now it was evening. All I wanted to do was go to bed. I’d even skip dinner because I didn’t have the energy to make something or pick something up.
The streets started to look more familiar as I approached my neighborhood.
It’d been a week since I last spoke to Bones. I said goodbye to him at the car because I never wanted to see him again. I wanted our sick and twisted connection to sever in half for good. But I thought about him every day that I was gone, and I thought about him now.
A part of me wanted to drive straight to his place.
I could sleep in that comfortable bed with that strong man beside me. He would keep me warm during the night, give me the sex I’d been missing, and protect me from all the evil things in the world—except himself.
It was so tempting I almost drove past my apartment.
But I found the strength to pull into the parking lot, grab my bag and my painting, and walk inside.
My apartment was freezing, so I cranked up the heat to chase away the frost. I set my bag on the floor and leaned the wrapped painting against the wall. Even if I wanted to display it somewhere, I couldn’t right now.
Not if I didn’t want Bones to see it.
I normally wore a long t-shirt or a nightdress to bed, but it was way too cold for that. I pulled on thick sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a thick sweater. I hated wearing clothes to bed because it wasn’t comfortable, but it was better than freezing.
And I didn’t have my personal bed warmer with me.
I lay in bed in the dark and closed my eyes.
Despite the exhaustion of traveling all day, I couldn’t sleep. And it had nothing to do with the freezing temperature.
I couldn’t stop thinking about him.
A week of silence had distanced me from him, but that silence only made me miss him more. I wondered what he was doing while I was gone. Did he pick up a job? Or did he go out to a bar and find a woman to entertain him? Did he think about me as much as I thought about him?
He didn’t call me.
Maybe he wasn’t as obsessed with me as I thought he was. Maybe I was easily replaceable. Maybe my cold goodbye made him move on to someone else?
My stomach clenched in pain.
Why did I have to feel that way? Why did I have to care?
I shouldn’t care.
I lay in the dark with my conflicted feelings, thinking about the man who wanted to hurt my family. If our relationship disappeared, he would have no interest in leaving my family alone. I could convince him to drop his vendetta with my silence. I wasn’t a prisoner anymore, but I was still bound to him.
I tossed and turned multiple times as I tried to get comfortable, but nothing worked. This bed didn’t feel right without that enormous man inside of it. I remembered the last night I stayed in this apartment and the way he camped outside in his freezing truck to keep me safe.
I’d never felt more protected as I did when he was there.
I felt invincible. More invincible than under my own father’s watch.
I’d never needed a man to protect me, but now I wanted Bones to be my guard dog, to chase away evil men with just his size and ice-cold expression. Men didn’t cross him, not unless they wanted to die.
He really did make my other lovers look like boys.
I hated that he was right.
I wondered if he was outside now, parked at the curb in his truck. He’d probably been watching my tracker regularly, wondering what I was doing and if it seemed like there was anything suspicious going on. When he saw my dot leave Tuscany and head north, he probably knew I was on my way back home.
So I was sure he knew I was there right now.
Maybe he was outside.
I stayed in bed and thought about it, wondering if his silver truck was parked at the curb down at the street. I couldn’t close my eyes because that was all I was thinking about, wondering if that behemoth of a man was braving the freezing temperatures to keep a lookout outside my apartment.
My curiosity got the best of me, so I took my phone with me into the living room. I separated the blinds and looked outside. It took a second for my eyes to adjust to the bright light from the streetlamp. But after a moment, my eyes acclimated, and I could distinguish the street.