by Mia Madison
They look at each other without speaking, and I come away from the wall and go to my room and lie down. I wish I could turn the clock back, to when I saw that stupid video clip, and do everything differently. I’d send Antonio a tongue-in-cheek text — Hey babe, congratulations on your engagement — with a link to the website. Something cool and sophisticated and grown up, instead of sneaking out to a club and getting drunk.
After imagining a million and one better ways of responding than what I actually did, my mood is not cheerful, so it’s a relief when my phone rings and it’s Vic. “Paula went home early,” he says, and from his tone of voice I’m guessing Paula won’t be a Revved employee for much longer. “Can you come in? I’ll be back at closing time, so you won’t be there by yourself.”
“Sure, no problem. I’ll be right there.” Thank god — work will keep my mind off things. Five minutes later, I’m changed and ready to go. “Vic needs me at the café,” I tell my parents on my way to the front door.
“You’re not closing, are you?” Mom says. She and Dad both look like they’re about to jump up and block the doorway.
“Yeah, but not alone,” I reassure her. “Vic will be there with me.”
They still look worried, but Mom says, “Okay, honey. Call us when you leave work.”
“Mom, it’ll be the middle of the night.”
“Message us, then.” She’s looking stubborn, so I don’t try to argue, just wave in agreement and go outside. The sun’s gone down, but the night air is mild and the crickets are chirping.
My car needs four new tires and a new paint job before I can drive it, so I take Erin’s. Between seeing my car again, and Mr. Grant’s warnings, and my parents’ alarm at me going out, I’m jumpy as hell. I pop one of my playlist CDs into her stereo and rock out on the drive to distract myself.
Even though it’s the safest spot, I can’t bring myself to park under that streetlight again. What if Erin’s car gets the same treatment? Anyway, parking behind the café will put me near the back door.
Pulling around, I find an empty space two spots away from the door and turn the car off. The seat belt snaps back when I unbuckle it, and I’m gathering my things when a hand clamps over my mouth and I’m dragged over the seat into the back of the car.
“Little whore,” a man says. The car is just outside the circle of light cast by the bulb over the café’s back door, but in the frenzied recesses of my brain I’m almost certain I recognize his voice. “Pretending to be pure when you’re giving it up for Adamo.”
I try to kick, but his body weighs mine down, pinning me to the back seat. A hand drags at my pants; the other is still over my mouth. I twist my head at an angle, get purchase with my teeth, and bite down as hard as I can.
“Fucking cunt!” A heavy blow lands on my cheekbone. Bright red pain radiates across my face, and then his hands are around my neck, squeezing hard.
My vision starts to gray. I wish I could see Antonio one more time.
Then the weight holding me down is gone, and I can breathe. I gasp, coughing and choking, sucking air into my oxygen-starved lungs. Voices are shouting, and in the distance I hear a steady thudding sound. It almost sounds like a fist hitting flesh. Then darkness swallows me.
I’m lying on something hard and moving fast, so fast it makes me dizzy. Sirens are blaring in my ears. “Hang on, bella,” a voice says. I’m not sure if I’m alive or not, but if Tonio’s with me it doesn’t matter.
My eyes open to a white, sterile room. A monitor beeps nearby. “Hi, honey,” a soft voice says, and I let my gaze drift down from the ceiling until it lands on my parents.
They’ve both been crying; their eyes are red and Mom’s makeup is a mess. “Hey,” I say, or try to, but nothing comes out. My throat is sore; it feels swollen.
Mom’s eyes fill with tears again, and she grabs a styrofoam cup from the table beside my bed and gives me a spoonful of ice chips. I let them melt on my tongue, the minuscule amount of water more soothing than I would have expected.
Memories start to trickle back into my brain, but I’m strangely disconnected from them, as if it all happened to someone else. I’m not upset, or scared, or anything really. It seems like I should feel something, but I don’t.
The door opens and Erin and her dad come in. She’s been crying too. He hasn’t, but his face is grim.
I don’t want to see them. That’s wrong, isn’t it? She’s my best friend; I should be glad she’s here. But I don’t want to see anyone. I just want to go to sleep, and maybe when I wake up I’ll feel better. Feel something.
The door opens again and Antonio’s standing there. As soon as I see him, it’s like my chest cracks open and I’m alive. It hurts like hell, but nothing has ever felt better.
“Tonio,” I whisper soundlessly, and my eyes start to burn. He moves toward me. I’m vaguely aware of everyone else going out, but all my focus is on him. When he’s standing over me, he looks over the tubes coming out of my arms, then carefully picks me up, sits down in the bed, and sets me on his lap, my head cradled against his chest. He sticks his legs under the covers and hauls them up, yanking them free from the mattress so he can drape them over me.
I snuggle into him and close my eyes. People come and go: doctors, nurses, my parents again, Erin’s dad. Conversations happen around me but I’m not part of them. I’m safe and warm in Tonio’s arms, and nothing else matters.
Then he says, “Cait,” and I open my eyes and lift my head to look at him. “Can you talk to Detective Grant?” He tilts his head to the side, where Erin’s dad is sitting on a chair by the bed.
I don’t really want to talk to anyone, but I will for Tonio, so I nod. “Do you remember what happened?” Mr. Grant says gently.
Tonio opens the drawer of the nightstand next to the bed and pulls out a notepad and pen. I smile at him and kiss his cheek, and he smoothes a hand down my hair. “Yes,” I write on the pad, and show it to Erin’s dad.
“Good,” he says. “I didn’t want to bring anything up if you weren’t ready to hear it.” He studies me for moment, then says, “Darrel Crane is in custody and has confessed to being the one who vandalized your car.” I nod, and he says, “At this point, the police consider the case solved. There’s no indication of anyone else being a potential problem for you. So you’re safe. I wanted to be sure you knew that as soon as possible.”
I give him a small smile and write “Thank you” on the notepad. “We have crisis counselors,” he goes on. “They’re available anytime, and I would encourage you to talk to someone even if it doesn’t feel like you need to.” His eyes go to Antonio after he says this, and Tonio nods.
Mr. Grant leaves again. I remember something, write on the pad, “Why were you in the ambulance?” and show it to Tonio.
“I was in the café, babe. Waiting for you.” My eyes get big. “I was there to eat, but when Vic said you were coming in for the late shift, I decided to stay. Saw you drive Erin’s car into the parking lot, but then you didn’t come inside.”
So it was Tonio who stopped it. His right hand is bruised and swollen, the knuckles raw. I touch gentle fingers to his skin and look at him, and he nods. “I beat the shit out of him, bella. Vic and his brothers had to drag me off him.”
I can’t find it in me to be sorry about it. But I ask, via the pad, “Are you in trouble?”
“No, babe. If the guys hadn’t stopped me, maybe, but not a cop in that department was going to bust me under the circumstances.”
After seeing how Erin’s dad was with him, that’s what I suspected, but I’m relieved. I write a final question on the pad. “When can I get out of here?”
Tonio kisses my forehead. “I’ll find out.” He starts to lift me, but I pick up the nurse’s call button and show it to him. “Okay,” he says, and tucks me close again.
Half an hour later, I’ve been discharged. My mom comes in to help me get dressed. “Do you …” she says, then stops, takes a breath, and starts again. “Do you want to go home
with Antonio?”
I know how much it costs her to ask me that question. My eyes fill up, and I look at her and nod. Then I put my arms around her and we stand there, just holding each other.
Erin is still there with her parents. I get hugs from them, and give each of my parents a long embrace, and then Tonio and I go out hand in hand. One of the cousins has brought his SUV, and Tonio lifts me into it for the drive home.
Home. Tonio reaches out and takes my hand, tucking it against his thigh. We drive on into the night, under the clear, dark, star-filled sky.
Epilogue
Five years later
I’m surrounded by Adamos. Tonio and I are hosting Thanksgiving, and I’ve never seen so many people in a house at once. We could probably win an award.
My parents are here, too. Fortunately, they’ve been around the Adamo clan enough by now that they take all the madness in stride. Mom’s sitting nearby with a baby on her lap, and Dad is in watching football with the guys.
My dog, Frankie, lies by my chair snoozing, and I reach down and stroke her back. I should be helping with the meal, but I’m not allowed. I’m ensconced in a brand-new recliner with my feet up, under strict orders from Tonio not to move a muscle. He’s even carrying me back and forth to the bathroom when I have to pee — which is frequently. In fact, I’m getting the urge right now.
I put a hand on my distended belly, where our first child is busy kicking me. I’m only seven months along, but my uterus is an unusual shape, making this a high-risk pregnancy. I’m on enforced bed rest for the next two months, and it’s driving me crazy, but I know it’s for the best. “Mom,” I say, “could you find Antonio and tell him I need the bathroom again?”
“I’ll get him,” Gino announces, and races off through the house, shouting at the top of his five-year-old lungs. “Antonio! Catie has to pee!”
I look at Mom and start giggling, and then I’m laughing so hard I’m crying. “Oh, damn,” I say when I feel the wetness. “Now I’ve done it.”
Putting the recliner down, I scoot to the edge and stand as Tonio comes around the corner into the family room. “Sorry, babe,” I tell him. “I think we better put a towel down on that chair before I ruin it.”
He’s about to scold me for getting up on my own; I can tell by the look on his face. Before he can speak, I feel something rip inside me, and then my pants are soaking wet. “Oh god,” I say softly. “Oh my god.”
Pain sears through me. Frankie starts barking, loud and sharp. My knees buckle, but Tonio’s there, lifting me into his arms. I see Mom nearby, her face white.
“ARLO! CAR!” Tonio bellows, and then everything descends into chaos.
Three hours later, I’m lying in a hospital bed holding my sleeping son. “He’s beautiful,” I say. “He looks just like you.”
“Have to look like you to be beautiful, bella,” Tonio says, his lips grazing my forehead.
“You’re kidding,” I tell him. “Have you seen you? You’re gorgeous.”
He smiles and kisses me softly. “Was hoping we’d have a bigger brood,” he says, stroking a finger over his son’s cheek. “But one is okay.”
“Let’s see what the doctors say,” I tell him, ignoring the stab of pain in my heart. “There’s a lot they can do these days.”
“Not gonna risk you, babe. All the kids in the world aren’t worth that.”
I pull him in for another kiss. “I love you, Antonio Alessandro Adamo.” We’ve been married since the spring of my senior year in college, and every day I find more reasons to adore him.
“Love you too, cara mia.” His big hand cups the baby’s head. “What are we gonna call him?” We’ve talked about a lot of names, but haven’t settled on anything.
“Maybe Amato,” I say. “That means beloved. Or Donato — gift.”
“Should give him a name he can grow into, I think.”
Our son wakes then, his eyes calm with that extreme self-possession some babies have. He looks at us as if he knows exactly who he is, and exactly who we are, and is fine with the whole arrangement.
“Nicolo,” I say quietly. “Nico for short.”
“Yeah,” Tonio says. “That’s good. Suits him.”
His job done for the moment, Nico goes back to sleep. I yawn in sympathy, and Tonio says, “Rest a little bit, babe. I’ll take him out, show him to everyone, bring him back.”
“Not for too long,” I say. It’s not that I’m worried; I just want my men with me.
“We won’t be long, bella.” He gently lifts his son into his arms, and I watch with a smile. At the door, Tonio turns back to me, his dark eyes intent on mine.
“Got no words, babe, for what you mean to me. Wish I had your knack for them.”
I blink back tears and blow him a kiss. “You don’t need words, Tonio. You show me all the time. Just being near you makes me the luckiest woman on earth.”
He gives me a look that says everything, then carries his son out to meet the world.
About the Author
In the mood for something decadent, delicious, and provocative? Meet Mia Madison, purveyor of Forbidden Fantasies Romance. Come in, sit back, and relax. The candles are lit, and the dancing shadows on the wall promise sexy, seductive tales of spine-tingling love, leading to a pleasure-drenched happy-ever-after.
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