Protecting What's Mine

by Jennifer Sucevic

  Paralyzed by fear, my eyes stay fastened on the vehicle. It looks like it’s speeding right toward me. Adrenaline spikes through my veins, making my skin prickle with awareness.

  Just as the sedan jumps the curb, I leap out of the way. My feet get tangled, and I trip, tumbling to the cement before rolling toward one of the buildings. Stunned, I lay on the sidewalk for a moment as chaos breaks out around me.

  Feet pound against the pavement.

  The edges of my vision grow blurry as a sense of shock fills me.

  I stare sightlessly at the crowd gathered around me. Raised voices babble with disbelief. A few individuals crane their necks, looking up and down the busy street, trying to locate the vehicle that almost hit me.

  But it’s gone.

  It never even slowed.

  “Miss? Miss? Are you okay?” The man talking to me pauses and asks, “Can you hear me?”

  My eyes lock on him as he fills my line of sight. Thankfully he blocks out all the others, allowing me to focus on him.

  Sucking in a shaky breath, I nod weakly. That’s when I realize that I’m still sprawled out on the sidewalk. My hands scrabble to find purchase. As I struggle to sit upright, he gently pushes me down.

  “You need to stay where you are. Don’t try getting up just yet. We need to make sure that your spine and head haven’t sustained any injuries. An ambulance is on its way.”

  I hurt all over. My hands and knees have taken the brunt of my fall. I don’t think anything is seriously wrong, though. I don’t remember actually being hit. But it was a close call. So close. I don’t know how I managed to escape unscathed.

  “I’m-I’m okay.” I moisten my lips. My mind is spinning. I can’t think about anything other than the fact that whoever was behind the wheel of that car didn’t even stop to see if I was okay.

  I tremble as that thought continues to fester. I gingerly touch the back of my skull because it’s throbbing. I can’t remember if I knocked it when I fell to the ground.

  The man hovering over me has taken control of the situation. I wonder if he’s an off-duty police officer. He has an authoritative demeanor about him. Nothing feels okay right now, but the power he exudes calms me.

  I feel safe even though I’m still lying on the walkway.

  He runs his hands over me, probing for injury. “Tell me if anything hurts when I touch it.”

  His hands are huge, but his touch is tender. As if he’s aware of his own strength.

  “I’m okay.” My voice trembles. “Just a bit shaken up.”

  “You took a nasty spill when you dodged that car. It’s better to wait until the ambulance arrives.” He gives me a reassuring smile. “Just to be safe.”

  I nod.

  Tears fill my eyes as the gravity of the situation hits me. I can’t believe this has happened. If I hadn’t jumped out of the way when I did, I could have been seriously injured.

  I could have been killed.

  Thank God I saw it coming.

  My eyes dart around the crowd, which now looks three people deep. “I think I’m okay.” Using my hands, I lift myself up again. But like before, he gently pushes me down.

  “You need to stay put, Grace. I have experience in these kind of situations, and it’s best not to move. I hear the sirens now. It won’t be long, I promise. Then the EMT’s can decide what to do. But I think they’ll want to take a closer look at you at the hospital. Maybe take a few X-rays, too. They can call a family member for you.”

  That last comment brings more tears to my eyes. Other than Dominic, there’s no one to call. But this stranger doesn’t know that. Resigned, I squeeze my eyes shut to block out everything around me. “Thank you for staying with me.”

  “It’s not a problem. Hopefully one of these bystanders got the license plate. I hate to see that asshole get away with a near hit-and-run.” He asks, “You didn’t happen to notice the plate number, did you?”

  In my mind, all I see is a nondescript car speeding toward me.

  I don’t know what color the vehicle was, let alone what was on the license plate. I couldn’t even tell if it had an Illinois plate. I only remember the feeling of panic that filled me when I realized the car wasn’t veering away, but barreling straight toward me.

  Opening my eyes, I shake my head. “No, I don’t remember anything.”

  Looking sympathetic, he nods. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

  I’m still trying to make sense of what just happened. “Do you think it was a drunk driver?”

  “It’s possible.” He glances up as the sirens become louder. “Looks like the bus is here. They’ll get you to the hospital and checked out.”

  It’s hard to believe that I left my building less than an hour ago for a run to clear my head. I never could have imagined that I’d be heading to the hospital instead of back to Lexington Place after almost being hit by a reckless driver.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  I lay balled up on my bed, watching Matteo as he paces back and forth in front of me. He hasn’t said much since we’ve gotten home from the hospital. Other than a few scrapes and bruises, I’m fine.

  I’m more shaken up than anything else.

  I tried declining a one-way ticket to the hospital, but the paramedics were having none of it. They seemed to take orders from the guy at the scene. At the emergency room, the doctor decided to run a battery of tests. I don’t think I’ve ever been so thoroughly checked over in my life.

  Matteo was already waiting for me when we came through the ER doors.

  The weird thing is that I don’t remember calling him.

  But I must have, right?

  Then again, I was out of it after the accident. So, it’s possible that I called or texted. Maybe I asked the guy who stayed with me to contact him. Everything is still fuzzy. The doctor said that was normal. Apparently, shock can do that to you.

  My eyes gravitate toward Matteo again. Not knowing how to make this better, I watch from my curled-up position on the bed. He drags a hand through his hair and shifts his gaze to me.

  “You don’t remember anything about the car? Nothing sticks out in your mind?”

  Exhausted from everything that has taken place today, I shake my head.

  I’m done talking about what happened. I rehashed the story several times for the police at the hospital. I can’t remember anything other than the sedan being dark. I don’t know if it was a man or woman behind the wheel.

  “Nothing?” He looks frustrated by my response. “It’s all just a blank?”

  I sigh as irritation sets in. Does he think I’m lying? I have no reason to do that. I want the psycho who almost hit me off the streets as much as he does. “I’m sorry, but I can’t remember.”

  I’ve had enough Tylenol to choke a Clydesdale, yet I still have a pounding headache.

  “It was an accident. Probably a guy coming home from a night out drinking.” Wanting it to be that or something else equally innocuous, I add, “Or a teenager who was texting.”

  He levels a hard-edged stare in my direction.

  After a long silence, I ask, “You don’t think so?”

  “I’m not sure,” he says slowly, as if he’s choosing his words carefully. Which is odd.

  All of my sore muscles clench. “You think what happened was on purpose?”

  He stares flatly before speaking. “I think it’s possible.”

  Goose bumps break out across my flesh.

  “Why would you say that?” I shake my head, wincing from the pain that movement causes. None of this makes sense. “Why would someone want to hurt me?”

  He plows a hand through his hair again. A few seconds of silence ensue before he mutters, “Maybe they were trying to get to me. I don’t know, bella. That’s the problem. I just don’t know.” Turning toward me, his eyes meet mine. The look he gives me is gut-wrenching.

  Ignoring my body’s protests, I pull myself into a sitting position. “You think that what happened today is somehow related to you?
To your family?”

  He closes the distance between us and carefully lays a hand on me. His dark gaze continues holding mine. Anger radiates from him in heavy waves. “I don’t know.”

  My mind snaps back to him waiting at the hospital for the ambulance to arrive. No matter how hard I try, I can’t remember contacting him.

  “Did I call you after the accident?”

  His brows pinch together. He seems thrown by the question. “No.” His fingers softly trail over my face. “You didn’t call.” Before I can ask any further questions, his arms band around me, gently pulling me closer so that my cheek can rest against his chest. “I should have been there.” Pain seeps into his raspy voice. “I never should have let you run by yourself.”

  His previous comments continue to rattle around my head. I focus on the one question I can’t shake. “If I didn’t contact you, how did you know I was at the hospital?” I pull away, needing some distance so that I’m able to think clearly. “You were at the hospital before I arrived. How did you know?” Another shiver creeps through me as I wait for a rational explanation.

  Matteo doesn’t say a word.

  My mind somersaults. The pit sitting at the bottom of my belly continues to grow with each passing second of silence. How could he know what I was doing or what was happening unless…

  “Did you have me followed?”

  Guilt flickers in his eyes, and I know my suspicion is correct. The thought of being watched makes my skin crawl. I went through a similar situation with Dominic. I can’t do it again.

  “Why?” My blood starts to boil. The physical pain pressing in on me recedes as mental anguish takes over. “Why would you do that?”

  Reaching out, he tries to stroke his fingers across my cheek. I flinch and his hand stops midair. His eyes flare wide, as if I’ve struck him. All I’ve done since meeting Matteo is seek out his touch. This is the first time I’ve refused it. My response leaves him stricken. Tamping down my inner turmoil, I scoot backwards, away from him.

  “Why would you have me followed?” I pause, my voice dropping dangerously low. “Do you not trust me?”

  His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “No! Of course, I trust you. It was more of a protective measure. I’m just trying to keep you safe.” He moves toward me and tries to scoop me up into his arms. I press my hand to his chest to stop him.

  “Why would you do something like that behind my back?”

  “Because my world is a dangerous one, and I need to protect what’s mine,” he answers without a hint of regret. “And make no mistake, bella, you are mine.”

  I wrap my arms around myself for comfort as a feeling of unease grows inside my chest. “You should have told me,” I accuse.

  “Would you have willingly agreed to a security detail?”

  “Of course not,” I fire back.

  Who would want someone skulking around after them? Spying, then reporting back on every move they make. It creeped me out when Dominic did it, and it creeps me out now knowing that Matteo couldn’t be bothered to discuss the situation with me. He had no right to sic a watchdog on me without consulting me first.

  He straightens to his full height. The hard expression on his face proves that he has no remorse. “I thought it was better this way. You go about living your life, but I take the necessary measures to make sure nothing happens to you.”

  Frustrated by this conversation, I stare out the window. It feels like my life has imploded. My mind replays everything that happened this morning, and something clicks in my head.

  I’m such an idiot.

  I murmur, “The man who stayed with me until the ambulance arrived… that was him, wasn’t it?” I don’t know why I’m asking. It makes perfect sense. I’d thought he was an off-duty cop from the way he’d taken control of the situation. He was also the first person to reach me.

  He’d been close.

  Just not close enough.

  Stone-faced, Matteo nods once. “Yes. That was Devon. He’s your protection.”

  My temper flares. “I don’t need protection!” At least I never did before.

  Thinking I’d been involved in a random accident is one thing. Knowing someone purposefully sought me out with the intention of harming or killing me because of who I’m involved with is another matter altogether.

  I’m beginning to grasp the full gravity of the situation I’ve become embroiled in. Being with Matteo means giving up certain personal freedoms. It means allowing myself to be watched and followed wherever I go and never being completely alone. It also means accepting the possibility of becoming a target for anyone with an axe to grind against the Valentini family.

  Am I okay with giving up so much?

  Can I live my life under lock and key?

  “Bella?”

  These chaotic thoughts rush through my mind until my head aches even more than before.

  I… I can’t do this.

  Not now.

  Not with the way I feel.

  “Grace, please talk to me. Try to understand that what I did was for your own protection. It had nothing to do with trusting you. I was trying to keep you safe. You have to understand that.”

  If Matteo’s assumption is correct, his preventive measures turned out to be necessary ones.

  That thought makes me feel sick to my stomach.

  “You should have told me,” I whisper. “I don’t like the idea of someone watching me.” Another painful thought slams into me. “How long has Devon been following me?”

  He holds my gaze and releases a long, slow breath. “Since I decided that I wanted you.”

  That’s not an answer.

  I shake my head, needing more information. “How long, Matteo? How long has this been going on?”

  “Almost a month.” He quickly adds, “You wouldn’t have known had this incident not happened. But he couldn’t leave you there, Grace. Devon’s job is to keep you safe. He’s not there to interfere with any of the choices you make.”

  I glare at him. “But he reports to you on everything I do. Everyone I have a conversation with. He doesn’t work for me. He works for you.”

  Matteo’s silence is telling.

  Yes, I’m an idiot. My voice sounds deadened as I say, “That’s how you knew where I was. You had me followed.”

  “It was purely for the sake of protecting you. The fact that you didn’t know who I was made it more dangerous for you. When you’re here in the condo, I know you’re safe. George watches out for you.”

  I’m going to lose my mind.

  Is he serious right now?

  “George? Why would he tell you anything? Isn’t that against the rules of this building?” I’m angry, and even though I would never do it, I bite out, “I could have him fired for that!”

  “He works for me, bella.”

  “What? No! He’s the doorman, he works for the building.”

  Matteo drops another bomb. “I own the building.”

  I stare speechlessly. The wheels in my head spin out of control as I try to play mental catch-up. One stark revelation after another keeps falling on me. I feel blindsided and lied to.

  Matteo owns Lexington Place.

  Again, it all makes sense.

  I felt so safe moving here because of all the security measures. I felt as though George took care of everyone the same way. But it wasn’t like that at all. Nothing is what I thought it was. That notion is a frightening one. Panic sets in and I inhale a deep breath to stave off the feeling of the walls closing in on me. But it doesn’t help.

  I can’t breathe.

  I need to get away from Matteo.

  Maybe Dominic was right after all.

  Maybe I should have moved in with him for a while and taken my time finding a place. I slide out of bed and make my way toward the floor to ceiling windows. I stare outside, trying to find my bearings.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about Lexington Place?”

  Nothing is what it seems. Worse, I have no idea how much more I
still don’t know.

  He doesn’t touch me, but I feel him step behind me. My entire body yearns for contact with his. I want to feel his strong, protective arms wrapped around me. But I can’t allow that to happen. I can’t allow Matteo to cloud my judgment any more than he already has.

  “It didn’t seem important. I told you that I owned a few businesses and real estate.”

  Drawing in another fortifying breath, I try steeling myself before turning to face him. He’s closer than I anticipated.

  Tears fill my eyes. “Throughout our entire relationship, you’ve kept secrets from me.” What I’m about to say is painful, but nonetheless true. And that’s what hurts most. “You’ve carefully picked and chosen what to tell me. Every so often, you would drop a breadcrumb, making me think that you were opening up and letting me in. But you haven’t at all.” I cut him off when he opens his mouth to interrupt. “And then you have the audacity to dig into my past! Into my life.” Anger tinges every word. “To have me followed!” I shake my head in disbelief.

  Matteo jerks forward to touch me, but I stumble until my back hits the window. I press against the glass in an attempt to evade his reach. A whimper escapes my lips as I cringe. His eyes widen. His face pales, losing some of its golden color. Holding up both hands, he steps away from me.

  I know Matteo would never hurt me. I believe it in my heart, but it’s still not enough. Not after everything that has come to light today.

  Overcome with exhaustion, I whisper, “You should leave. I want to be alone right now.” I massage my throbbing temples. “I need time to think. And I can’t do that with you here.”

  “Grace.”

  It breaks my heart to hear so much agony in his voice.

  “Please, Matteo,” I gasp when he makes no move to leave. “I need to think everything through. You have to give me that. You can’t control everything.”

  With a tortured expression, he reluctantly takes a step away from me.