Page 56 of Cruel Tyrant

I lean against him and wrap my fingers through his. He’s so warm and he smells so good, and I shouldn’t be thinking about the way his hands feel on my body, but I can’t help it. Even in a hospital at a terrible, low point in his life, I still have stupid horny-brain for him.

“You didn’t do this,” I say, desperate to find a way in through his defenses, because then I might be able to take on some of his hurt.

“But I did.” He looks at me and his gaze is deeply haunted. “I saw Uncle Luciano and I thought I was over it. He’s just a man, an old man now, and I’m so much bigger than him. I thought I could just walk up to him and kill him, and that would be the end of it. No more nightmares. No more panic attacks. I could crush him and heal myself and maybe be a normal man for once in my fucking life. Then I got mad, and I decided to really go for it, and I was exposed. I was stupid, baby, so fucking stupid. I let my emotions get the better of me, and Dad got himself shot trying to save my life.”

I heard a version of that story earlier in the day from Elena. But in her telling, Simon claimed the meeting had been a trap from the start, and Santoro’s men were waiting to kill them the second they walked out on that pier. It was only their own impeccable planning and the chaos of the crowd that kept things from turning into a huge disaster with all three of them dead on the ground.

“You didn’t make Santoro try to kill you.” I kiss his chin and his cheek. I wish I could melt my head into his so he could read my thoughts, at least for a second. “He was going to do what he did no matter what. Your father saved your life because he loves you. You’re not broken, Davide.”

“I should have done something.” Davide blinks at me and some semblance of him begins to fade back into view. “I should’ve been the one jumping on my father, not the other way around. I was selfish, baby.”

“Then you’d be on that hospital bed right now, and you might be dead. I’m sorry your father is hurt, but I’m not sorry you’re safe. You can’t sit here and torture yourself over something you can’t change. You did nothing wrong.”

“I know.” He leans back and stares at the ceiling. “I should be on the street right now killing every single Santoro soldier I can find.”

“That’s not what I meant,” I say, feeling like I’m completely out of control here. The depth of his sadness is almost painful. I want to throw him a rope and reel him back, but I don’t think he’d take it, even if I could. “None of this is your fault. You have to see that.”

“It’s just like it was all those years ago.” He speaks very softly and squeezes my hand hard. “My father came to save me from Santoro again, only this time he didn’t make it back out.”

“He’s going to be okay.”

But Davide doesn’t respond. I lean against him, resting my head on his shoulder, and I wish I could draw away whatever pain’s still causing him to blame himself for everything.

* * *

I finally manage to convince him to head home for a shower and something to eat. But a few hours later, the hospital calls, and everyone piles into Don Bianco’s private room in the far corner of the building guarded by two very large men in conspicuous jackets. The staff ignores them like they don’t exist, and I wonder how much money it takes to get treated like this. But it turns out that we’re in the Bianco Critical Care Ward, and that explains a lot.

Don Bianco is awake and speaking when I arrive with Davide. He instantly goes to his father’s side while I linger toward the back of the group, feeling like an outsider again. Davide’s whole body leans toward his father like an arrow launched from a bow, and it makes me feel a little better seeing him so animated as he touches his father’s arm and speaks to him quietly.

“Good job getting him home for a little while,” Freddie says, coming up next to me and giving me a side hug. “I’m sorry I wasn’t in a good place and couldn’t do it myself.”

“That shouldn’t be your responsibility,” I say and hug her back. “I’m sorry this is happening. I’m just doing the best I can for him, that’s all.”

“He’s a lucky man to have you.” Freddie beams and it fills me with so much warmth I feel my cheeks turn red. “We’re all lucky to have you.” She guides me into the group of Bianco children, and Elena makes room for me without a second glance. Even Laura gives me a slight nod, which isn’t exactly the same as welcoming me with a kiss and a hug, but it’s better than threatening to kill me. It’s like I’ve become a part of them in my own way, not quite an insider, but closer than I have any right to be.

And I like it. I like how close they are, how much they seem to love each other, how much they care. My family’s close too, but my parents are both dead now, and my brothers are busy raising children and loving their wives and spending every waking moment managing the affairs of the Famiglia. I was always an afterthought with them, always standing just on the margins of everything and watching as their lives trickled past.

My brothers love me. I know they do. Only they still don’t know what to do with me.

But here, I’m in the thick of things. I shuffle over next to Davide and he nods to me, the color in his face better than it has been all day, and he puts an arm across my shoulders. I lean into him and feel marginally better as his warmth covers me.

“I might as well make it official,” Don Bianco says from his bed. His voice is weak and he looks so much smaller. Alessandro is normally a big man, vivacious and alive, the sort of man who draws looks and has his own gravity. Right now, he’s barely holding on. “Simon will run the Famiglia. He’s the temporary Don. I’m stepping back until I’m physically healthy enough to retake the role.”

“I’ll do what I have to,” Simon says, nodding to his father.

“Spread my command throughout the Famiglia,” Alessandro says. He sighs and looks at the ceiling, and for a moment, he closes his eyes. I’m worried he’s falling asleep, but he shakes his head, and looks from face to face. He lingers on mine for a moment, and I swear, he smiles.

Everyone’s hanging on his words, the hush thick with suspense.

“There must be an answer for this,” Alessandro says and I notice Freddie’s stricken face. She’s ashen and trembling beside her husband. “I don’t like it. I don’t want to put my family through this. But you are clever, Simon. And you are strong, Davide. With the help of your sisters, I have all the faith in the world that we can go to war with Santoro and crush him.”

Another silence falls over the room. Freddie’s head bows and she crosses herself.

“If only Angelo were here,” Elena murmurs to Davide.

“He’d fucking love this,” he whispers back and grins.

Simon shoots his siblings a hard look and they stop talking.

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