Page 14 of Matteo

My sigh of relief is almost painful. The lingering pain from the…he said it was strep throat. Him, Dr. Castillo. I turn to find him watching me closely from the hallway.

“Do you want to get back to bed, or are you ready for something to eat?” He isn’t whispering, but his voice is low enough not to disturb Layla.

I shake my head. I want to stay with Layla, but the only other thing in the room is a changing table and an empty bookcase. There’s no bed or even a rocking chair.

Beneath the bright light in the hallway, he’s somehow bigger, with muscles bulging. After the last year of Danny’s abuse, fear is a reflex. I edge into the hall and step back from him. Yet I don’t go back into the room I was sleeping in.

He notices my fear. “I’m not going to hurt you or Layla. You need a place to recover and help with Layla while you’re doing it—that’s all.”

“Why?” I push the word out.

In the harsh light of day, all I can do is trust what is before me. Going on feel could end in a painful lesson. I never thought Danny would hurt me.

I don’t trust the way he hesitates before shrugging. “You needed help, and I’m here.”

“Why?” I press him.

His head goes down for a heartbeat. “I think I needed to take care of someone the way I wish someone took care of me.” My chest hurts from the raw honesty in his words. “And Layla,” he chuckles. “How could anyone look at her and not want to give her everything she needs?”

Something eases in me. He cared about Layla. It’s coming back to me, him saying he took other patients home with him before. That had to be why I felt safe with him—especially with how large and muscle-bound he is.

Oh my god, he did carry me. As if I were nothing, and I felt so safe in his arms. It’s enough for me to go back into the room I was sleeping in. I have no idea why, despite sleeping for what my body tells me is a long time, all I want is to sleep again.

“Rest. You let yourself get run down. It’s going to take a few days of sleep before you feel better.” Did he read my mind?

I’m climbing into bed with a yawn when he turns the light off. I don’t even have to tell him to leave the door ajar.

This is an amazing dream. A man as stunning as Matteo Castillo could only be made in dreams. He wasn’t perfect. His broad forehead had deep furrows that matched the wrinkles around his golden eyes and wide mouth. While his nose is big, it fits his face. I don’t trust his jawline and cheekbones are real. They had to be taken from those comic books I read when I was a kid. All of those hard and sharp features weren’t anything I dreamed of before…so is he real?

My last thought is wondering how I’m going to go back to the motel after sleeping in a bed that feels like a cloud beneath silky soft sheets and a comforter. As I fall asleep, it’s to the memory of the doctor carrying me. His strong arms were gentle and made me feel so protected and safe…the last thing I thought a man could make me feel after Danny.

Matteo

I linger outside the room in case Amy needs me for anything else. Once I hear her soft snores, I exhale.

Closing my eyes, I swear long and low. The bastard hurt her. I make it to the office. Pulling up my email, I search for a response from the security contracting company. A report is already waiting.

I glance at my watch. It’s a little after six in the morning, and the report hit my email twenty minutes ago. Opening it, I begin reading and almost wish I hadn’t. I knew from the way she reacted to me someone abused her—that doesn’t make it any easier to read.

Her husband. The word stops me. She hasn’t divorced him. My jaw clenches. She will. Soon.

The fucker, Daniel Richards, tried to file a police report for her stealing his truck. Except she was the owner of record on it. He got belligerent when a neighbor told the police he heard Richards beating on Amy again. Were the cops finally going to do something about it?

He’d gotten pissed at the neighbor and took a swing at him in front of the police. What a fucking moron. When the cops stepped in, he took a swing at an officer. His award for the biggest dumbass in Waco was a night in jail and further charges he wasn’t going to be able to get off on, considering he had previous convictions of assault.

Fuck. His family has money, if not a very good reputation. It’s not as much as I have, but it’s enough to hire a good lawyer. They also throw their weight around the small town of Temple. While they didn’t think highly of their third son. He’s back in Temple and listing their address as his current one. So, they could still be a factor.

I wince at Amy’s childhood, or lack thereof. I’m telling myself to stop reading. The report was only to find out about him. This is what I want Amy to share willingly. Except I can’t. And once again, I wish I hadn’t. To go from such an awful childhood to that fucker. My heart aches for her.

There isn’t much more to the file. I reply to the email thanking them for their quick turnaround and inform them that I have more work for them.

Amy

My bladder kicks me out of bed again. The moment I throw the covers off me, my stomach begins growling. Ugh, my throat hurts badly enough I’m not looking forward to food. It’s not as bad as it was when I went to the clinic, but it still aches to swallow.

Holy crap with this bathroom. There’s a soaking tub with jets and a separate shower large enough for four people. Everything is white marble, porcelain, and gleaming silver.

Out of the bathroom, I see another door open to a walk-in closet—filled with clothes. I wonder whose room I’m in. There’s a note on the island.

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