Page 75 of Sin and Redemption

Luca and Matteo exchanged a look. “According to Nino Falcone, it could be Artur Mikhailov, the second son of the current Pakhan in Chicago.”

I raised my eyebrows. “So he needs a territory for his second born once his firstborn takes over as Pakhan in Chicago?”

“Looks like it. It’s rumors, but considering that Adamo Falcone is married to the Pakhan’s daughter, I would bet my money on it.”

“That’s something that might make our life easier in the future,” Matteo said. “But for now, protecting the vulnerable is at the top of our list.”

“Too many of our women have suffered for our sins,” Amo said bitterly.

I grimaced. That was the truth—a bitter pill to swallow.

Sounds of distress, labored breathing, and whimpers woke me from my sleep. Sheets rustled as Sara twisted and turned, caught up in another nightmare.

I reached for her, then hesitated, wondering if the reality of having me here would be better than her nightmare. I shoved that thought aside. Sara and I had come a long way from the start of our marriage. I wouldn’t allow nightmares to ruin everything.

I touched her arm, but she was too caught up in the throes of her dream. “Sara,” I implored, gently shaking her. “Sara, honey, wake up.”

I turned the lights on and shook her a little harder until her eyes finally popped open, and she looked at me. At first, she was disoriented and far away, but then she slowly saw me. She released a shaky breath and relaxed.

“Another nightmare,” I told her as if she didn’t know.

She nodded. “Yeah. A bad one.”

I’d never asked her for details. I could imagine what those nightmares entailed.

She scooted over to me, surprising me.

“Do you want me to wrap my arm around you?”

“Yes.”

I pulled her against me and drew in a deep breath, realizing I’d missed her closeness. How could I miss something that I’ve only experienced for such a short time? “The worst nightmares are always…”

I didn’t want to know, but I would never stop her from sharing what bothered her. “When it’s Jabba on top of me. He’s like a phantom of my past that I can’t shake off.”

I peered down at her crown of hair. “He’s dead.”

“I know. But my brain doesn’t care. In here”—she tapped her temple—“he’s still very much alive.” She peered up. “You aren’t the reason for my nightmares, just so you know, okay? It’s always Jabba taking center stage.”

I cleared my throat and gave a terse nod. “I wish I could kill him in your dreams as well. I wish you weren’t alone in this.”

She smiled faintly. “I’m not alone. Sleeping beside you has made things so much easier.”

I kissed her temple. These words meant the world to me.

A couple of days later, I woke to the sound of soft footsteps. I sat up and reached for my gun but plopped back onto the cushion upon seeing Sara in the glow of her cell phone.

Confusion filled me. Why was she up? Did she have another nightmare? I hadn’t heard her having a bad dream.

“What’s wrong?” I rumbled.

“That’s what I wanted to ask. You’ve been tossing and turning all night. I went to the kitchen for a cup of tea because I couldn’t sleep and wasn’t sure if I should wake you.”

“Just a lot on my mind, nothing of importance,” I lied. I didn’t want Sara to worry unnecessarily, but the news of Jabba’s father being on a quest for revenge really got to me. I had to protect Sara no matter the cost.

She narrowed her eyes. “If it’s not important, then why does it disturb your sleep?”

That was the problem with us being closer now. It was harder to keep certain things from her. But this was too triggering for her. “I really can’t talk about it.”

---