Page 118 of His Dark Vendetta

“You and me both,” Vinnie said and ushered me to the bar. Luca lay on the pool table on his stomach, and Enzo helped Dr. Levine with the lights. “Lucky for us…”

I huffed and sat on one of the stools. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey sitting on the bar next to a glass beaded with condensation and poured a splash over the half-melted ice. He lifted the bottle in my direction and cocked an eyebrow.

I placed a hand on my belly. “I can’t.”

He glanced down at my hand, snorted, and shook his head. “Fucking Luca.” He shot back his drink and poured another.

“Argh!” A strangled scream tore through the bar. I jumped, horrified by the sound, and looked over my shoulder.

Marco blocked my view of the pool table, cell phone still held to his ear. He shook his head.

“Better keep your eyes over here, sweetheart,” Vinnie said. “You don’t want to see that.”

I nodded even as Luca let out another tortured scream. I rifled through my purse and found my Tums. I popped two in my mouth and tried to focus on chewing and not the impromptu surgery happening behind me.

My hand went back to my belly and rubbed it in slow circles. I wasn’t safe. My baby wasn’t safe. The day’s events reinforced what I’d already decided—I needed to leave Boston.

The truth about Luca’s reaction to my pregnancy and the revelations about his true nature changed nothing. They didn’t change how much I wanted to have a family, and they didn’t change my decision to raise this baby in Ireland on my own. If I needed to feed or be fed upon or both, I’d do it, but I’d do it where we wouldn’t be shot at in the middle of a Wednesday afternoon.

I loved Luca. Always had. Always would. And after today, I knew he loved me too. But that changed nothing. Love wouldn’t keep me and my baby safe.

A hand landed on my shoulder and squeezed. Marco. “It’s done,” he said. “He’s in the break room down the hall.” He tipped his head in the direction of the short corridor on the other end of the bar. “After he’s done feeding, Paulie will drive you to Terme. You’ll spend the night there with Anna.”

“But—”

“This is not open for discussion, Siobhán,” Marco said, his voice raised. “I need to know you’re safe, and Terme is the best place for that until we can figure out what the fuck is going on.”

I clamped my mouth shut. Now was not the time to argue, and it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to spend the night with Anna. I hopped off the barstool.

“Go,” he said and kissed the top of my head. “He needs you.”

Luca sat in the middle of a couch, his back to the door, left shoulder and head resting against the cushion. His skin was clean, and a square piece of medical gauze covered the wound on his right shoulder. He was pale—paler than before—and his chest rose and fell with slow, regulated breaths.

Dr. Levine stood behind the couch, furiously typing on his cell phone.

I sat on the couch facing him and ran my fingernails through his hair. “Hey.”

He swallowed and lifted his eyes to meet mine. “Hey.”

“How are you?”

“I’ve been better.”

“He needs to feed,” Dr. Levine said and shoved the phone in his pocket. He walked around the end of the couch and raised an eyebrow. “I’ll let you to it, but don’t wait so long next time.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Luca said.

Dr. Levine snorted. “Nice meeting you…”

“Siobhán,” I said.

“Siobhán.” He reached into his back pocket, retrieved his wallet, and pulled out a card. “Call or text me if anything seems off, but he should be fine once he isn’tstarving.” He aimed the last word at Luca.

Luca chuckled and winced.

“Later, buddy,” Dr. Levine said and made for the door.

“Later.”

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