Page 67 of His Dark Vendetta

Siobhán’s glassy eyes regarded me with concern. She placed a hand on my forearm and peeled my fingers off her neck. “You were shouting,” she croaked and massaged her throat. She pushed the sweaty strands of hair off my forehead. “But it was just a bad dream. You’re okay.”

My chest heaved. Sweat covered my forehead, neck, and chest, and my breath came in short, frantic bursts. I shoved a hand into my damp hair and grabbed Siobhán’s with the other, trying to ground myself and calm the adrenaline rushing through my veins and making my heart race.

“Breathe.” She squeezed my hand. “Just breathe.” Her brow furrowed, and she searched my face. “What did they do to you?”

I shivered and looked away.

“Hey,” she said and inched forward. She cupped my face and turned it back to hers. “It’s over. Whatever happened, it’s over.”

I anchored myself in her pale blue eyes, a light in my empty world, until my breathing slowed and exhaustion claimed me. The close call and the botched job and my haunted dreams were too much. I fought to keep my eyes open, not wanting to lose her, my anchor, to the darkness.

Siobhán let go of my hand and scooted off the bed. “Get some sleep?—”

I rolled onto my side and grabbed her wrist, pulling her back onto the bed. I covered us with the comforter, wrapped my arm around her waist, and snuggled her until her tiny body was tucked into the curve of mine.

She stiffened.

I breathed in her scent. She bought a bottle of that shampoo she used when we went to the grocery store, and she smelled familiar and sweet. Like peaches. I shoved my nose into her hair and nuzzled her neck.

“What did you mean earlier?” she asked.

“Hm?”

“At The Dollhouse. You said they can’t hurt me. That you made sure of it.”

“Just that—I tracked down the men responsible for hurting you. Made sure they were all taking a long nap.”

She lifted her head off the pillow.

“No more nightmares, Siobhán. You’re safe.”

She laid her head back down—“Thank you”—but her body remained rigid.

“I haven’t forgotten you’re a Shaughnessy,” I said into the darkness.

“I know.” She relaxed as if exchanging those words reclaimed our normal.

“I hate Shaughnessys,” I whispered.

She slid her hand down my arm until she found mine tucked beneath her. She interlaced our fingers and brought our arms to rest between the slight swell of her breasts. “I know,” she whispered back. Her soft lips pressed against my fingers, once, twice.

I nudged my leg between hers, bringing her closer. Her breathing slowed to match the gentle and regular rise of her chest beneath my arm. And with the air cleared and my body wrapped around Siobhán, I drifted into a deep and peaceful sleep.

ChapterTwenty-One

Luca

“Have a seat, Mr. Moretti.”

The cop’s sharp tone startled me, and my attention snapped to the counter in the waiting room of the Framingham jail. I’d been pacing the length of the small space for what felt like hours. I glanced at the clock. It had been twenty minutes.

The electrical buzz of the soundless TV reverberated through the silence. The relic was perched high in the corner of the shitty waiting room surrounded by water-stained ceiling tiles. The news was on, but no one was watching, the orange-plastic bucket chairs lining the perimeter empty.

“I’m good,” I snapped and resumed pacing. It was the only way to stem the tide of my rising anxiety, fueled by images and sound bites from the hijacking, the aftermath at The Dollhouse, and the nightmares that drove Siobhán into my bed and into my arms. They flashed in and out of my mind, feeding off my lack of sleep.

The door swung open, and Gina walked in. Her dark hair was arranged in soft waves around her face, not a strand out of place, and her white blouse and navy skirt were pressed with military precision, not a wrinkle in sight despite driving all the way from the North End. Her heels clicked against the scuffed linoleum, and her perfume wafted ahead of her as she approached. The familiar scent calmed my nerves.

“Che cosa è successo?” She glanced around the waiting room. “Dov’è Vito?”

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