Page 22 of Mafia Doctor's Secret Baby

She nods—and, as if finally realizing that she’s still touching me, she draws her hand away from mine, letting it fall to her side.

“Okay,” she replies. “Okay, I think I can work with that.”

“Good,” I murmur. “Anything you need. You or Polly. You hear me?”

She nods again, and glances away from me—it’s clear she’s ready for this conversation to be over. Though I know I should be gladthat it is, there’s still a part of me that wants to go to her and ask her to come back to my place, just so we can talk a little more.

“I’ll…well, I hope I have no reason to speak to you soon,” she offers, with a little laugh. I return it, though I know it’s hollow.

“Yeah,” I agree, as she turns to leave. “Yeah, let’s hope we don’t have to see each other again anytime soon.”

Even as the words come out of my mouth, I know I don’t mean them.

Because I want to see this girl again.

Even if it means getting both of us in trouble in the process.

9

KATIE

I twitch the curtains,peering down onto the street outside. My eyes dart this way and that, searching for anything that seems wrong. At a glance, it might look as though everything is in its right place—but I know better.

I drop the curtains and pace back and forth along the living room floor of our new apartment. Polly is asleep, thank God, but I am anything but, and I know it’s not going to be easy for me to get any rest this evening.

It started when we went out grocery shopping earlier in the day. I’m not going to pretend that I’m not a little paranoid, after everything that I found out about Luca. He might have done everything in his power to convince me that there’s nothing for me to worry about, but I don’t buy it, I just don’t. It’s all too convenient—sure, he might want to tell me that he can protect me, but the people who are working against him would play as dirty as they need to in order to get what they want.

So I’ve been looking over my shoulder a little more than I might otherwise, keeping watch for cars that seem to turn up more times than they need to, for people who don’t look as thoughthey belong. Nothing has really sparked my attention—until today, in the grocery store, when I noticed a man in a dark jacket following us around.

At first, I told myself that he was just traversing the aisles the same direction I was, that there was nothing to worry about, that we would split up soon enough and I would laugh to myself about how silly I was. But as I pushed Polly up and down the aisles, he was there at every turn—and more than that, he was watching me.

There was no mistaking it for anything else. No, the way he looked at me, it was clear that he wanted to drink in every moment of my presence. But why? It didn’t look like he was checking me out, and he barely paid attention to Polly in her stroller.

I paid for my stuff and left—and sure enough, when I turned around, there he was, right on my tail. I made it to the side street next to the store, where I paused for a moment to catch my breath. That seemed to shake him, but as I made a break for it back to the apartment block, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were being watched, and I wasn’t sure what it would take to make me feel better.

It's been hours since I got back from the store, but I can’t stop peering out of the window. I don’t know what I’m expecting to see. Someone with a gun? Someone watching me? Someone videoing me, taking pictures, sending them back to another person as intel? I don’t have a clue what to expect, but then, I’ve never been in a mess as big as this one.

As I sink down onto the couch for a moment and catch my breath, my mind drifts back to what Luca said to me the other day. That, if I needed anything, he could come by my apartmentand see to it that I’m okay. Or he’d send his brother to do the same thing.

I guess I could take him up on that, but…

But there’s a part of me that knows I risk a whole lot if I bring him over to my apartment in the middle of the night. I’m not entirely convinced I can be around him without acting in some way that’s obviously against my own self-interest.

There was a reason I confronted him in the parking lot of the hospital, even though I know where his office is. I didn’t trust myself not to make a mistake I couldn’t take back—and I know that, if I let myself get physically involved with this man, it’s going to be a whole lot harder to extricate myself from him when he finally leaves to go back to his normal life…

A sound from outside makes me jump. I leap to my feet and rush over to the window, pulling the curtain aside so I can see what’s going on. Shit—it’s just a man getting out of his car, slamming the door a little louder than he needed to. I close my eyes and press my lips together, trying to will myself to pull it together. I need to get my shit in line; I need to handle my nervousness. I can’t let Polly grow up in an environment that’s so toxic with my anxiety. It’s not fair on her…

Before I know what I’m doing, I reach for my phone. I don’t know what exactly drives me to do it, but I don’t have any choice. I need him to be here with me right now. It’s the only way I’m going to be able to get any sleep tonight. He doesn’t have to see Polly—we don’t even really have to talk—I just need someone else here, to convince me that everything is going to be okay.

My fingers shaking, I fire off a text message to him—asking him to come over, because I felt like someone was following meearlier in the day. It’s the middle of the night, the dark shadow of blackness hanging over the gloomy sky above me, and I don’t expect him to get back to me fast. He’s either on shift or sleeping, and neither of those are exactly conducive for a quick?—

And then my phone pings. I glance down—it’s a text from him, already.

On my way over.

Just like that. I stare at the message for a moment, trying to make sense of it. He’s really just dropping everything to come running to my aid, even before he knows anything is really wrong. I feel a little twist of guilt in my stomach, worrying that I’ve done this when there’s nothing for me to concern him about. But I soothe myself swiftly, shaking my head. He told me I should reach out to him if I needed anything. And right now, I do, whether that man was following me or not.

I continue to pace, intermittently pausing to pull the curtains back and look outside. I don’t know how long he’s going to be. I don’t know where he lives. Somewhere fancy, most likely. These criminal families are always super-rich, right? That’s why they do it in the first place, to make themselves obscene amounts of money…

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