Page 106 of Luca
It offered a taste of what my life would be should someone take them away. I’d never let that happen.
“You need sleep,” I scolded her softly. “Remember, the night shift is mine.”
She rolled her eyes playfully as she padded barefoot across the white plush rug full of pink polka dots.
“I couldn’t resist checking up on you two,” she murmured, her fingers softly brushing our daughter’s raven curls. She looked like her mother, but she had my eyes. Her eyes drooped and she pushed the nipple out with her tongue. It was her sign she was done. Setting the bottle down on the table, I wrapped my arms around my wife’s slim waist and pulled her onto my lap, as I kept our baby pressed against my chest, patting her back to burp her.
“She’s beautiful,” I stated proudly. “Just like her mommy.”
Margaret’s hands came around me, her fingers curling into my strands. “All babies are beautiful.”
“Not like my princess,” I protested jokingly, keeping my voice a whisper.
Margaret’s beautiful lips curved up. “She’s extra beautiful because she has her daddy’s eyes. And probably his temperament.”
“That’s right, she’s perfect,” I agreed.
If she only knew the lengths I’d go for the two of them.
Nonno was still here with us. The threat hadn’t eased. Actually, it has expanded to include attacks on his shipments. So to keep them all safe, I’d suggested we stay in New York a little bit longer. To my surprise, it was my wife who needed convincing. She itched to go back to Sicily.
It was only when Nonno agreed to stay if Margaret stayed that she caved. For his safety.
“My da was the same, you know,” Margaret whispered. When I looked at her confused, she explained. “My brothers said that he always took care of me at night and sang me to sleep.”
Guilt reared its ugly head at her words. It was the remainder of my secret, one that would cost me my wife and child. I could never let her find out.
“I’m not much of a singer, but I can give it a try,” I suggested in a low voice. All the while a tiny voice in my head warned.
“Nah, your stories seem to keep Penelope enthralled.” Her blue eyes rose to meet mine, and I watched all the different emotions pass through them. My wife’s eyes seemed even lighter tonight with white snow clouds and flurries lighting up the night. It’d be a cold Christmas. “Is that what your mom did? Tell you stories?”
A long silence followed and we both focused on our daughter. Secrets, ghosts, and guilt danced in circles all around us, probably taking bets which would cave first. A silent prayer whispered in my mind, hoping to allow my dark secret to go to grave with me. God knew I’d taken my best shot at keeping the veil over my sin, hiding it in a dark corner.
“Yes, she’d tell me stories. From what little I remember. Cassio remembers more and he said in the beginning her stories were happy, but then they turned dark.The Night Before Christmaswas the only one that remained with her until she died. It was the only one I remember.”
“Was she… How did she die?” Margaret asked in a small voice.
“Suicide.” Cassio found her and he forbade me from seeking her out. I went in search of her regardless. Her lifeless body lay slumped in the bathtub full with red liquid. Water and her blood drowning her sorrows. Her dark hair was soaked, floating on the red surface.
Drip. Drip. Drip.“My father finally pushed her too far.”
It only took one bullet to end her life.
Margaret’s fingers tightened around me. “I’m sorry. He was a bastard.”
“I’m sorry too.” She thought I spoke about my father, but I meant it about hers. He was a good man. I might have been a kid when I shot him, but it gave me no reprieve in my guilt.
“After you killed your father, a lot of his enemies came after you.” Her voice was a faint whisper. She was right, the blow back was bad, but it was worth it to protect my sister.
“Don’t worry, they won’t come after you and our baby.” I’d die before I let anything happen to them. I was in this deep. So deep that my hands trembled each time I thought about a life without them. There was no life without them.
“Luca.”
“Hmmm.”
“There was something I’ve never told you,” she whispered. “Something I’ve never told anyone.”
A feeling in my chest grew heavy and I wondered if a shoe would finally drop.
