Page 28 of Baratta's Darkness

Baratta has been gone for five days. The morning after he left, it felt strange to wake up alone. That is when I knew my feelings for him are real. I have never missed having a man in my bed before. I haven’t heard from him this whole time either. No text, no calls, nothing. I’m starting to get worried.

It has been an unusual five days. One of my celebrity clients snuck into town for some work, so I had to close the shop to the public. Lily has been more jumpy than usual, plus I keep seeing Wolfsbane club members everywhere I go.

The strangest thing though is that I haven’t got any pictures from my mysterious photographer the whole time. Is it weird that while Baratta was here I received pictures almost every day but now that he’s gone they've stopped?

Since I couldn’t open to the public while my celebrity guest was here, I was able to close up early tonight.

I’m sitting on the floor in my living room playing tug with Bleu when I hear someone stumbling up the stairs to my apartment. I know it isn’t my brother, he would’ve called first and Baratta never makes noise. He’s like a damn ghost.

Grabbing my gun I quickly deposit Bleu into his crate. Crouching down behind the sofa, I have my gun aimed at the door when I hear a key in the lock.

Moments later Baratta staggers in. He has blood running down the side of his face. I put the safety back on the gun and drop it on the couch before rushing over to him.

Upon seeing me, he says “Fiona” then topples over. I can’t catch him because he’s so much bigger than me but I throw my weight against him to slow his fall. After lowering him to the floor, I lock the door and run for the first aid kit.

I check his body over for injuries but the only one I can find is a gash on his head, so I clean it up. I’m dabbing at it with rubbing alcohol when Baratta starts mumbling. The only words I can understand are airport, car, crash and Fiona.

I shush him so I can focus on the gash. It’s really deep; he’s certainly going to need stitches. I don’t have anything to numb it with but I can do the stitches myself. Growing up in my family, I learned how to do them. It was either that or spend hours in the E.R. with my brother.

Not wanting to get lost in thoughts of the Step Monster I clear my head, and then get to work. It’s a good thing he is passed out or this would hurt like a bitch.

Knowing I can’t move him by myself, plus he wouldn’t want me to call anyone, I cover him with a blanket. I get out some pain killers with a glass of water, leaving them on the coffee table.

Grabbing my own blanket off my bed, I get comfortable on the couch so I can watch over him until he wakes up.

After a couple hours I must have fallen asleep because I feel myself being lifted and carried to my bed. Once he lays me down, he climbs in next to me.

“I missed you.” I say before I go back to sleep snuggled up next to him.

When I wake up the next morning, Baratta is sitting on the side of the bed, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

“Who did you call?” He asks me.

“What do you mean by that? I didn’t call anyone.” He gives me a blank look, almost like he doesn’t believe me.

“If you didn’t call anyone, then who stitched me up?”

“I did!” Now I am getting mad. “Maybe I should have left you there to bleed!”

I head for the bathroom mumbling to myself. “Ungrateful bastard.” When I come out, he’s waiting for me.

“I’m sorry; I didn’t know you could do that.”

“I’m sorry too; I keep forgetting you haven’t known me very long. Some days, it just feels like you have always been part of my life. Can you tell me what happened?”

“Can we please have some coffee first, along with something for my pounding head?”

We go out to the kitchen and I tell him to sit down while I make the coffee. I grab him some meds, handing them to him for him to take. After I fix his coffee, I wait for him to begin.

“The job went well, easy in and out. I stopped off in New Orleans to update Tony and pick up my bike.”

“You ride?” I interrupted him.

“Yes, I’m not in a club or anything like that, I just like the freedom my bike gives me sometimes.”

“I would like to ride with you.”

“I can arrange that.” He says, “But let me get back to what happened. The plane landed around 10 last night and since I didn’t have to wait for a car, I jumped right on my bike and headed here. I was about a mile out of town, when a car came out of nowhere. The shoulder of the road was too steep for me to move over; it just plowed over me and took off.”

---