Page 120 of The Silence Lies

“I’m sorry Gabriella.”

Pain lances through my abdomen, ripping me from the warm safety of my dream. I groan out, but I can’t seem to move. I feel like a lead weight that has sunk to the bottom of the ocean with no hopes of breaking the surface. The longer I stay like this, the longer the desolation sets in.

I vaguely remember gunshots, screaming, and shouting. The images of Sera’s fearless expression stick with me and I’m fraught with another emotion; another reminder of what I lost. The ache in my chest that I’ve tried to ignore for so long throbs harder. I can feel pressure on my hand, but that’s the only sensation. It’s soft and reassuring, but the comfort is pushed aside as another wave of pain burns me from the inside out.

I hiss out, the pressure on my hand tightening.

“It’s okay, I’m here.”

The voice is soothing, broken in a way I can’t really comprehend, but it comforts me nonetheless. There’s a sting in my hand, a coldness seeping through my arm and numbing the pain instantly. I’m grateful for the reprieve, the gentle kindness it offers. It forces me to sink back into the dark abyss of my mind, exhaustion coaxing me there with a helping hand.

It doesn’t last long before the pain returns and the cold sweat wakes me up. My eyes flutter open as the faint shadows dissolve into the sunrise. Pins and needles wrack my body, the burning sensation in my stomach telling me to stay put. There’s no use in moving.

My eyes dart around the room and I realize that I’m back in the pool house, covered by the comforter.

But I’m not alone.

The faint warmth beside tells me as much, adding to the gentle breaths skating over my bare shoulder. Slowly, I turn my head, my throat tightening when my eyes land on Sera.

Dark strands cascade over her face, her long eyelashes fanning out, catching those silent dreams. I clench my fist, resisting the urge to stroke the hair from her face. She’s peaceful, like nothing in the world can touch her right now. And I don’t need to wonder why she’s beside me. I’ve seen it in her eyes time and time again.

“She hasn’t left your side for three days.”

I snap my attention to the other side of me, my eyes focusing on the chair in the darkest corner of the room. But the shadows don’t conceal the man sitting in it.

Luca’s leaning forward, elbows on his knees as he watches us both. A deep frown sets his features in place, and I can only imagine the thoughts running through his head. The last time I saw him was when Sera left the party in a hurry. I remember that much. Knowing him, he’s probably pissed about how this all happened. I hate to say that I feel the same. Not because of the fact I’ve apparently been bed bound for days, but because once again, someone bested us and almost hurt Sera.

“You’re a good man, Giovanni. I wasn’t sure about you at first, but taking a bullet for her…” Luca stands up and makes his way towards me, hovering over Sera’s sleeping form. Stroking a hand over her cheek, I see the unfiltered adoration swimming his features. There isn’t one thing this man won’t do for his leader, and I know that surges deeper than just his loyalty toward her. “I guess actions speak louder than words.”

Sera shifts beside me, her hands cupping mine, a small sigh parting her lips. Of all the times I’ve imagined being beside her, this moment hits the deepest because I know how hard this must hurt her. She feels deeply. She cares so much about the people around her, and it hasn’t gone unnoticed that I’m included in that group now. Maybe that’s why Luca has found himself watching her, while she watches me?

Luca retracts his hand, tucking it into his pocket. “You should know that the men who did this have been taken care of,” he says quietly.

I wish I could believe Fontana. There’s no doubt about the fact he thinks this is handled, but we both know this is only the beginning. They’ll keep coming after her until she breaks or they succeed. There’s no winning for Bianchi, not while the Verdis have their claws in other gangs. No matter what, Sera isn’t safe. We can try everything to prevent harm coming to her, but until the Verdis get what they want or are taken out, it will never end.

Nodding my acknowledgment, Luca glances from me to Sera, his lips thinning slightly. He sighs, seemingly lost in his thoughts for a brief moment. Whatever wars inside of him, he’s struggling to contain it.

He steps around the bed, and I try not to feel like my privacy has been invaded. If anything, I have to rein back the unease because I know he’s here for her, not me. A dark cloud seems to follow him as he leaves, the door clicking shut behind him and cementing the fact that he’s not about to address his inner turmoil.

The bed shifts beside me, and the gentle strokes along my arm join the warmth of Sera’s body as she moves closer.

“He’s still pissed at me.”

I tense up as soon as her soft voice floats past my ear. It’s gentle and sleepy, but it’s still music to my ears. My heart rate picks up, the reality that she’s awake and not moving away from me means more to me than she realizes. Just her presence alone seems to keep me grounded.

“Gio,” she rasps my name. “Who’s Gabriella?”

I don’t answer. My ears ring out at the name, the one I’ve never uttered to anybody who isn’t family.

“Right,” she sighs. The covers shift as she moves away from me, the light suddenly illuminating the room in a soft glow that exposes Sera’s tired features and defeated form. I watch her reach forward onto the bedside table before turning back to me, clutching something in her hand.

I already know what it is without seeing it, and my throat becomes dry and clogged.

“It fell out of your pocket when I grabbed your keys,” she explains, handing me the photo of my daughter and wife. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

Her hand drops from mine, moving off the bed. She doesn’t have to look at me for me to know I’m hurting her with my silence. I want so badly to tell her about the life I once had, the people in my life that made it worth living. I wish I could tell her the same thing I used to tell my daughter; that strength comes from within and I’m in awe of how much she harbors.

I glance back at the photograph in my hand, the perfect image of two smiling faces I adored over and over again. Tears spring and burn the backs of my eyes, and before I can stop them, the words spill out.

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