Mafia love

I didn’t even get involved in the clearing away of those who’d died in our library. Jefferson and Holloway.

I tried not to think about them either. It made me sick that it was them.

Better if it had been Roose who’d turned on me because I wasn’t close to him. Not that I wished Roose dead. Never that. But I was having a hard time dealing with the truth.

Dad shuffled, moving his head, drawing my attention back to him.

His eyes fluttered open, and he looked at me. I grabbed a bottle of water and placed a straw in it, so he could sip and stay in the same position.

“Dad,” I breathed.

There was a rasp in my voice, probably from not talking for hours. I hadn’t seen Luc in about two hours. Not since the doctor left.

I held the water for Dad to sip. He took a small sip and a deep breath after, then reached for my hand.

“You look just like her when we first met,” he told me, trying to smile but failing.

He was talking about Mom.

“People said I look more like you.” I was trying for lighthearted but failing.

“When you were little, amore mio. Bella Amelia, my little girl.”

I wish he wouldn’t talk that way because it felt so reflective and final.

I pressed down hard on my lips to keep from crying, but it wasn’t working.

How I hated to cry. I hated it because for me it was always about sadness. I’d never cried tears of joy. I’d never experienced that emotion people talk about when you are so overwhelmed with joy it makes you cry.

“Dad, please, you have to rest. You should have stayed away and not get involved. Luc and I could have handled those guys.”

He gave my hand a gentle squeeze and arched his lip. “Luc, just Luc, not you. This is not you, and when a man sees his child in danger, he’s not going to stand by and watch like a schmuck.”

“Dad you’re… sick.”

“No, I’m past sick. I’ve gone past that stage, and I accept it. Right now, I’m only trying to be useful to you in whatever way I still can.”

My eyes fell to the blue and gray square patterns on his bed sheets, then climbed up to meet his.

“I wish things could have been different.” That he wasn’t dying; like ten years hadn’t gone by without us seeing each other.

“Me too, but that was for me to fix. There was never going to be any other ending for me, Amelia. I’m a bad person. You know that more than most. I’ve killed mindlessly. I shouldn’t have killed Agent Peterson…” he stated with reflection.

Like always, I recalled that incident. Dad shooting Agent Peterson in his arms and legs, the men carrying him off through the door so Dad could finish him off. Although I’d never seen his end, I knew then how it would happen.

Dad would cut off his head, and he did. I remembered the news story.

That was what had sent me through those doors ten years ago. It sent me through those doors with the mindset to leave forever.

This story, and any remorse he felt, was almost lost on me because it affected me deeply. I understood why he did it, but my soul couldn’t accept it. I couldn’t accept it.

“We… shouldn’t talk about that now. We shouldn’t. You shouldn’t.” I nodded.

“I don’t want to die knowing you hate me.” Sadness filled his eyes.

“I don’t hate you. I never did, even when I told you I did.” Those were some of my last words I’d said to him before I left years ago. I’d told him I hated him, and then begged him to let me go. “I never hated you, and maybe I hated that I couldn’t.”

“I wish I had all those years back to make it up to you.”

“Dad, don’t, just… we can’t live in regret. We both lost a lot, but we have now.” That was me sounding a lot stronger than I really felt.

I squeezed his hand and continued to hold the tears back in.

The door opened, and Luc came in.

I couldn’t help it; my body moved to him before I could even register what I did. I moved straight into his awaiting arms, where he held me and lulled me into the safe haven of him.

“Take her, take her and take care. I’m okay,” Dad said.

Luc ran his hand over the top of my head and kissed my forehead.

Luc took me to my room, sat me down on the bed, and looked around the place first before joining me.

He took both my hands into his and looked straight into my eyes. I didn’t think I’d ever seen Luc look so stern. Normally, there was an opening in the hardness he displayed. It was the place where I could reach him. Felt like it was just for me. Only for me.

“I love you,” he told me. His voice was soft and soothing, unlike the hardness in his expression and the tenseness in his jaw.

“I love you.” I would never get tired of telling him that, and I would relish the sound of him telling me too.

This time though…

This time felt different to when we said it before. Only the other night, my heart couldn’t have felt more joy, and my soul soared through to the heavens at the declaration of this man’s love.

This time when he said it, I felt that air of change again. The same change I’d felt before I found out who he really was.

Things were going to change again, and not for the good.

“I…” I didn’t know what to say to him. There was so much to say, but where did I begin? With the stab of betrayal I felt knowing Jefferson and Holloway would have fed me to the lions for money? The sting, the poisonous sting of hurt that coursed through me as I listened to Jefferson tell me how this fucking plan rolled out?

Or should I talk about how I felt now, knowing they were both dead?

“I saw you dance today.” He smiled and rubbed his thumb over the top of my hands, which looked so small in his.

This was so unlike what I thought we’d talk about, but this man knew me. He knew how to reach me.

“You did.” I blinked several times, still trying to hold the tears back.

“You were amazing. You never cease to amaze me.” He released my hand to brush the underside of my cheek. “I love you for that. I’ve never said those words to anyone. Just my mom, who never deserved to hear it.”

I searched his eyes and felt the love he spoke of even more.

“Me neither. I’ve never said those words to anyone either, just my parents.”

“No?” The hint of a smile that flickered across his face broke through to that place I could reach.

“Just you.”

“So, I guess that’s settled then. I’m more than the dog with mange.”

Just like the first time when he joked about that I felt bad at the comparison. He thought my feelings for him were comparable to what you’d feel if your dog had manage. You can’t stand the sight of it but you love it enough to keep around.

I sucked in a breath and held on to it, still trying to hold the tears in.

“You aren’t like a dog with mange. I always knew how I felt about you, and it didn’t matter who you were.”

He cupped my face now with both hands. “Me for you too, Amelia.

From the minute I first saw you. I love that you can switch into this angelic

being of purity and everything amazing to create something so beautiful.

But your strength is like nothing I’ve ever seen too.”

“I don’t feel strong, Luc.” My lips trembled.

“You think you don’t feel it, but it’s there, deep inside you. Goddess, amore mio.” He leaned in closer and pressed his head to mine, brushing his nose against mine.