“And you couldn’t even successfully kill Connor. I saw him get away!”
“I know. We could have killed Connor if…”
“If?” I ask.
“If Dante had gunned down everyone, including you. But it was because I asked him to spare your life that Connor isn’t dead. We couldn’t just start shooting. It would have killed you.”
I breathe heavy as I take in Matteo’s words. “Your war would be over if you had just gunned us all down.”
“I know but I’m willing to risk a million wars if it means you’re in my life.”
I stare at Matteo in shock. He really means this. He’s really trying to protect me. I feel bad for doubting him now. He’s still on my side but it’s clear he’s now torn between me and his job.
“What are we going to do now?” I whisper, all of my energy gone.
“Now, we go into hiding. Just until I can figure out a game plan.”
“So, taking me wasn’t part of the game plan?”
“No. It definitely wasn’t.”
I’m not sure what to say to that so all I say is nothing.
Matteo brings me to a ranch style house an hour out of the city.
“What is this place?” I ask.
“It’s a safehouse. Only Dante knows about it. We should be safe here.”
“What if Dante tries to hurt me? You said it yourself: if it weren’t for you, he would have gladly killed me.”
“Dante is just tired of all this fighting like the rest of us. Once I explain to him what happened, he’ll understand. Let me get you inside.”
“You could take me back home to be with my family.”
“But if Connor survived, he’ll just come for you. I can’t sit back and watch him hurt you. I just can’t. Ask anything else of me but that.”
I look into Matteo’s face and take in all the passion and anger and hunger written there. He means what he says. He just wants to protect me and I can’t fault him for that. I want to be protected by him.
“Ok. Let’s get inside. Your arm is still bleeding anyway.”
The house is cute inside. Decorated in soft browns and tans with a little bit of red and pink, it makes the whole thing look like it came right out of the pages of a magazine.
“Your doing?” I ask, nodding to all the furniture.
Matteo chuckles, which quickly turns to a wince when he grabs his wounded arm. “Dante’s wife, Nadia. She decorated it.”
“Your arm. Let me look at it.”
We settle into the bathroom with a first aid kit. I blatantly look at Matteo’s chest once he takes his shirt off. It’s a sight I’ll never tire of.
But right now isn’t the time for ogling him. It’s for helping him with his wound.
His shoulder is a mess. Bloody and disgusting. I wrinkle my nose. “Matteo, you’re really hurt. You should go to a doctor.”
“No time. Check to see if the bullet is still inside or not.”
I look at his shoulder blade and see an exit wound. “I don’t think it’s inside of you any longer.”