Page 30 of Hidden Rocco
Mica tilted her head. “I saw how you enjoyed our simple cake. So I ordered my favorite for us to share.”
And it was probably mouth-wateringly delicious, just as she was. He bowed his head. She had more than he’d ever have. Of course she'd order her favorites. Tonight might be a fun date for her but at the moment it was like he was enjoying his last meal.
One night with Mica was worth risking everything for.
“Is there anything special you want to eat?”
She beamed like she commanded sun to shine in the daytime as she said, “No, you can surprise me. I’ve surprised you plenty." Giving him her cell phone she said, "If you need to call your mom… use my phone. I never set up the landline as that seemed unnecessary till opening. I don’t care if you call out of state or country.”
“Thanks, Mica.” He wasn’t sure what else to do. No one would suspect Mica's phone number in relation to Rocco, even if the police traced every call.
He pocketed the phone, but she headed him off to the door and took the cake from the delivery man while he stayed watching Jacob, and her backside as she accepted her cake.
Unless…they tracked Mica down, and found him at the chalet, and then she might be in trouble. He picked up Jacob and returned to the kitchen.
Food first. But if he didn’t call his mother, then his entire reason for escaping prison meant nothing.
With Jacob on his hip, he used one hand and added the already prepared beef, potatoes, carrots, peas, onion, garlic, tomatoes, thyme, turmeric, parsley, and bay leaves to the slow cooker and turned on the beef stew.
This would be better than the slop they called stew in prison.
He cleaned the dishes and meal prep was done. Mica put the cake in the refrigerator, took Jacob from him, and silently pointed toward her phone in his pocket.
It was time.
Mica left and he opened the window so he’d breathe fresh air while he spoke—his going to jail had been so hard on his mother.
It wasn’t enough.
The phone in his pocket heated his thigh. He had to talk to his mom. He would keep the call short. He meandered out of the kitchen to the courtyard, glanced up at the birds and dialed her home phone.
Hopefully she hadn’t changed her number, but he wasn’t sure until she answered and he heard her voice as she said, “Hello?”
Tears formed in his eyes. “Mom.”
“You’re okay?” Her caring tone was the same she’d used when checking his forehead for a temperature.
He closed his eyes, wishing he could hold her and bring her to a hospital, and not be on the run. “I can’t let you die because of me.”
She became even more serious. “It wasn’t you. We both know Roger-”
“He’s gone. He can’t hurt you anymore.” He remembered how his brother had towered over them when he’d been a teenager and Rocco only ten.
Roger had been rough until Rocco returned from boot camp.
His mother cried. “He was my oldest boy. But I should have stopped him from hurting you.”
The day he'd knocked both Roger and Harry down, when they used to tag-team him, was one of the highlights of his life. Now they were both dead and his mom needed to live.
She had to be well. “When I’m able, I’m coming to you. I need you to be there when I get there.”
She sighed and started, “I- I’ve seen the news. Rocco you shouldn’t have done this because of me.”
“Get your cancer treatment.” She had reasons to live. More reasons than he did. She had options to do whatever she wanted. “I need you there when I’m truly free.”
She sniffed and then said, “I can’t afford it anyhow. And what happened to you is my fault.”
Money. The Hellsworths never had much, but if he stayed employed at the chalet, maybe Mica might pay for his mother's care, and he could work for her under the radar until the debt was paid.
