I glance over to find a hardness on my husband’s face that turns my stomach. “You think Henry and my mother’s killer already knew each other?”
“Put it this way … records show zero unidentified activity on my father’s phone. If your whole operation was falling down around you, would you call the man who put you in charge of it, or a turncoat marshal you’d just met?”
Owen blows out a heavy breath. “I have a bad feeling the blindsides aren’t over, Gianni. In fact, I think they’ve just begun.”
“I agree, which is why I’m tripling Becca’s security.”
I spin toward him. “The hell you?—”
“A new threat has crossed state lines, so you’re now on a twenty-four-hour alert,” he continues, cutting me off as if I’m not there. “If she calls, you go immediately.”
It’s like I’m a prisoner all over again. I understand Gianni’s fear and the need for extra precaution, but he has to understand my need to breathe. There has to be a middle ground.
“Don’t I get a say in?—?”
“Understood,” Owen says, avoiding my eyes with a curt nod. I cut him an accusatory glare, which he deflects by staring down at his wrist. “Wow, itislate. I should go.”
“Your watch is on the other arm, genius.”
He shoots me a tight smile which I answerwith a middle finger.
After the door closes behind him, Gianni and I engage in a battle of wills, stretching a tense beat of uncomfortable silence into several awkward seconds. I shuffle from foot to foot, convinced we’ll be standing here when the sun comes up, when he lets out a weary sigh.
“I’m not trying to control you, Doc. I’m just doing everything in my power to keep you safe. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.” He closes his eyes, his posture slumping. “I’d become … something else.”
He doesn’t have to say the words. I know this man on every level. I know every twist of his thorny vines. Even the ones he tries to hide.
“Gianni, listen to me…” I take a half-step closer, craving the solace of his arms, but not daring to touch. He’s pulled too far inward. I can throw a lifeline, but he has to be the one to grab it. “No matter what happens to me or to us, you will never be your father. I don’t care that you share blood or who raised you. Even at your darkest, you’re nothing like that man.”
“My butterfly,” he murmurs, reaching out to stroke a lock of my hair. “You see me how you want to see me, not how I am, and that’s precisely why I can’t lose you. You keep me grounded. You keep the man stronger than the monster.”
“You give yourself too little credit.”
“And you, too much freedom.”
“You’re punishing me for calling Owen?”
“Not for calling Owen,cara mia. I’m angry because willfully ignoring instructions and going rogue at this stage could get you killed.”
“Did you really have to use that word?” I grumble.
A low chuckle rumbles in his throat as he pulls me to him. I inhale sharply, absorbing the moment, the calmness, andhim. “Just promise me you’ll always keep yourphone on you.”
“Why?” Tilting my head back, I gaze up at him. “Does it have a listening device implanted in it?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
I raise an eyebrow. “GPS?”
“No, I don’t need one.” I have no clue what that’s supposed to mean, but I’m too exhausted to question it. “I just need the peace of mind of knowing you can do exactly what you did tonight in the event of an emergency. I’ll raise every level of hell to get to you, but it may not always be in time. That’s why you have two backups.”
I feel my face fall.
Right.Two backups…
Owen and Anton.
One who just risked everything to come clean…