Page 10 of Keeping My Girl

“Well, I don’t regret what I did because I finally found Selina,” I tell him with anger lacing my voice.

My mom puts a hand on my shoulder and pats gently, trying to calm me down. “I know you never stopped loving her,” she says softly.

She’s right about that. Not a day has gone by where I haven’t thought about Lina. A void has been in my life for ten years. And having her back in my world seems like an impossible dream. One that I don’t want to wake up from if she suddenly disappears again.

“How is she?” Mom asks.

“She’s resting. She had some broken ribs, a punctured lung…” My voice trails off as my hands curl into fists at my sides. “There’s a laundry list of things wrong with her,” I say, my voice hoarse and weary. Fuck, I don’t think I’ve slept more than a few hours since she arrived.

“Well, she’s in a good place for recovery. With the doctors, nurses and therapists on staff here, I’m sure she’ll be better in no time,” she assures me.

Years ago, my parents turned their home into a compound complete with staff and top-of-the-line security. They have been involved with taking down a lot of human trafficking rings, and sometimes the feds couldn’t place all the victims in homes or shelters. My parents took a lot of people in over the years, rehabilitated them, and made sure they had a much better chance at life by the time they left.

They are saints. Well, for the most part. I mean, my father is still a mafia boss and deals in illegal activities and routinely gets his hands dirty. And, you know, there’s that whole pesky business of occasionally murdering people. But I think the good mostly outweighs the bad, to be honest.

They have saved a lot of people from terrible fates. Selina was just one of the many souls that they tried to save. And if it wouldn’t have been for her mother, Selina would have stayed here and lived out her days in peace. We have no idea what happened after she left here, and that just adds to the never-ending pile of questions I have for Lina when she’s feeling better and actually lucid.

“I’m glad Selina is safe now,” my father says, even though he still looks and sounds grumpy as hell.

“Me too,” I agree.

Just then, the heavy door swings open, banging against the wall. We all turn in unison as Selina stumbles into the room. I can hear the wheezing coming from her chest as she looks at me, her eyes narrowing as she accusingly spits out, “You!”

Before I can even react, she collapses onto the floor, gasping for breath. I rush to her side, but she’s already unconscious. Her breathing is labored and the high-pitch wheeze coming from her mouth scares the hell out of me. “Call the doctor. I think her lung might have collapsed again,” I tell them before picking her up in my arms.

With her limp body carefully cradled against my chest, I jog out of the room and up the steps. I race down the hallway with her in my arms. I spot the nurse, Sarah, coming out of a doorway with a caddy full of medical supplies in tow. She looks stunned to see us.

“What happened?” Sarah calls after me as I enter Selina’s bedroom and carefully lay her down on the bed. “I didn’t even see her walk out,” she says with a shake of her head in disbelief. “She had pulled her IV out, and I was just getting some things to clean her up,” she explains.

“It’s not your fault,” I assure her. Sarah is supposed to be taking care of Selina, not guarding her. “They’re calling for the doctor. Try to keep her comfortable until she gets here,” I inform Sarah, stepping back so that she can do her job.

My hands rake their way through my hair as I go to stand by the window. A million things are running through my mind as I pull at the ends in frustration.

The way Selina looked at me, it was as if she despised me. I mean, I did kill someone in front of her. I’m sure she fears me. But what if she never gets over that fear…or worse — what if she hates me?

She obviously has no idea who I am. Hell, she might not even remember me. Maybe I created some sort of fantasy in my head about our time together when, in all actuality, it meant nothing to her.

No.

I decide right then and there that none of that matters. I don’t care if she doesn’t remember me. I don’t care if she even fucking hates me for a while. I will win her trust back no matter what it takes. I still love her. I never stopped loving her. And I’m not giving up on her.

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