It’d been when the first skin graft had failed to take, and I’d thought I’d have to live with open wounds and the constant fear of a fatal infection for the rest of my life. None of us had ever partaken of these drugs before—Varassos were sellers, not users—and I knew precisely what the side effects of it could be. Yet, I didn’t care.
The agony I’d been going through had been beyond what I could ever hope to describe, and the thought of never having any alleviation from it had nearly driven me out of my mind. Luckily for me, the next skin graft did take, renewing a tiny bit of hope for my future.
There didn’t appear to be a lot of hope in this neighborhood, though. One turn away from my destination sat a graffitied street corner with trash in the gutter. I was sorely tempted to not go into the complex at all. Even though it wouldn’t be practical, and would also probably freak her out, bringing Kelly home with me seemed far preferable.
At least then I’d be assured that no one would jump her on the goddamn front porch.
I stole peeks at Kelly frequently, gauging her reactions. She didn’t seem bothered or embarrassed at all by where she lived. Instead, she came across to me as very matter of fact about it, as if this was simply the way things were in her life.
“You can let me off here. I’ll walk the rest of the way.”
“No,” I told her in no uncertain terms. “I’ll take you right to your door.”
Now that we were inside the fenced walls of her apartment complex, the environment improved slightly. The place might not be the Taj Mahal, but there was no litter in the gutters and the façades, while forlorn and in need of paint, weren’t delipidated to the point of having boarded up windows or being condemned.
It didn’t give me much solace, but it was something.
I did as I’d told her I’d do and brought her as close to the door of 555C as possible. When I stopped, she twisted toward me in the passenger seat. “Thank you for taking me home,” she said. “I hope you can get some rest and feel better.” Then she did something I could never have predicted. She brushed her lips across mine. “See you at work.”
Kelly hopped out and darted along the short sidewalk up to her door. She unlocked it, gave me a quick wave of her hand, and disappeared inside.
I touched my fingers to my lips, a little dazed. It’d only been the most fleeting of kisses, an innocent peck that had likely been nothing but a gesture of gratitude from her, but I could still feel the warmth of her lips against mine. It had caused a tingle to radiate outward from the point of contact, making me want more.
Making me want her.
I hadn’t experienced such a reaction from a mere kiss in all my life. For a second, it’d almost made me forget about my burns, about the pain I was in. Almost.
I hadn’t had sex with any woman since the fire, hadn’t had the most miniscule of inclinations in that direction. Since my back still resembled an overcooked piece of meat, getting naked with someone hadn’t appealed to me at all. The notion hadn’t even entered my brain.
Yet one swift peck from Kelly Carr and suddenly a healthy dose of some naughty-bad-fun sounded good again. Better than good. Amazing.
Even if it was currently impossible.
All the way home I fantasized about her doing more to me than that one kiss. It enabled me to sidestep the stinging sensation I was experiencing, to muffle it, to keep its volume down to a low roar. I entered the mansion and made it up to my room without anyone realizing I was home. Then, I stripped everything off from the waist up, went into my bathroom, and squinted at my reflection in the mirror.
Christ.
I’d been right. I’d torn a section of my most recent s
kin graft loose on my left side, exposing the red unprotected layer of what I’d learned to call subcutaneous tissue. No wonder it’d been searing like a sonofabitch.
I stepped out of my room, intent on seeing if Greta could do anything about this or if I’d need to go back to an actual surgeon, when Molly appeared in the hallway. Wearing a white terry cloth robe, she carried the bundle of my nephew on her shoulder, bouncing with him and patting him on the back as he fussed.
“Marco, I didn’t know you were up.”
I did a brusque about-face, hoping to keep her from noticing the damage I’d done. Although Molly wouldn’t try to tell me what to do—that’s not how the hierarchy worked—she was technically married to the man who might.
Luca had seemed hesitant to let me go back to running errands like I used to, but I’d convinced him I was up for the challenge. If he knew about this, he’d relegate me to off-duty status again. And I was going stir crazy being cooped up all the time. I needed to get out of this house and away from anyone wearing a white coat or scrubs for a while.
My eldest brother was the patriarch of our clan and a much more equitable and even-handed leader than our father ever had been. I appreciated that fact, and unlike Angelo, I knew Luca gave a damn about me. So did Sandro and Gabriel. Hell, Molly did, too, for that matter. Unfortunately, that also meant they seemed to delight in sticking their noses into my affairs.
Especially where my health was concerned.
But I knew how to handle this. The best defense was always a good offense. “Antonio okay?” I asked her.
“Yeah, he’s fine. Just needs to burp, and I didn’t want to wake Luca or Anna. Where are you going?”
“To the gym.”