I watched the car disappear on the horizon, whirling up dust. Fuck.
Slowly, I looked back down to the kid sitting on the dirty towel. He was covered in a fine sheen of dirt, which clung to him because he’d broken into a sweat after he’d been moved from the cold inside the car to the heat outside.
He had dark hair that curled above his temples and at the nape of his neck. Only Adamo had curls in our family. But maybe this was her heritage. She’d looked like she didn’t originally hail from France but rather North Africa or maybe the Middle East.
I didn’t even know how old the kid was. Fuck, I didn’t remember much from party nights. He looked really small, definitely under one.
My head felt like it was going to explode, and not just because the kid didn’t stop bawling. I wasn’t sure if he was crying because his mother had taken off without another glance at him, though I could hardly imagine that she deserved to be missed by him. Or because I scared him.
I glanced back at my own car, half tempted to take off as well. What was I supposed to do with a kid? I sighed and rubbed the back of my head. It seemed to be getting hotter by the minute, and sweat trickled down the nape of my neck. A small body probably had a harder time against the sun.
I stepped closer to the kid, and he cried harder. I got down on my haunches like you were supposed to do with scared animals, but the kid cried still harder. Not that I had expected anything else. Most people cried when I pretended to be sympathetic.
“Shhh,” I said. But the boy didn’t even react. Usually, I shushed in a very different context, mostly to mock my victims.
I picked up my phone and called the first person who came to my mind to save the day in a situation like this.
“Isn’t it enough that you follow me everywhere?” I hadn’t been sure if she’d even pick up, but trust Rory to have a too big heart even when she tried to hate me.
“Rory, I really need you to come to the abandoned car yard.”
Silence on the other end.
“I’m not meeting you in the middle of nowhere.”
I smiled. Maybe she finally understood that she should stay away from me. A little too late. “What’s that sound in the background?” she asked, her voice dripping with concern and suspicion.
My crying son. Fuck, I really couldn’t believe it.
“I need your help. This is serious. I can’t call anyone but you. I’m fucking desperate.”
“What—”
I hung up. Maybe if she thought I was lying in the desert bleeding to death, she’d come running. Though she had every reason not to care. Knowing Rory, she would help. She was too good.
I stuffed my phone back into my pants pocket, then glanced down at the still crying boy, though his volume had reduced considerably. His voice was becoming hoarse, and his hiccuped breathing was causing more breaks in his cries.
“Listen, buddy,” I began, but the kid only stared at his dirty feet and kept crying.
Who was I kidding? Nothing I’d say would calm the kid. I bent down and grabbed him under the arms and lifted him off the hot ground. He froze in my hold like a baby gazelle the second before the lion broke its neck.
Without a word, I carried the kid to my car and put him on the back seat. I turned on the AC but made sure it wasn’t too cold, then closed the door. I would have loved to sit in the cool inside too, but his cries were starting to grate on my nerves. I would have thought I was used to human screams by now, but his bothered me. Maybe because I had no way to stop them. Well, I wasn’t willing to use the methods I usually employed to shut people up.
I leaned against the side of my car, hoping Rory’s helper syndrome would bring her here quickly. If she didn’t show up… Fuck, I’d have no choice but to call Alessio and Massimo, but then what? Alessio would probably insist on finding the boy’s mother, and Massimo would insist on taking him home to Vegas. There was no way in hell I was doing either.
Rory didn’t disappoint. Thirty minutes later, her car pulled up. She hesitated a moment before she got out. The amount of relief I felt when she got out was alarming.
She’d always seemed like a beacon of light, but today, she trumped even the aurora borealis.
Aurora
I wasn’t sure why I was here, why after everything, I was on my way to Nevio because he supposedly needed help. Maybe this was a new form of his game. Maybe after weeks of stalking me despite my more or less clear rebuke, he wanted a change of pace. See me run to him again.
I had almost convinced myself to turn around when I pulled up in the car graveyard where trunks and hoods of cars peeked out of the earth as if they were undead and about to rise again. Nevio leaned against his car. Nobody else was around, and again, I wondered whose cries I’d heard before. They had tugged at my heartstrings in a way I couldn’t quite explain. If Nevio had called me here to help him dispose of someone, I’d run him over with my car and finally be free. Though knowing Nevio, he’d still find a way to haunt me from the other side.
With a monumental sigh, I got out of the car and put my sunglasses on. It was always easier to battle with Nevio if he couldn’t look me in the eyes. I still wasn’t immune to his power. Kissing him definitely hadn’t helped, though it hadn’t changed my feelings, only my level of desire.
His eyes just held a certain amount of power that always grabbed you by the throat. I knew I wasn’t the only one who had trouble resisting his eyes, but for most people, their fear and primal flight instinct got in the way of feeling any real draw to him.
I made my way over to him. He straightened, and the relief on his face surprised me. “Why am I here?” I congratulated myself silently for my hard tone. Luckily, I was furious. Running him over with my car was still one of the options I entertained.
“Because you want to help me,” Nevio said with a twist to his mouth that only fueled my anger.
“I’m done,” I growled, so mad at myself I felt a little sick. I turned on my heel to stalk back to my car. A hand clamped around my wrist.
“Don’t go,” Nevio said firmly. Then a tad softer. “I really need your help with this, Rory.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. Part of this was curiosity, but the other part definitely involved me being unable to say no to Nevio, even now. I let out a sigh and turned back around, then tugged my hand from his grip. “If this is a trick…”
“It’s not.” He pointed at his car. “I’ll show you.”
Maybe he really needed help burying someone.
“I won’t help you dispose of a body.”
Nevio let out a chuckle. “I’d call Massimo or Alessio if I needed help with that.”
He led me toward the back door and opened it. I hesitated briefly, still suspicious of his motive, but then a new wave of cries hit me. I peeked inside and took a stunned step back. In the back seat sat a small boy with dark, slightly curly hair, only dressed in a diaper. Snot ran out of his nose from crying, and from the sound of his wails, a little raspy and choked, he had been doing so for a while. My heart clenched.
“Where are his parents?” I demanded. A sinking feeling told me Nevio had killed them and then noticed the little child. I could only hope the boy didn’t have to watch.
“I didn’t kill them if that’s what you’re insinuating.”
I moved closer to the boy. “Shhh, it’s okay.” The boy briefly glanced my way with a look that made it clear he knew I wasn’t telling the truth. I froze because something about the boy’s eyes and even his features were familiar. They weren’t as sharp as those of the man beside me, but there was no doubt in my mind that this kid in front of me was related to Nevio.
I swallowed, then glanced up at Nevio. “He’s yours.”
“Massimo would say a human being can’t legally be anyone’s possession.”
I glared. “Did you sleep with the mother?”
“It’s a possibility.”
“You don’t remember?” I chuckled and shook my head. He hadn’t remembered sleeping with me either, so why was I even surprised. Ignoring the infuriating man beside me, I leaned into the car and picked up the crying boy. He didn’t stop crying and barely reacted to my presence, but I kept rocking him, hoping to calm him down eventually. I turned back to Nevio, who was watching me with his hands in his pockets.
“How many more kids have you fathered?”
“Fuck, you think I know? You know how I partied.”
“…and fucked,” I added, even as the word made my cheeks heat.
He partied hard and fucked even harder, his trademark motto, one I’d never really understood until that night.
“I don’t anymore,” he said, but I ignored his comment. I didn’t want to know what he did when he wasn’t trying to make me miserable.
“What about the mother? Where is she?”
“Ran off.”
“What’s his name?”
“I didn’t ask.”
“And I don’t suppose you have a way to find his mother and ask?”
“She’s probably halfway to Mexico by now. I might have tried to kill her a little.”
“How can you kill someone a little?”
“She’s still alive.”
I stifled a nasty comment and drew in a deep breath. “He needs a name.”
“Call him Kid, or choose whatever name you think would fit him.”
I ran a hand through my hair, torn between wanting to help this boy (and some stupid part of me, even Nevio) and wanting to let Nevio feel the consequences of his actions for once.
I cradled the little boy gently against my chest, my heart aching for him, for what he’d been through and what lay ahead of him. He put his cheek against my chest and let out a shuddery breath as if he’d been waiting for the moment he could let go of his distrust. I stroked his back. His body was dirty and soaked with sweat and, from the smell of it, urine. At least, he looked well-fed, so maybe his unwashed state had more to do with him being out here in the desert than how he’d been treated since birth. I hoped it for him. “He needs to see a doctor to make sure he’s okay.”
“You want to be a nurse, so can’t you check him? I can’t see any obvious injuries.”
I glared at Nevio. I would have screamed at him if I hadn’t held the obviously shell-shocked little child. “I did two internships. I haven’t taken any courses, and even if I did, most of them don’t cover small children. Their bodies handle many things differently than we do. He needs to see a pediatrician. I don’t care if this complicates things for you, Nevio.”
Nevio narrowed his eyes, probably because of my tone, which was still tame to the tone I actually wanted to use right now, then he nodded. “I’ll take you to a pediatrician. But he can’t be linked to the Camorra, so I’ll have to do research.”
“You want to keep your son a secret?”
Nevio’s expression stilled when I said “son” as if he hadn’t allowed himself to think of the boy as such. Nevio certainly wasn’t the most empathetic person on this planet. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand other people’s emotions. He just didn’t care, but this, seeing his own child, must do something to him. At least I hoped it did.
“I don’t want my father or the rest of my family to know.”
I had figured as much or I wouldn’t be here. I’d carried secrets before. “So you call me? You really think I’ll help you?”
Nevio looked at the boy, then back up at me. “What am I supposed to do with the kid?”
“How old is he?”
He gave me a blank stare. “I thought you’d know. You used to babysit Adamo’s kid.”
“From looking at him? He’s your kid. When did you sleep with his mother?” I laughed, realizing how ridiculous the question was. “Never mind.”
I looked more closely at the boy. He obviously couldn’t walk yet but he could sit on his own. Even though I’d watched Roman, I wasn’t an expert on little kids. I would have guessed he was between eight months and a year old, but only a doctor would be able to tell. Unless Nevio found the mother and figured out the boy’s birthday. “So what’s your plan? How do you expect me to help you in this situation? You’re not thinking about giving him up for adoption, right?”
“No,” he said immediately. “I don’t trust strangers.”
“Then what?” I asked. If he didn’t want help from his family who would definitely gladly raise the boy, then what was there to do? He looked at the boy for a long time, his dark brows puckered, then he looked up at me. I’d never seen him like this, a little lost and almost scared of the small boy who hung limply in my arms.
Then it dawned on me.
“You expect me to take care of him? Like a mother? Have you lost your mind?”
