“This is getting heavy,” he said with a cocked eyebrow. I stepped back, and opened the door wider. He passed by, and I closed the door after finding nothing and no one else in the hallway.
He put the box down slowly and opened the lid. My eyes widened in surprise. Inside was Battista in his carrier, fast asleep. “You put him in a box?” I asked.
Nevio motioned at the holes he’d put into the cardboard as if this was for a cat or bunny. “It was only for a few minutes. I put him in there in the parking lot across the street, then walked over here. I didn’t want to risk anything on the premises.”
Carlotta approached us with obvious curiosity and peered down into the box like I still did. Her eyes widened comically, and she slowly turned her head toward me. “There’s a baby inside the box.”
“Thanks for the heads-up,” Nevio said, but his voice was less cocky than usual. His hair was tousled, and he was sweaty. It seemed like being alone with a nine-month-old was too much for him.
Carlotta still stared at me, her eyes growing even wider. “There. Is. A. Baby. In. The. Box.”
I bent down and carefully picked up Battista. He briefly stirred but never opened his eyes as I pressed him to my chest.
“What’s going on?” Carlotta asked, her eyes narrowing on Nevio who shoved his hands into his pockets as if it wasn’t his job to explain the situation. If he thought his job was done here, he was very wrong. I would help him and Battista, but he would be part of this. He wouldn’t just keep on living as if nothing had changed.
“I have another box with his things in the car. I’ll pick them up,” he said and left the apartment without another word, leaving me alone with a very upset Carlotta.
She flung her arms up. “Aurora! What is going on? You’re my best friend, but if Nevio kidnapped this kid, I won’t just stand by and watch.”
“He didn’t kidnap him, Lotta, I swear.” I sighed.
Carlotta stared at the little boy and shook her head.
“You can’t tell anyone about this,” I told her. “Not even our families. No one.”
“He’s not yours, that’s for sure,” she said and her lips thinned. “I know only one person who’d mess up like that and then ask you for help. Fits that he’s the one who brings him here in a cardboard box.”
I shrugged. Of course, there was only one possible suspect in this case.
She moved closer and looked at Battista, who I cradled in my arms so his peaceful face was on display. “He’s Nevio’s son, isn’t he?”
I nodded because I didn’t want to lie to Carlotta. I needed her help with this. “Yeah. He found out about him yesterday. His birth mother dropped him off with Nevio because she doesn’t want to take care of him.”
Carlotta’s expression twisted with contempt. “I’ll never understand how a mother can abandon her child.”
I shrugged. I didn’t know the exact circumstances. What made me angrier than the fact that the woman had decided to give away her son was the fact that she hadn’t taken very good care of him before then.
“And to hand him over to a madman like Nevio?” Carlotta shook her head and scoffed. “He’s the last person I would put up with the task of watching a helpless child.”
“He’s not that bad.”
“He is. And he’s irresponsible.”
That was true. Nevio lived for the thrill. Of course, he took responsibility when it came to the Camorra, but many of his tasks were directly linked to activities he loved: torture and killing.
Carlotta lightly touched Battista’s small hand and her expression softened. She loved kids and would definitely help me with him. When she looked back up at me, her expression was less gentle. “Why is he here?”
I grimaced.
Carlotta threw up her arms again. “Rory!”
“Nevio doesn’t want his family to know about this. He didn’t even tell Massimo and Alessio yet. He has nowhere else to take him. And he knows he’ll be safe with me. It’s just until he’s figured out another solution.”
Carlotta pressed her palm against her forehead, slowly shaking her head. “You should tell on him, Rory. I know you think you need to help him to unleash his humanity, but we both know that won’t work. He’s a mess, and you should stay away from him.”
“You never said it like that before.”
“Because I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, but this is about more than just your feelings, Rory. This boy needs a family.”
“I know,” I said. “But he lost his mother already. I don’t want to rob him of any chance to have a father. If I tell the Falcones about this, Nino and Kiara, or Remo and Serafina are going to adopt him. It’ll be easy for Nevio to pretend this isn’t his problem, to just let others become caregivers for his son, but if I care for the kid for a while, Nevio will always know it’s only a temporary solution, and he’ll eventually have to step up and own up to his responsibilities.”
Carlotta shook her head. She couldn’t seem to stop. My own disbelief over the situation was still strong so I understood her only too well. “You know Nevio, do you really think that’ll happen? How is this going to work? You’re starting your internship with the doc in a few days, but a baby needs twenty-four-hour supervision. If you don’t want to tell anyone, that leaves only us. I’m not even going to take Nevio into calculation.”
I bit my lip. “My work at the Camorra’s clinic allows my schedule to be flexible. I’ll try to work shifts at night or in the evening. And I still have two weeks before I’m even supposed to start working there.”
“But he can’t be alone.”
“I know,” I said. “Nevio can watch him on occasion, and…” I gave her a sheepish smile.
Carlotta pursed her lips. “And I can take care of him when Nevio can’t, so always?”
I sent her an apologetic smile. I knew I was asking a lot. “I’ll try to do all the work, and it’s only going to be for a few weeks. I’ll kick Nevio’s ass as often as possible.”
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I can keep an eye on him some nights when you work.”
I hugged her. Another knock sounded and Carlotta pulled away and stalked toward the door. She opened it with a little more force than necessary and gave Nevio one of the darkest looks I’d ever seen on her face. It didn’t faze him in the slightest, judging from his unimpressed expression.
“Do you have a room where I can put his stuff?” Nevio asked, directed at me.
“I suppose my room. We don’t have a nursery since we didn’t plan on having children over,” I said, letting my own annoyance shine through. I motioned him to follow me as I headed for my room. It was moderately sized. Carlotta and I had wanted a small apartment, but it was still bigger than most rooms on campus.
Nevio began unpacking everything, then put together the crib. He positioned it beside my bed once it was done. I released a low breath, reality sinking in. While I had experience babysitting Roman, I’d never been solely responsible for a baby. His parents had always been a call away if I had questions or needed help. This was different.
Nevio ran a hand through his dark hair, his eyes settling on the baby still asleep in my arms. I was rocking on my heels lightly because it was a move that Roman had always loved, and it seemed to soothe Battista too.
“You’re good at this,” he murmured. “Good with him.” Nevio’s gaze hit me, warm and appreciative in a way I’d rarely seen.
“You can be too if you want,” I said firmly. I didn’t want him to turn this into a natural motherly instinct thing and use that as his way out of responsibility.
Nevio’s lips pulled into a sardonic smile, but he didn’t reply. “Where do you want the rest of his stuff?”
“Everything for his bottles in the kitchen and the changing station in the bathroom.”
I slowly walked into the kitchen and found Carlotta. My parents had stocked our fridge with everything we might need in the next few days. She stared into the fridge but didn’t take anything out. Her scowl suggested the inside of the device had personally insulted her. Her fingers twisted the ancient cross around her neck, which had been her grandmother’s.
Battista stirred in my hold and let out a short cry as his eyes peeled open. Then his gentle protest turned to high-pitched wails. Nevio came in from the bathroom where he’d set up the changing station, looking alarmed. “What’s up?”
“Maybe he’s hungry,” I said, intensifying my rocking, which only made Battista squirm and cry harder.
“You could make him a bottle. Aurora’s arms are full,” Carlotta said with a very tight smile, the cross in her hand turned toward Nevio as if she was trying to keep his evil from her. I doubted she noticed. Nevio shrugged and moved over to the formula we’d bought. He picked up the box and read over the description while the noise level in the kitchen reached headache-inducing volumes.
He cursed when he spilled hot water over the counter, then knocked over the formula and spread powder over himself and the floor. I sent Carlotta a pleading look. I knew Nevio needed to learn how to do this. He needed to step up, but I’d had a long day, and Battista’s cries were too much. She moved to Nevio’s side and took the box from him. After a quick scan of the instructions, she’d assembled the milk bottle within a minute, and I gave it to Battista, who immediately quieted.
Nevio leaned against the counter with a dark look and gave me an I-told-you-so look. I shook my head. “This doesn’t mean anything. Most fathers have to learn how to take care of a baby. It doesn’t come naturally. In a few weeks, you’ll prepare a bottle with your eyes closed.”
I really hoped that his parents were involved by then.
“Shouldn’t he eat solids at some point?” Nevio asked, only briefly glancing at Battista, who still happily sucked at his bottle.
“You can’t feed him pizza if that’s what you think,” I said, then yawned.
Nevio glanced at his watch. It was seven-thirty, and my rumbling stomach told me Battista wasn’t the only one who needed to fuel up on food.
“I’m going to order pizza for us,” Nevio said. “Not Battista, though.”
I just nodded, and Carlotta came over to me, not uttering a protest either.
When we sat at the dining table, she turned to Nevio. “Do you really think you can keep this a secret from everyone? Especially Massimo and Alessio, who are practically attached to your hip. They’ll get suspicious at some point.”
“If you don’t let something slip to Massimo, we should be fine. It won’t be the first time I’m gone for a few hours or overnight.”
Battista watched me eat the pizza with interest, reaching for it several times. Eventually, I put him down on the floor because he seemed eager to move, but once there, he just sat on his bum and watched everything with curious eyes.
Nevio’s phone lit up with a call. Massimo. He pushed the call away. Seconds later, a message popped up.
“What’s up?” I asked, half hoping they’d somehow found out about Battista.
“They’re back in Las Vegas and want to know where I am.”
“It’s on security camera, so eventually someone will know you’re here,” I reminded him, though I was sure he’d taken that into consideration. If Nevio visited us frequently in the next few weeks, Dad would definitely ask why. He’d draw the wrong conclusions.
Nevio shrugged. “They definitely won’t think I’m here because I have a son.”
“Because it’s crazy,” Carlotta said.
Nevio’s phone beeped again. He rolled his eyes. “They can’t be without me.”
“Well, they’ll have to learn to get by now that you have more responsibilities away from them,” I said.
Battista began to squirm again and to rub his eyes.
“I think he needs to go to bed,” I said.
Nevio rose to his feet. “I’ll let you handle it. Better I go to Alessio and Massimo before they start looking for me here.”
“Aren’t you going to help me put him in bed?” I asked pointedly.
“I doubt he wants that. He still looks at me like I’m going to eat him.”
Battista indeed watched Nevio warily. “Most children are wary of unknown men. If you spend more time with him, that’ll change.”
Nevio stayed, but he looked more uncomfortable than I’d ever seen him. Unfortunately, Battista proved his point and kept rousing from slumber to eye Nevio wearily. Eventually, I told Nevio to go, and he did so without hesitation.
Battista fell asleep soon after Nevio had left. I stayed beside him for a few more minutes before I left the room. With Roman, it had sometimes taken more than an hour to get him to fall asleep, but Battista was obviously used to falling asleep alone.
To my surprise, Nevio was still in front of the door. I’d have thought he had already left to meet with Alessio and Massimo. I wasn’t, however, surprised that he hadn’t gone back into the kitchen to spend time with Carlotta. Her Nevio tolerance was very low today.
He simply leaned against the wall, his face tipped forward, dark strands falling over his eyes. I’d often wondered how it would feel to run my fingers through them, to tug him toward me and feel his own fingers raking through my hair. I paused with my hand still on the doorknob, but now the sight reminded me of the night when everything had changed. My belly clenched as it always did when I thought about it, but the emotions weren’t quite as raw as they used to be. Maybe this was a sign.
“He’s asleep,” I said in a quiet voice.
Nevio looked up, his eyes narrowing as they settled on mine. He nodded slowly, still with the same confused and thoughtful expression on his face. Nevio pushed away from the wall and approached me. I held my breath, not even sure why.
Nevio stopped in front of me, raked a hand through his hair, then gripped the dark strands. His face twisted with conflicting emotions. “Listen, Rory. I know I can be an asshole.”
I gave him a go-on look because I certainly wouldn’t contradict him on that point. His fingers curled deeper into his hair, and his expression became even more pained. “I won’t ever forget what you’re doing for me and for him.” He nodded at the door. “You’re the kindest person I know, way too fucking kind for this world.” He smiled strangely. “You have every reason to hate me, and I know you’re really trying, but still you’re here. Thank you.” The last two words sounded as if he had to press them past shrapnel. I supposed saying thank you wasn’t in his standard repertoire.
He cupped my head, and I tensed, my fingers around the doorknob becoming numb from my tight grip. For a moment, we remained like this. I didn’t want to be kissed by Nevio, not today, not as long as my emotions and thoughts were a jumbled mess. Nevio briefly touched his forehead to mine, which felt even more intimate than a simple kiss and took me wholly by surprise.
He stepped back and let go of my head with a strange smile. “I’ll go now. Sleep tight, Rory.” He headed toward our front door, opened it, and then stopped in the doorway. “I’ll be back tomorrow.” The long pause before he uttered those words told me they weren’t what he’d had in mind. He disappeared from my view, and the door clicked shut softly.
I released the doorknob, my fingers prickling as blood flooded back into them.
Carlotta appeared in the kitchen doorway. I wasn’t sure how long I’d already stood like that. “Our first night in our own apartment,” I said. I didn’t want to talk about Nevio. I tore my eyes from where Nevio had been moments before and headed toward Carlotta, who was still hovering in the entry to the kitchen. “How often has Diego messaged you so far?”
Carlotta’s phone binged as if on cue, and she checked it after rolling her eyes. “Now six times since he left, and Antonia twice. Even Massimo messaged.”
“You’d think we moved to the other end of the world,” I said with a laugh. I wanted the tension gone. I wanted tonight to be about us girls and our silly dreams of freedom. “Let’s chill on the couch and watch some TV.”
“You should check your phone first. While you put Battista to sleep, you got about a dozen messages. Your dad will be back in no time if you don’t reply soon, and then we’ll have a hard time explaining the Battista situation to him.”
I giggled. “A nine-month-old is definitely not something he expects to find in my room.” I grabbed my phone from the kitchen table. Carlotta was right. We couldn’t risk someone coming over unannounced. Carlotta followed me into the living room, and we settled on the couch. I began answering all texts.
Carlotta was quiet, probably still mulling over our situation. I felt guilty for dragging her into this.
“What about Battista? Will we hear him?” Carlotta asked after she’d turned on the TV.
Our apartment wasn’t very big, so I thought his cries would carry over to us.
We both listened for a moment, but it was absolutely silent. We leaned against each other and watched for a bit. I had trouble focusing on anything, so we chose some trash TV that didn’t require any form of concentration.
Maybe forty minutes later, Battista’s cry made me jump. I got up and hurried into my bedroom. He was sitting in his bed, crying. His pacifier had fallen out and landed on the floor. I picked it up and put it back in his mouth, making shushing noises all the while. But he didn’t stop crying. I picked him up and began rocking him when Carlotta came in with a bottle of milk. I gave her a grateful smile. Battista only took a few gulps from the bottle before he began crying again. I wasn’t sure what he wanted. Not food or his pacifier, and his diaper wasn’t full either.
“Maybe he’s just confused because he’s in new surroundings.”
I nodded. “I wish I knew more about his past.”
“I hope his future will be less dramatic than his past has been,” Carlotta said.
I released a small sigh and stroked Battista’s soft hair. He quieted a bit but still sounded distressed.
“Maybe I should go to bed so he’s not alone. I’m tired anyway.”
“I can hold him while you get ready for bed,” Carlotta said. I gave her a grateful smile and handed Battista over to her. She began singing to him in her beautiful voice, but even that only briefly stunned him into silence.
I grabbed my pj’s and rushed into the bathroom. After ten minutes, I returned. I stretched out on my bed with Battista by my side. Carlotta moved his bed against the mattress so he couldn’t accidentally fall out of bed in the night.
“I still think you’re crazy for doing this, but I’m glad to know that you’d be by my side if I ever got pregnant by accident,” Carlotta said with a hint of irony.
“I would definitely help you if you ever accidentally slept with Massimo and got pregnant,” I said with a small laugh.
Carlotta made a face and closed the door, cloaking Battista and me in darkness. I rubbed his back for a long time, and eventually, he fell silent. I was no longer tired. I felt too anxious. What qualified me to become the main caretaker of a possibly traumatized child?
“Why am I doing this?” I muttered, then glanced at the helpless kid beside me. His soft breathing was reassuring. He needed me to do my best for as long as there was no better solution. I hoped Nevio would figure out something fast. The longer Battista stayed with me, the more he’d get used to my presence and then be ripped away again.
My phone lit up with a message. I was glad I’d muted it.
Of course, it was Nevio. Nobody else would message me this late.
Thinking of you. I’ll bring breakfast in the morning. Sleep tight.
I would have found his message sweet under different circumstances. I was pretty sure some of my fantasies from the past included late-night texting with similar messages.
I can’t sleep. Angry with you.
I turned off my phone. I didn’t want to chat with him now. He was probably driving around with Massimo and Alessio, looking for new victims so he could extend his back tattoo, and I was here with his son.
