Hold Me

“My parents?”

He nods, looking down at me. “Yes. That’s why I called them here. We all need to talk.”

* * *

“The Sullivan crime family?” My dad’s voice rises incredulously. “You’re telling me that the men who attacked my daughter are part of the mob?”

“Yes,” Julian says, his face hard and expressionless. He’s sitting next to me on the couch, his left hand resting on my knee. “It’s something I discovered last night, after we returned from the hospital.”

“We need to go to the police right away.” My mom leans forward, her hands clenched tightly in her lap. “Those monsters need to pay for this. If you know who they are—”

“They’ll pay, Gabriela.” Julian’s gaze turns to steel. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

“It’s because of you, isn’t it?” my dad says savagely, getting up in a sharp motion. “They came after you—”

“No,” I interrupt, shaking my head. I’m still reeling from what I just learned, but if there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that for once, Julian’s business is not at fault. “It was random, Dad. They had no idea who Rosa and I were. They were just”—I shudder, remembering—“just doing it for fun.”

“Fun?” My dad stares at me, his features tense with anger as he sits down again. “Those assholes thought hurting two women would be fun?”

“Well, technically, they wanted only Rosa,” I say dully. “I just happened to intervene.”

Julian’s hand tightens on my knee as he glances in my direction. For the first time this morning, I see a flash of fury behind his emotionless facade. I have no doubt that he blames me for this—for using my birthday to manipulate him into going to that club, for trying to rescue Rosa on my own.

For losing our child . . . the one I didn’t even know I wanted until it was too late.

I have no idea what my punishment will be, but whatever it is, it’ll be more than deserved.

“We have to go to the police,” my mom says again. “We need to report—”

“No.” This time, it’s Julian who rises to his feet and begins to pace in front of the couch. “That wouldn’t be wise.”

“Why?” my dad asks sharply. “This is what civilized people do in this country. They go to the authorities—”

“The authorities are in Sullivan’s pocket.” Julian stops to give my dad a harsh look. “And even if they weren’t, we might as well send Sullivan an email saying who we are.”

“Right.” I jump to my feet, ignoring the pain in my sore muscles. Finally, my sluggish brain connects all the dots, and I realize why Julian brought my parents here. If the man Julian gutted last night is indeed the head mobster’s son, then my husband isn’t the only dangerous criminal out for vengeance. “Mom, Dad, we can’t do that.”

My mom looks startled. “But, Nora—”

“It will be best if the two of you come visit us for a bit,” Julian says, walking over to stand next to me. “Just until we get this situation sorted out.”

“What?” My mom gapes at us. “What do you mean? Why? Oh.” She abruptly falls silent. “You did something to one of those men last night, didn’t you?” she says slowly, looking at Julian. “You don’t want them to know who we are because . . . because—”

“Because one of Sullivan’s sons is dead, yes.” Julian might as well be corroborating the weather report. “They’ll be looking for us, and when they figure out who we are, they’ll come after you and Tony.”

My mom visibly blanches, and my dad rises to his feet. “You’re saying the mob is after us?” His voice is filled with angry disbelief. “That they might attack us because . . . because you—”

“Killed one of Sullivan’s sons for trying to hurt Nora, yes.” Julian’s voice is the coldest I’ve ever heard it. “We can worry about casting blame later. For now, since I don’t want Nora grieving for her parents, I suggest you notify your employers of your upcoming vacation and start packing.”

“When are we leaving?” my mom asks, her face pale as she stands up as well. “And how long will this vacation be?”

“Gabs, you’re not seriously thinking—” my dad begins, but my mom places her hand on his arm.

“I am.” My mom’s voice is steady now, her gaze filled with resolve. “I don’t want this any more than you do, but you’ve heard about the Sullivans. They’re bad news, and if Julian says we’re in danger—”

“You trust this murderer?” My dad turns to glare at her. “You think we’ll be safer with him?”

“Than here with the mob seeking vengeance? Yes, I think we will be,” my mom retorts. “We don’t exactly have many options, do we?”

“We can go to the police or the FBI—”

“No, Tony, we can’t, not if what Julian says is true.”

“Well, obviously he would be against going to the police—”

As they argue, I feel my headache intensifying. Finally, I can’t take it anymore. “Mom, Dad, please.” I step forward, ignoring the pounding in my temples. “Just come with us for a while. It doesn’t have to be forever. Right, Julian?” I glance at my husband for confirmation.