Chapter 199: Our Women
- LUCIANO -
"Why didn’t you pick a dress for Raya yourself and pack it? You thought of everything else. I’m sure you know her size."
Dex chuckles at the question and runs a hand through his beard without bothering to look my way.
Half his hair is pulled back. He’s wearing sunglasses and another holey shirt that makes him look like a bum. But he doesn’t have a care in the world. I can tell by the ease of his smile while he looks after the two sisters walking away.
How Dex can give over so completely and sincerely to that casual, gentle, carefree nature when there is a monster buried inside of him is beyond me. I’ve never met anyone else like him. All the wise guys in our world—whether they are bosses, underbosses, capos, soldiers, or just associates—have that haunting, dangerous shadow of a look in their eyes even when they are with their families.
I’ve seen that specter of darkness in Dex, but it only surfaces for short spurts of time. Right now, he might as well be a young boy on vacation, completely oblivious to the pains and threats of the world. He almost seems innocent. Blameless. Pure, even. Maybe that’s what real love does. It heals and renews. Or maybe that’s just the result of being sheltered and raised by a loving family.
Dex has his demons entirely under control—something I’m not certain I’m capable of. That’s why I froze this morning when I caught a glimpse of Rory’s true vulnerability. She was wrapped around me, and every one of her defenses was gone—stripped away and laid bare in the soft morning light. I could have kissed her. I could have crushed her.
I’m not careful or gentle. And if I’m not those things, I risk bruising those beautiful delicate petals of hers that only bloom for a select few. God knows they’ve been bruised before.
"All I care about is that Raya is there standing next to me, saying ’I do’ on Saturday," Dex says, pulling me from my depressing thoughts and reminding me of the question I asked. "I don’t care what she’s wearing when that happens. But shopping for a dress with her sister just might be part of the experience for her, you know?"
My attention cuts to the crowd of people where the two sisters are quickly getting swallowed by everyone else. Soon we will lose sight of them. Thankfully Raya has distinctive light blonde hair that sets her apart here.
"What I know," I grumble, "is that our women are wandering off in a foreign country alone, and you’re letting them."
"Our women?" He chuckles again and starts walking leisurely after them—keeping our generous distance, but clearly following the same path they’ve taken.
The tense muscle in my jaw loosens as I fall into step next to him. It’s apparent that I need to give Rory some space and not act like a crazed lunatic about her safety, but if Dex wants to follow his fiancé, that’s definitely appropriate and something I fully support.
"Is Rory aware that she’s your woman?" He asks, clearly amused by my characterization. Dick.
Instead of answering him, I pull my phone out to check on the arrival time of the jet with Domenico, Santino, Dr. Reddy, and his mistress. I’ll feel a hell of a lot better when there are more eyes here.
At least Rory looks physically well today. The panic from discovering she might have a heart condition last night lessened after some sleep and seeing how rested she seems to be.
Maybe Raya was just paranoid about the heart condition. Maybe the fatigue she noticed with Rory last night was just fatigue and nothing more. But it won’t hurt to have a professional here just in case. Medical emergencies abroad are nothing anyone wants to leave to chance. Adequate medical care is obviously not guaranteed abroad.
Whenever Pa travels, it’s always with a personal doctor. Personal lawyer, doctor, cook... everything. I always thought it was a bit much despite the fact that he’s getting up there in age. But being here in Costa Rica, as comfortable as I usually am being spontaneous like this when it’s just me I have to worry about, is suddenly leaving me feeling very... exposed.
"How did it go last night?" Dex asks, this time without the underlying amusement he had before.
"She had a nightmare," I mumble, her screams from last night ripping through my memory as soon as I mention it.
"Yeah." Dex shoves his hands in his pockets. He’s heard the screams from Rory’s nightmares, too. He was the one who told me she was having them after the incident with Lawson. "No shared dream this time? No witches?"
A few people overhear and glance our way, and I glare at them before their attention can stay on us too long. I guess witches entertain the same kind of reputation here as most places.
"I wasn’t sleeping when it happened, so probably no opportunity for sharing. Rory did say I was in it, though."
Dex stops walking. "You were in the nightmare?"
"Yeah."
Tension seems to grip his features before he starts walking again, and my eyes are immediately seeking out Raya’s hair.
"What was it about?" He asks.
"I don’t know. She said I got hurt. She was pretty shaken up about it."
"They’re not going to stop, you know." Dex sighs.
"What?"
"The dreams."
"How do you know?" I glare at him and then my phone when it vibrates in my hand.
Our jet will be landing in a few hours. I told Domenico and Santino that they should act like lovers so no one catches on that they’re my men, and the idea isn’t going over too well. But if Rory knows I’ve brought soldiers of ours to watch her, she won’t like it. In fact, she’ll fucking hate it. I know she will.
’We can pick up a few broads when we land if there’s acting involved,’ Dom’s text reads. ’I’m not acting like I want to fuck Sonny. Shoot me.’
’Broads are too much distraction,’ I type back while I’m chuckling to myself. ’This is a working trip.’
’I can’t do it.’ Dom replies next.
’It isn’t a negotiation.’
That’s all I have to type, and he’ll understand it’s an order. Dom and Sonny are good guys. That’s why I chose them. I would trust them with my life, and that’s not the case with every one of our soldiers. They might be good for certain jobs, but not everyone earns the level of trust that these two have.
Still, I can’t erase the grin at imagining how pissed Domenico has to be right now. This will be entertaining.
"I know the dreams won’t stop, because that’s how it was for us," Dex says, returning my attention to our conversation. "They didn’t stop until we were sleeping together."
"Sleeping together?" My brows shoot up.
"In the same bed," he warns, that specter of darkness rising behind his eyes. I think I know the reason for its appearance this time, but I try not to be pissed that he’s warning me from crossing the line with Rory.
"What do you think I am exactly?" I growl. "A fucking predator who would twist this into an excuse to fuck her?"
"I don’t know what’s going on with you two, but she’s obviously dealing with a lot of trauma and you are... obsessed."
"Obsessed?" My anger flares. "How is that exactly?"
"Really? Flowers, security, a guy sitting outside my house during the day, sleeping on the deck outside her cabin..."
"Cabina," I growl, correcting him—only because it’s a petty fucking thing to do, and I’m pissed as hell that he’s calling me out on shit that he, of all people, should understand. "Are you not obsessed with Raya? With protecting her? With keeping her safe? Did you not request Don Saul to have his guys kidnap your fucking brother and teach him a lesson instead of doing it yourself?"
"Keep your voice down." His jaw grinds, but he stares straight ahead at the two girls we are stalking. "Yes, I’m obsessed with her. She’s going to be my wife. That’s not exactly your intention here, is it? It’s different."
"It’s not fucking different." It comes out in a dark, threatening snarl. "Don’t ever assume shit about me. I made a vow. I keep my vows. And despite what you and Raya obviously think about me, I’m not going to hurt Rory."
"Just remember that the tighter your grip is, the more likely you are to do just that, Luci."
It takes several heated exhales before I can finally breathe through the anger and not see red pulsating in my vision. Because he’s right. I hate that he’s right.
"What was your point?" I ask, casting my glance out into the crowd, trying to focus on something else—the upbeat, vibrant atmosphere. The friendly people. The good feeling this place gives despite the suspicions that guide my attention, seeking out shadows and lurkers and hidden threats, always instinctively preparing for the unexpected. "About these dreams not stopping. You warn me not to get too close, but then you say..."
"I’m not warning you not to get too close," he sighs, raking a hand over his face. The wariness is back. The exhaustion. Gone is the boyish, carefree Dex, and I almost feel bad that I’m responsible for his disappearance. "I guess I’m just protective of her, too. She feels like a sister. I’ve heard her screams at night. I’ve seen her terror. I feel guilty about what happened with Lawson, and the last thing I want is my cousin... making it worse."
"I’m not making it worse." I’m trying to make it better. Isn’t that obvious?
I think about what Dex said, though—about the dreams stopping for him and Raya when they slept together. And then my thoughts flit back to this morning, waking up after the most restful sleep I’ve had in a long time. Rory looked peaceful, too.
Maybe just my presence alone is the remedy to her nightmares. A peculiar warmth blooms inside my chest at the thought.
"I’m the antidote," I whisper with a slow, satisfied grin.
Dex slaps me on the shoulder. "I’m sorry," he sighs. "There is definitely something bringing you two together. And if it’s the same thing that brought Raya and I together, that’s powerful. Just, you know... be careful."
I glare at him, but I know he’s right. I was just thinking about how I’m not gentle. I’m not good.
I can be my version of good, though. Hopefully that’s the good Rory needs. If not... then maybe she can teach me. I’m willing to learn, and I have a feeling there are a few things I can teach her, too... aside from how to pull a knife.
