Chapter 23: Chapter 23

C H A P T E R T E N

I felt brilliant as I lay in my bed, THE early sunshine touching my eyelids, so I woke up but kept my eyes closed.

I extended a hand and slipped it over my bed at that point.

Falcone had left, leaving just me.

I opened my eyes, moved my hand back, tucked my knees under my tummy, and tucked both under my cheek.

In the kitchen of my home, there were people. I was aware of this since my bedroom was located over the kitchen and I could hear faint mutterings coming from there.

Most likely, this was Melinda and the commandos. She was probably preparing them handmade treats they wouldn't eat and telling them tales about my ex-boyfriends—all of whom, with the exception of Falcone, she didn't tell me she liked until I had broken up with them or they had broken up with me.

Dad was likely in the office. His home had been firebombed, and after battling the fire, watching firefighters battle the fire, and speaking with the police, one of Falcone's boys arrived in an SUV. Falcone loaded Melinda, Dad, Mrs. Bartolome, and me inside, and "Mo" drove Mrs. Bartolome to her friend Erma's house while taking Dad, Melinda, and I to my house. Dad had showered as Melinda and I set up the bed and dragged out the couch in my office. Dad, Melinda, and I all fell asleep at the same moment. Later, maybe just before dawn, Falcone fell asleep next to me. He had cuddled up deeply against me, but I slept off again before I could determine whether or not he was dreaming.

Despite everything, I had a suspicion that Dad was still at work. Dad would go to work, then ask all of his men why they were still at home, lamenting the loss of loved ones and national landmarks as the nation came to terms with a tremendous tragedy, before getting on the phone and calling the whole eastern seaboard. After that, he would urge them to report to the site because work needed to be done.

Even though all he had was a coat and pajamas, he wouldn't let that stop him.

I sighed as I shut my eyes.

Conor Magtanggol, a detective, appeared yesterday night. First he spoke with Falcone, then Dad and Falcone, and then Melinda and I. When he reached Melinda and me, he basically just wanted to make sure we were okay and didn't ask any difficult questions. He gave my arm a comforting squeeze as he gave me an intense (but still deep) look into my eyes, and then he walked away.

Prior to the arrival of the police and Magtanggol, Big Ben had vanished. Falcone declined to accompany us to my house because of this. Falcone headed to where Big Ben was. I didn't know why, so I refrained from speculating. Because I was in a very uncommon Do As I'm Told mood, I didn't retaliate when Falcone was being dictatorial. I carried out all of his instructions perfectly. My family and I traveled to a warm, secure location in his son's SUV, where we were able to settle in and go to sleep.

After having that notion, I looked down at the bed and seen Falcone enter the space. That shocked me. I anticipated that he would be engaged in typical Falcone activities like as clandestinely obtaining intelligence for top-secret missions, questioning suspects in cement chambers without windows, subduing unbelievers, etc.

It also astonished me that he was wearing brand-new Army green cargo trousers and a tight-fitting, spotless burgundy t-shirt. I suppose his men brought fresh clothing. I questioned if Nordstrom's accepted orders and accepted credit. If they did, this would fall under the "should I explore things with Yago "Falcone" Cabrera" category on the positive side.

Falcone's gaze never left mine as he moved to the bed, sat on his side, and leaned in, his body across the bed, his forearm in it, his face near to mine.

"How are you, Sweet Pea?" He inquired gently.

"Could you please do me a favor?" I replied gently.

"It depends," he said.

Figures.

"Can you wait next time you're in a firebombed house to put on a shirt and shoes before you sally forth into the inferno?"

I stood close by as he grinned and his dimples peeked out.

Then his brow furrowed. "Sally forth?"

"All right, you didn't sally; you raced. You understand what I mean."

His gaze shifted to my hair, and I was unable to pinpoint what changed on his face. He landed on his front and supported himself by leaning on the forearm on the other side while raising the other hand. He moved the hair off my neck and stroked his fingers over my hairline and down around my ear. His gaze then turned to me.

They were hot and powerful, just as at dinner last night, so I had to hold my breath.

"Yeah, I know what you mean," he said quietly, and I truly wanted to pull my gaze away from his, but I couldn't. "You were concerned about my well-being."

"You were battling a fire with a pair of cargo trousers," I stated, attempting (and probably failing) to seem casual.

His hot, dark eyes locked into mine for a long time, so long that my lungs began to burn.

"All right, next time I'm in a firebombed house, I'll put on a shirt and boots before I fight the blaze," he remarked.

"Thank you," I said quietly.

"Now that we've gotten that out of the way, do you want to answer my question?" he said. ”

"Which question?"

"How are you?

"I'm all right."

His gaze returned to me for many long seconds before he murmured, "Liar."

"I am," I declared emphatically.

"Gia, darling, you're curled up again in a protective ball."

Shit. I was.

I uncurled and pulled myself up, bringing pillows with me to lie against my headboard. Falcone shifted as well, bringing himself up and in so that his hip was next to mine and his weight was leaning onto his hand on the other side of me.

"Does Melinda live downstairs?" " I inquired.

"Yeah," he said.

"Does she make her own donuts?" I inquired.

"Is that an optimistic or serious question?" he asked in response.

I had to confess that it was encouraging, but only to myself.

As a result, I remained silent.

"No, she's making eggs and bacon," he said, grinning again.

Melinda's eggs and bacon were wonderful, but her doughnuts were much better.

"Do I need to prepare eggs and bacon?"

"Does Melinda live downstairs?" " I inquired.

"Yeah," he said.

"Does she make her own donuts?" I inquired.

"Is that an optimistic or serious question?" he asked in response.

I had to confess that it was encouraging, but only to myself.

As a result, I remained silent.

"No, she's making eggs and bacon," he said, grinning again.

Melinda's eggs and bacon were wonderful, but her doughnuts were much better.

"Do I need to prepare eggs and bacon?"

He extended a hand and snagged a strand of my hair, twisting it before dropping his hand, which I thought was a kind gesture.

Falcone has a lot of potential. Falcone was a con artist. Falcone either saved my life or got me safely out of a blazing building.

All three for the pro side of the Should I Date Yago "Falcone" Cabrera List.

Shit.

That was my thought before he offered a question that would explain why he was being so nice.

"Would you like the good news or the terrible news?"

Great. There was some unpleasant news.

"Can I receive the good news first, and you tell me the terrible news later in the millennium?" ”

"Sure," he said, which I didn't think was a good sign.

I murmured, "The awful news."

His expression became solemn. "Isabelle escaped."

My face, I was certain, became perplexed. “What? ”

"She escaped."

"From where? What about the fire? ”

"And the people who firebombed your house in order to smoke her out."

Oh my god.

"Didn't they firebomb my house to murder her?"

”

"My vehicle was parked at your curb, Babe."

“So?”

"Do you think they'd believe I'd let somebody die in that house?"

I gazed at him with my arms folded across my chest. "I realize you're not a superhero, Falcone, but seriously? ”

He smiled. "You believe I'm a level below a superhero?" ”

Oh my God!

It's time to go.

"I was being facetious," I explained.

His grin widened. "No, you think I'm a step below being a superhero."

"Don't you have any wonderful news to share with me?"

" I asked if I might change the subject.

"Probably that night I gave you the triple orgasm," he continued on topic, and my jaw dropped wide.

Then I snapped it shut, wondering, "What?”

"That night when I performed that thing with my lips and fingers and you were there -"

"I didn't have a triple orgasm, Falcone," I snapped, but I had.

"You did, Babe, I counted."

"No, it was just really long," I explained.

"Gia, don't you think I know when you stop and start?"

"No, I don't believe you do," I shot back.

"It occurs a lot," he noted, and he was correct.

There was one for the Should I Explore Things with Yago "Falcone" Cabrera List's negative side. Falcone was conceited.

“Hello?" I called. "Good news? Or maybe you can explain why Isabelle fleeing is terrible news."

He smiled at me before changing the subject.

"Isabelle escaping is bad news because if I had Isabelle under my control, I could pass her over to Magtanggol." Isabelle was not within my control. Instead, I fought the fire in your Dad's living room."

My brows furrowed together. "Can you give her to Magtanggol?" ”

"The cops are the only safe place for her to be. She strikes a bargain, they reduce her jail term, or if she has half the trash they believe she has, they hand her over to the Feds, who give her a new name, Isabelle Gomez testifies, and she disappears while still breathing."

"The Feds?" " I said quietly.

Falcone's visage softened in response to my whisper and probably the fearful expression on my face. "Babe, you know she's in big trouble."

"Yes," I affirmed, "but what about the Feds?"

"Her crap is serious," he said again and again.

"Damn," I said to myself as I looked down at my lap.

Falcone raised my chin with his thumb and finger until my eyes met his, then lowered his hand and continued. "If I hadn't had her under my control, they wouldn't have made a move for her." They intended to smoke her out and keep me busy. They were successful."

"She was just there for a few moments. Did they have enough time to devise and carry out this dreadful plan? ”

"They're inventive."

That was bad news.

"But she escaped," I concluded.

"She escaped," Falcone confirmed.

"How about Big Ben?"

" I inquired.

"I tracked him down. He is allergic to cops, so he fled. He came in after the fire started, doing a drive-by and keeping an eye out for Finn. He didn't see anything, not even Isabelle, who should have been at the Mayhem facility by now."

"Are you keeping an eye on me for Finn?" ”

His expression changed from delighted to sad. "I told you you didn't want Finn's attention, honey, but you got it."

"I know I received it, but I don't get it. What was the purpose of Big Ben's drive-by? ”

"Finn's commands will keep you secure."

I locked my gaze on him.

"Keeping me safe?" I exclaimed.

”

He returned my gaze.

"Babe, seriously?" he inquired.

"I met him once," Falcone recalled.

"Twice," Falcone pointed out.

"Okay, twice," I corrected.

"Yeah," Falcone said.

"I don't get it. I only recently met him. Why would he dispatch Big Ben to keep an eye on me? ”

Falcone looked at me again and said, "Babe, seriously?" ”

"Yes, Falcone, honestly," I said, straightening up in bed and crossing my legs under me. What's up with that? ”

"Do you recall our chat last night?" he questioned, his eyes narrowing.

Uh-oh.