Chapter 57: Chapter 57

C H A P T E R - T W E N T Y - F O U R

I blinked my eyes open.

The majority of Falcone's loft was black, but a faint light was emanating from somewhere nearby.

I was in his bed when he was not. There was no heft, warmth, or presence. Falcone commanded attention. You could feel him even though he wasn't touching you.

This indicated that he was not present.

We had all been waiting at the hospital for Betsy to leave Brett's room.

I could tell she was stunned, despite the fact that I didn't even know her. Falcone, Dad, Melinda, Ramona, and I, as well as Betsy and Brett's parents, waited until the physicians finished their rounds and informed Betsy that there had been no change, that he was stable but critical, and that she should go home and return in the morning.

Despite the fact that her parents were present, Falcone urged Dad to take me, and he took Betsy home. Her family might have wanted to argue, but Falcone, being Falcone, didn't. Ramona followed them because she was staying with Betsy that night.

Melinda and Dad were living with them while their house was being repaired, so they took me to Dad's buddy Rick's place.

Melinda and Rick's wife Joanie attempted to convince me to eat, but I refused, saying I would wait for Falcone. When he eventually arrived, Joanie quickly prepared some grilled cheese sandwiches as Falcone glared at her with an acerbic, irritated look. She then wrapped the sandwiches in foil and placed them in a bag. After hugs and kisses, Falcone took me to his lair.

He said nothing throughout the trip, not even a syllable. I surmised that this was because his partner was unconscious and battling for his life while lying down in a hospital bed with a critical condition.

Falcone must be expecting Brett's body would prevail in that conflict since I thought the same thing. Since I knew Brett far less than Falcone did, and since this was occupying both of our heads equally, I felt he needed to brood, so I gave him the space to do so.

When we arrived at the lair, Falcone turned on the lights as I immediately rushed to the kitchen since I had suddenly become ravenous. The sandwiches were cut diagonally before I unwrapped them and placed them on plates. Falcone retrieved a bottle of water from the refrigerator.

I quietly said, "Baby," and handed him his sandwich as soon as he shut the refrigerator.

He gave me a quick glance before turning his attention to the plate. He then took it, walked directly to the trash can, pushed the lid open with the toe of his boot, and dropped the sandwich inside. He then threw the plate down on the counter. I then observed him creep over to his workstation, turn on his laptop and desk lamp, sit down, crack open the top to the water, and take a huge swallow.

I became aware while I was watching this that I knew nothing about him. Although I had known him for a year and a half, I had only recently started getting to know him.

When one of his boys got harmed, he seemed to lose his temper.

Understandable and useful information.

I let him have his space while eating my lunch. I then finished the necessary cleanup.

"Falcone, baby?" I then stood in the kitchen and yelled.

He raised his head from staring at the laptop screen, but he remained silent.

"Is it okay if I watch TV?"

He gave his head a little shake before returning to the TV.

Okay, good.

I watched television till I was about to nod off. I then shut it off, extinguished the lights in the seating area, and made my way over to Falcone's workstation.

He didn't look away from the display.

I waited for him to see me while standing on the other side of his desk from him. His head leaned back and his gaze finally turned to me after many drawn-out seconds.

I told him I was going to bed.

He gave a quick head nod before returning to the TV. I chewed my lip as I considered my options.

Then I made the decision to act in Falcone's place if I were in his shoes. I approached him from around the desk, leaned against him, and then I placed my hand around the other side of his neck. His head sank back, his neck twisted, and his eyes fixed on mine.

I squeezed his hand and mumbled, "He'll be OK," with more hope than assurance.

When I say that Falcone didn't react, I mean that he didn't respond at all. no jaw becoming more rigid. He didn't move a muscle in his cheek. He had no eye flash. Nothing. Zip.

I inhaled deeply, lowered my head, and then placed my lips to his before moving them to his ear. "Are you going to bed soon?" ”

I gave him another squeeze, let go, turned, and started to walk away. It took me some time to fall asleep after getting ready for bed and climbing in, but it did.

Then, as Falcone's weight landed on the bed, his warmth curled up against me, his arm wrapped around me, his knee hunched up against mine, and I felt him relax, it all slipped away from me.

Even when I was sleeping, I had been tense, but now that he was nestled up against me, his heat pouring in, and his strength surrounding me, everything was calm.

Now that Falcone had left, it was still the dead of night, and I was alone myself in bed.

I pushed back the sheets and slid out of his large bed, making my way straight towards the stairs. Even though I couldn't see the light beside the worn-out chair as I made my way down them, I was aware that it was on.

At the bottom of the stairs, I turned, moved two steps toward the chair, and then came to a complete halt.

Falcone was seated in the chair, near the light. He was nearly bent over twice and only had cargo pants on. He was hanging his hand between his thighs with one elbow on his knee. His forearm was raised while the other elbow was at his knee so he could wrap his hand around his neck. His head was down and remained so.

When I spoke quietly, "Baby," his neck curved back and his eyes turned to face me, but his hand didn't budge.

His vision was off in some way. really wrong

I said, "Baby," and moved toward him.

As I got closer, he gently murmured, "I was mistaken."

"Regarding what? " I enquired.

He replied, "Us," and I froze.

“What?" I carried on whispering.

I was mistaken about us, he said.

God, it hurt as I felt my heart tighten.

"You misjudged us, didn't you?”

He removed his hand off his neck, half raised his torso, but maintained his elbows on the ground.

"Gia, I can't do this," he said.

I choked on the word "do," so I cleared my mouth and said, "What?”

"This shit can't do it,” he said.

"This..." I hesitated because it was tough for me to say it, then I said it, "Shit?" ”

"Yeah, this stuff," he said, not having any difficulty expressing it.

I walked to the side, where a large, iron column stood, and wrapped my fingers around it, leaning into it to keep myself upright.

"What exactly do you mean?" I asked, unable to breathe since my heart was stuck in my throat.

"I was mistaken about you and me. I thought I could do it, but this shit is beyond me."

"Are you..." That sounded strangled again, so I swallowed and asked,

"Yeah," he said quickly and decisively.

"You're ending things," I said again, just to be sure.

"Yeah," he said again, firm and unshakable.