Sons of Thunder (21 page)

If he didn’t know better, Dino would believe that Reg had it in for him. Just because Reg might be a second-year resident didn’t mean he owned him.

At least this was Dino’s thought. Apparently Reg didn’t agree.

Apparently he was on staff to fetch Reg coffee and a ham sandwich from the cafeteria.

He also took vitals on every one of Reg’s patients, started two IVs, and did complete medical histories on two rummies that just needed a bed.

He shot a look at the clock. Already an hour past the end of his shift.

He also, apparently, was here to babysit Mr. Albert Phelps, passing a kidney stone in room 120. “Don’t leave until he’s out of pain,” Reg said, as he shrugged on his coat, topped his head with a fur hat that he pulled over his ears. He eased on his leather gloves. “Two more years, pal. Then you can have a social life.”

Dino turned away, glanced at the clock, imagining Sofia handing out the last of the coats, closing up the closet, cleaning out of the theater. In a half hour, she’d be waiting for him in the alley.

Or, walking home alone.

“C’mon, Mr. Phelps, if you could just try and drink more…”

“Listen, kid, the plumbing don’t work like it used to.” The doughy man took the drink from Dino’s hand, his face a knot of pain. A tattoo
on his forearm suggested time in the merchant marines. Still, twenty minutes later, the pain turned out his stomach onto Dino’s lab coat.

And finally upset the bedpan onto his shoes.

Which of course, necessitated a scrutiny of the contents, wiping it up, pouring it all through a strainer in order to search for something the size of a pebble. The clock ticked past eleven. He just might hate Reg.

“Don’t forget to finish filling out his chart,” Margie said as he emerged from the locker room, wearing clean pants, hopefully smelling of soap.

The clock read midnight by the time Dino watched his words form in the air as he dug into his pocket and hailed a cab, pressing the driver to bend a couple laws as he hung on to the seat.
I’m sorry, Sofia.

Darkness framed her boarding room window. He stood on the sidewalk, measuring his motives. Probably she’d gotten home without incident, had simply gone to bed. Her suitor had sent her nary a note for an entire week. Dino warred between hoping that he’d chased him off and the thought that, if so, she might not need him anymore.

He couldn’t bear the thought of not walking her home. Especially with Valentine’s Day a week away. He’d been entertaining thoughts of a candlelit dinner…

No. Sofia didn’t belong to him. She considered him a
brother
. Sometimes he could still feel her kiss, burning his cheek.

The wind tossed paper down the street, into an alleyway, chapped his ears.

He’d just check to make sure she made it home. He climbed the porch steps, opened the door, and called himself a liar.

He missed her smile. The way she teased him when he told her about his crazy patients. She’d love the story of the kidney stone.

He tiptoed up the stairs, wincing at the creak, and stopped outside
her door. Raised his hand. And that’s when he heard it—the hiccoughed breath of captured sobs.

He stilled, held his breath.

Yes, most definitely crying. He knocked.

“Go away!”

The anger in her tone shook him. “Sofia, it’s me, Dino…”

A pause, then steps to the door. He waited for the handle to turn, for her to open it. Even pressed his palm on the smooth oak.

Nothing. “Sofia?”

“Go away, Dino.” Her voice shook, however. “Go…”

“Let me in.” He found the tone he used for patients, for Mr. Phelps tonight. “Now.”

Nothing.

He leaned his forehead on the door. “Please, Sofia. Please.”

If he had held his breath, he might have perished. But finally, thank you, she slid the bolt back, and the door eased open.

Mascara bled down her face, even in the wan hall light. “Why are you in the dark?” She still wore her coat, although she’d discarded her hat. “How long have you been home?”

She turned away from the door, letting it hang open. He pushed through, hung his hat on the hook. Flicked on the light.

His breath seized inside him. Yes, she still wore the coat, but under it, the collar of her dress hung half-torn, a button missing from the top. And the heel had been shorn off her shoe. She stood, lopsided, her back to him, her arms curled around her body.

“Sofia—what—what happened to you?”

He touched her shoulders. The frailty of them—the way her bones moved under his hands—hollowed him out. And, she didn’t even resist when he faced her.

He had no words for the rage that choked him. Angry finger marks striped her cheek, their imprint outlined in red from the force of the blow. “Someone hit you.”

And guessing by the way she fisted her coat tight in front of her, maybe the abuse hadn’t stopped there. “Please tell me that’s all he did—not that it’s not enough but…oh, Sofia.” His brain nearly shut off as she covered her hands with her mouth. “Sofia!”

“No—no, I’m okay. I…hit him. I scratched him. He was so…
angry
.” Her breath caught, her eyes so wide they seemed to swallow him. “I ran back here, locked the door.” Her breath shuddered. “I was…so scared.”

And then, she began to sob.

Sofia. Oh… “I am so sorry. I should have been here. I should have told Reg I couldn’t—”

She looked up at that.

“Never mind.” He moved close, cupped his hand on her cheek. “It won’t happen again. Ever.”

She shook her head. “You can’t promise that, Dino. You have a career, something you worked for. You can’t protect me—”

“I can!” The heat in his voice rattled him, and he held up his hands, walking away, to the window, blowing out a breath. “I will.”

She came up behind him. “No. I’m going to quit my job. Move, maybe.”

“You need to go to the police.” But even as he said it, he winced. Yeah, sure. The Chicago police force had scoured from his mind any trust in the local police department.

He turned, caught her hand, icy in his hot grip. “Listen. Maybe there’s something we can do…” He sucked a breath, the idea taking form, solidifying, turning to words—“Marry me.”

“What?” She recoiled, but he held her hands, trapping her.

“Marry me, Sofia. I—I know that I’m not Markos, but, I care for you and—”

“I’m not charity, Dino! I’ve been on my own for ten years, and I don’t need you to sweep in and save me. I can take care of myself—”

He kissed her. Sure, it surprised him, but he couldn’t help it. Given that she’d just been attacked, probably his timing couldn’t be worse. By all rights, he earned her palm on his face.

And he would have stepped back, begun a litany of apology, if she hadn’t dug her hands into his lapels.

So, he kissed her again, a desperation in his touch. He didn’t move toward, her, didn’t curl his arms around her—although with everything inside him he longed to mold her to himself. Instead, he let her move into him, even as he softened his touch, deepening his kiss, needing her more with every moment. She tasted sweet, as if she’d sucked on a peppermint at work.

After a moment, she seemed to exhale.

Relax.

And although she’d kept him from moving away, she finally,
really
kissed him back. She made a soft little noise in the back of her throat, and it only made him reach up and run his hand behind her neck.

Sofia. He kissed her like he’d never kissed Lizzy, or any girl before her, her touch nourishing.

Delicious.

Right.

Sofia.

She finally caught her breath, backed away, not enough to twist out of his grip, but he saw everything he’d hoped for in her eyes. In her smile.

“Is that a yes? You’ll marry me.”

She touched her forehead to his chest. “I…”

He lifted her chin with his hand, made to kiss her again. But she untangled herself from his arms and moved away from him. She peeled her coat off and hung it in on the hook by the door. “Let me fix you something to eat.”

What—? “Sofia.”

“I’ll bet you’re hungry.”

Very. But not so much for food.

“Sof—”

She pulled out a pan, a carton of eggs from the tiny fridge.

“I’m serious.”

She cracked an egg, threw the shell into the sink. Cracked another. Threw that shell in. When she reached for a third, he caught her wrist. “You don’t have to answer me now.”

She turned and the force of her embrace around his neck shook him. He closed his arms around her. “What can I do?”

She said nothing.

He stroked her hair, weaving the softness through his fingers. “Please, tell me what to do.”

She shook her head. “I am just so…tired. I’m tired.”

He closed his eyes, rested his cheek on her head. “I’m staying tonight.”

She lifted her eyes, fast, protest in her expression—

“No—Sofia, I mean on the floor. Or in the hall. I don’t care. I just want to be here if that jerk comes knocking.”

She closed her eyes, he thumbed away a tear, surprised when she lifted herself and kissed him again. He barely breathed. She had a smell, a way about her touch that turned his mind to liquid.

She pulled away, her eyes in his. “Why…are you so good to me?”

He frowned. “Why shouldn’t I be?”

She ran her hand through the shadow on his chin. “Oh, Dino…I…” She looked away. “Yes, I want you to stay.”

He nodded. “I’ll make a bed on the floor—”

“No.”

She lifted her face, and if he had any question about her intent, it was erased by the look in her eyes. “I don’t want you to go.”

Oh.

“Sofia—”

“Don’t talk.”

He opened his mouth, closed it, swallowed. “Are you—are you sure?”

She sighed. “I—I don’t want to be alone.” She smiled up at him, a smile that would make him fetch her the world.

“We don’t have to—”

She slid her arms again around his neck. She smelled of perfume, and he saw himself in her eyes as she pressed her lips to his. Sweetly. Without pause.

He couldn’t—or—He groaned, a sound that broke loose deep inside him even as he swept her up into his arms. She clung to him.

Oh, Sofia. “You’re not alone,
kardia mou
. Not anymore.”

The sun had just begun to crest over the city, gilding the snow banks, syruping through the streets. He’d been standing at the window for far too long, his feet ice, his body shivering, shirtless. He’d found his pants in the dark and debated a long time about just slinking out.

That might make it worse, however. To slink away. Although he felt like a slug, leaving a trail of slime in his wake.

He tucked his hands under his arms. Stared at the sun bleeding into the sky. What had he done? He leaned his forehead against the window, hoping the shock would break him out of this moment, this glue that stuck him to his sin.

Nothing.

“Dino?”

He pressed his fingers against his eyes, wiping them. Yeah, that would be perfect. Let her see him crying. His soul leaking to the outside of his body.

What man cried after making love to the woman he adored?

The kind of man who saw himself becoming less and less the person he’d hoped to be. He took a breath, forced a smile. Turned. “Good morning.”

She lay in the bed, covered in a sheet, her hair tousled, the smudges of her makeup under her eyes. She tried a smile, and it fell. “Are you okay?”

He nodded but didn’t move toward her. Instead, he lowered himself into her straight-backed chair, leaning his body out from the wood, stiff, his body rattling in the cold.

“Come…come here.”

He looked out the window, shook his head. “I think it’s better if I stay over here.”

She lay back on her pillow, stared at the ceiling.

Outside, the early morning milk trucks rumbled down the street. His stomach growled.

“It’s guilt, isn’t it?”

He closed his eyes, and oh no, the tears returned. He ran a thumb under his eye. Gritted his jaw. Nodded.

“Oh—Dino.” She sat up, clutching the sheet to herself. “I—”

“Just—leave it, okay? Leave it.”

He stood up, went to the icebox. Found a new voice. “How about I make you breakfast for a change?” The eggs, left from last night, lay in a congealed mass. He dumped them down the drain.

“Shouldn’t we talk?”

He kept his back to her, braced his hands on the counter, hung his head. “About—what? What a terrible man I am?”

She turned silent behind him.

He waited for her to start crying, maybe, or to order him out. Oh, how he wanted her to hate him. Please—

“You’re not a terrible man, Dino.”

He sighed.

“But I understand. I’m not stupid. I know what that guy meant when he asked you if the old man turned you down. You’re in love with Spenser’s daughter.”

What?
She thought this was about Lizzy? He stiffened. Heard the rustle of sheets, her soft footfalls. He startled, a little gasp going through him when she touched his bare back. “We can forget this. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

He spun around and stared down at her with what must have been a look of horror. He certainly wanted to pick up something—maybe the eggs—and hurl them across the room, watch them shatter and bleed down the wall. “Forget this? Are you serious? It
meant
something—”