I Thee Take: To Have and To Hold Duet Book Two by Knight, Natasha (ready to read books .txt) 📗

love you like I love him. Like I loved my daughter. Like I loved Mara. Love her,” she corrects. But she’s wavering now between past and present. Loved. Love. Has she given up hope after all these years?

Her eyes fill up again and I see so much sadness, but she wipes it away and forces an almost smile. “I’m an old woman, but Alec, he’s so young.”

“I promise, Lenore.”

She nods, looks down at the floor then walks backward to sit down.

“The medicine they were giving you to keep you in the coma, I asked about it. I asked your uncle, and I asked another doctor and did a little research. Maybe I shouldn’t have. I could have put you in danger. I know that.”

“What did you learn?”

“David knew if it was used for a prolonged period, it could—would—cause permanent memory loss.”

He knew?

The door opens then and Antonio walks in. He stops just inside the door.

Lenore and I both turn to look at him.

“We’ve got a problem,” he says.

“What is it?”

“Dante.”

My heart drops to my stomach. “Is he okay?”

“For now. But we need to go.”

I nod and as I cross the kitchen, I think about them all. All the people who need me to keep them safe. Scarlett. Lenore. Alec. Dante. Even Cerberus needs me. So many people depending on me and what have I wanted all this time? Vengeance. And then? And then death. I won’t deny that anymore. It’s selfish. I’m selfish.

But maybe in my case, dead is better.

I’m just about to walk out of the kitchen when Lenore calls my name. “Cristiano.”

I stop, turn.

“He knew,” she says. “They gave you more of those drugs when you started to wake up to keep you asleep. He knew all along. And that doctor,” her expression is one of disgust. “That doctor was on his payroll.”

19

Cristiano

“Where is he?”

Antonio and I are on the chopper along with two soldiers.

“I know one of the officers. He took him home. No arrest was made.”

“Where the fuck were the soldiers he’s supposed to have with him at all times?”

Antonio ducks his head to look out onto the water as we near our landing spot.

“He doesn’t take them with him. Hasn’t in a while.”

“What?”

“As soon as he gets to the mainland, he drops them.”

“What do you mean he drops them?”

Antonio takes a deep breath in as the chopper lands then turns to me. “He’s doing something, and I can’t figure out what it is. I have the men tail him but there have been a few times we’ve lost him.”

“And you haven’t thought to mention this to me?”

“You’ve got a pretty full plate, Cristiano.”

“My brother takes priority.” We climb out of the chopper and walk across the lot to the waiting SUV. “What’s he doing?”

“He’s looking for someone. I don’t know who but it’s a girl.”

I look at Antonio. “A girl?”

He shrugs a shoulder. “He puts on a good face for you, but your brother’s got demons. And he’s self-destructive.”

Family trait.

“I know about the demons.” I hear him at night. The nights he sleeps at the house that is. The nights he sleeps. “I don’t care what happens but from now on, you double the men on him. Give him space but you can’t lose him. Period.” I can’t lose him.

Antonio nods and we ride in silence the rest of the way to a small, non-descript house along the outskirts of the city. Soldiers secure the perimeter as Antonio and I make our way to the front door. We don’t have to ring the bell. The woman who lives here, I’d guess the wife of the man who kept my brother out of jail, opens the door, her expression one of worry.

She meets my eyes for a split second, mutters something under her breath and makes the sign of the cross before stepping aside, almost disappearing behind the door.

“Christ,” a man’s voice says as I look around the small living room with its low ceiling, the tiny kitchen with a kettle on the stove that’s whistling. I watch the man walk into the kitchen to switch off the burner and move the kettle. He gives his wife an irritated look before turning to me and Antonio.

He’s middle-aged with a slight paunch to his belly. He’s still wearing his police uniform.

“Antonio,” he says, shaking hands with him before turning to me, giving me a nod.

I extend my hand to shake his and he smiles, puts his hand in it.

“Cristiano,” I say.

“Emil. Emil Giordano. Pardon my wife.” He has an accent, like he comes from a rougher part of the town.

“No, nothing to pardon,” I say as we watch her close the door then disappear into the kitchen. “It’s early and we come unannounced.”

He half-shrugs his shoulder. “This way,” he says, gesturing for us to follow him through the living room and down a hallway to the last door.

“Can you tell us what happened?” I ask.

“He got into it with a couple of guys at a bar in town. Not the best place to begin with. There were six of them against your brother. I gotta say, he held his own for a time but six against one aren’t good odds. Thing is, he started it and the bar owner knows the others. I recognized Dante. I remember what happened to your family. Terrible thing to go through.”

“Thank you,” I say, trying not to feel any emotion.

“I told my partner I’d take care of it, but we had to make like we were arresting him. Your brother is a little bent out of shape because of it.”

“He’ll get over it. Your partner?”

“Don’t worry about him. I paid him a couple bucks.”

I nod. “Antonio will take care of you. I’d like to see my brother.”

“Sure thing.”

The man opens the door to the little bedroom. It’s about the size of my closet with a single bed pressed to the far corner and a nightstand with a lamp on it.

Dante is just sitting up when I walk inside and close