Page 30 of A Wife’s Duty

T he house was empty of Boone and anyone else when Lucia woke up the following day.

After using the bathroom, she picked up Betty, carried her downstairs, and let her out into the yard.

She put the coffeepot on, and then stepped out, breathing in the morning sun.

There was a slight chill to the air, and she knew it wouldn’t be long before the seasons changed.

She missed Boone. She hadn’t even felt him leave last night, which she didn’t like.

Wrapping her arms around herself, she looked out over the garden. Did he trust her not to leave? Not to call her family? She rolled her eyes. He’d already given her a choice and there was no way she was going back on it. She didn’t regret the decision she had made.

Once Betty was finished, her very pregnant doggy waddled over to her, and she bent down, giving her a stroke.

“He’ll be back soon, won’t he, girl? He wouldn’t just leave you alone. I don’t believe that for a minute.” She kissed the top of the dog’s head, loving her so much.

“It’s going to be okay.” She didn’t know if she was trying to reassure herself, or the dog. Did Betty even understand her?

“Come on, let’s get you something to eat.”

They walked back into the house, and Lucia closed and locked the door. She trusted Boone’s home, but she didn’t want to make it easy for anyone to get close. She had Betty to protect.

The scent of coffee filled the air, and she put some food into a bowl, allowing her little dog to eat.

“You’re eating for a lot of little pups.” She stroked down Betty’s back, and then poured herself a mug of coffee. “You know what I’m thinking, Betty? I’m thinking some French toast. I think that could be quite nice.”

She pursed her lips and looked inside the fridge. Grabbing the carton of eggs, some milk, along with some bread, she felt her stomach start to growl, she was so hungry.

“I’m hungry.”

She was just talking to fill the silence.

“Do you like eggs?” she asked Betty.

The dog was still eating her bowl of food.

“Of course you do. Everyone likes eggs. I mean, I don’t know for certain, because I don’t know the whole world, but eggs are a pretty good food, right?”

She didn’t want to think. She missed Boone.

Lucia cracked two eggs into a bowl, followed by a splash of milk.

She had seen one of those celebrity chefs do this on their cooking channel.

She didn’t want any cinnamon, and instead, seasoned it with some salt and black pepper.

Once that was done, she got to work melting the butter.

It was important not to burn the butter or the bread.

Tears filled her eyes, which was crazy. Why was she crying?

Boone’s gone and he might not come back.

She sniffled. And the tears started to fall.

Slapping the two slices of bread into the pan, she heard the slight sizzle. Using the back of her hand to wipe her nose and rub at her eyes, she took a deep breath.

Her father had beaten her. There were times he would lash out at her for no good reason.

A slap to the back of the head, a beating with the belt.

Her brothers had tormented her, really terrified her, and her sister hadn’t been much better.

Neither had her mother. She had gone through all of that—seeing people die, having to be quiet, listening to screams that would echo through the house—and no one was willing to make her feel okay.

After everything she had been through, knowing there was a chance Boone might not make it back filled her with deep sorrow.

Lucia never cried for herself. There was no point. It was her life, and she got used to it.

“Lucia, what’s the matter?”

She jerked her head up and turned to see Boone standing in the kitchen doorway. Dropping the egg slice she had in her hand, she rushed toward him. This was not good, but she didn’t care, as she threw herself into his arms.

“I thought I was never going to see you again,” Lucia said.

He wrapped his arms around her, the tears fell even more freely now, and yes, she still hated them. Boone wrapped his arms around her, pressing his face against her neck. She was so grateful to have him in her arms.

“You’re cooking breakfast?” he asked.

“I’m trying to. French toast looks ... easy, I think.”

He laughed. “Do you want to make me some breakfast?”

She pulled back and nodded. When she went to move away, he stopped her, pulling her in close and wiping her tears.

“Why are you crying?”

It was on the tip of her tongue to lie to him, but that didn’t feel right. Lying was not going to solve things. Boone needed to know the truth.

“I didn’t think I was going to see you again.”

“You didn’t?”

“You’re ... the Bonaldis, no one has been successful in taking them down, Boone. What you’re doing might get you killed?”

He cupped her face, and she had no choice but to look up at him. She didn’t look away, even for a second. She loved his brown eyes. She loved everything about him.

“Do you still want that ink?” he asked.

“What?”

“You didn’t know if you wanted a tattoo. Have you made up your mind?”

Where were his thoughts at a moment like this? She was trying to warn him and all he could think about was ink? It made no sense to her.

“Boone—”

“Do you still want to get some ink?” he asked, completely cutting her off.

Trying to warn him was pointless. Staring into his eyes, she saw he had already made up his mind. There was no changing it, and she didn’t want to ruin the short time they had together. Tattoos were important to him.

“Yes, I would still like to get that ink.”

If she got the ink, that would mean he was going to stick around, wouldn’t it?

“I made arrangements for us to go somewhere today. I know a guy who is more than happy to slot you in, and more importantly, I trust him.”

There were so many questions she wanted to ask. Her curiosity about where he was when she woke up, what he’d been doing, had he completed his mission? Had he made Bonaldi and her father pay for their sins? Yet, not a single word left her lips.

“You trust him?” she asked.

“Yes.”

She nodded. “Then, yeah, I’d love to. What about Betty?”

“She can come along. I’ll keep her company.”

Again, she had no idea what to say, so she merely nodded her head, which seemed to be her thing to do.

It didn’t take Lucia long to be ready for him, changing into a pair of jeans and a large sweater.

She did have on a crop top underneath for modesty.

With Betty secured in the back of the car, Lucia took the passenger seat, and they were driving out of the main driveway, onto the road.

She kept looking toward him, wondering if there was any discernable sign of what he’d been up to. Nothing gave it away.

She pressed her lips together and continued to look straight ahead. That seemed to be her best bet, although she couldn’t help but glance toward him.

“Ask me,” Boone said.

“What?”

“I can see that something is on your mind, Lucia. Don’t beat around the bush, just ask me.”

Just ask . No one just asked the man in their world what was going on. She recalled all the times her mother even dared to question her father, even if it wasn’t a question, she would get slapped or beaten. A woman’s place was to do as they were told, and nothing else.

Was that what Boone wanted? Hell, no. She couldn’t constantly assume that Boone was like her father. He was nothing like him. She was sitting in his car, on her way to get a tattoo, with short hair, wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. She no longer dressed like a woman her father would appreciate.

“What did you do while you were gone?” Lucia asked.

There was no attack, no pain, and she looked toward Boone. He still stared straight ahead.

“Do you really want to know?” he asked.

He held his hand up as she opened her mouth. “I’m not saying you can’t handle it, Lucia. What I’m saying is, are you ready to hear the truth? Do you even want to? You don’t have to.”

Lucia sat back and thought about it. Whatever he had done, it had involved her family—her father, one of her brothers, maybe her sister.

Could she handle anything happening to them, and also her mother?

She shouldn’t forget her mother. Maybe it made her cruel, verging on heartless, but she didn’t care about them. They were not really her family.

Some people were born into amazing families and their loyalty was expected, even deserved. Then there were others that quite simply were not. She didn’t love her family. Getting away from them had been the best thing she ever did.

“Yes, I want to know,” she said.

“Leandro is dead,” Boone said. “He attempted to plant a bomb in one of my apartments, only I was expecting it and made arrangements to keep him trapped there. Since we came to my safe house, he’d been trapped with no way of escape. I went and took care of it.”

“What happened?”

“Exactly what he did to the nanny all those years ago.”

Lucia gasped and then sat in her chair.

Leandro was gone. She thought about her brother and his cruel ways.

The staff hated him, where their father liked his cruelty.

Leandro was a different breed of man. It was one of many reasons she was glad her father had been allergic to pets.

She had a horrible feeling Leandro would have hurt them.

And she wouldn’t have been able to stand that.

“Okay,” she said.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, he wasn’t a very nice person, and I remember hearing once that karma has a nice or nasty way of paying you back for the way you have lived. I guess his past caught up with him.”

She glanced over toward Boone, who simply gave a nod of his head. What more was there to say? There was no point in arguing for Leandro, or any of them. They were all poison.

Was she poison?

She didn’t know if she was on his list, and she was too afraid to find out.

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