Lorenzo & Lily (Royals of Valleria #8)

by Marianne Knightly

  Chapter Thirteen

  Lorenzo had the uncomfortable feeling of déjà vu. His instincts were telling him to run and he always trusted his instincts.

  “I don’t have a good feeling about this meet.” He once again checked where their Royal Protection agents were stationed, and glanced over at the few sticking close to him and Alex.

  Alex strode next to him, brows furrowed. “I don’t, either. Something’s not right.”

  “No, it fucking isn’t.”

  They were walking from their car into the bowels of the docks. The press had nearly blinded them with flashes as they’d left the castle, then followed them to the dock entrance. They hadn’t been allowed to follow them inside, and he hoped they weren’t nearby. If something went down, he didn’t want more casualties.

  He swallowed the bile crawling up his throat. The last time he’d felt like this had been in the jungle years ago, before they’d been ambushed.

  This isn’t the jungle.

  It’s not six years ago.

  Then why the fuck did it feel like it was?

  Alex scanned the area. “Where’s the meet?”

  “In one of the offices, just up ahead.”

  “I’m surprised they didn’t cancel.”

  “You and me both. When I messaged Peter, the union’s regional officer, earlier today, he decided he wanted a last meet before the vote.”

  Lorenzo stopped when his instincts told him once more to run. His heartbeat was racing, and he was finding it hard to breathe. Lorenzo bent over, resting his hands on his knees.

  Deep breath in.

  Deep breath out.

  Deep breath in.

  Deep breath out.

  He didn’t want to feel like this. He especially didn’t want to feel like this in front of his brother. What would Alex think now?

  Alex’s hand came to his back, and rubbed in comforting circles. “It’s all right. You’re okay. Take another breath.”

  He hated feeling weak, but hated showing weakness more. Over the last few years, he’d had to hide his weak moments from his family, and that had been the toughest part about his recovery.

  If he couldn’t be weak in front of the ones he loved and still be accepted, could he ever be himself? Or would he need to play a part for the rest of his life?

  If he couldn’t be himself with family, were they really his family at all, except in blood?

  As soon as Liliana came into his life, he hadn’t realized it at the time, but he’d given up pretending. He’d given up on forcing his family to accept who he was, and how he was. He didn’t want his daughter to grow up and learn how to hide herself, and to only feel comfortable alone.

  Lorenzo straightened and faced his brother. Alex’s mouth was pursed in concern, but Lorenzo didn’t see any judgement there. Hope bloomed in his chest.

  “Are you all right?”

  Lorenzo took another deep breath. “Yes. I’ve just got a really bad feeling about this. I say we turn back. I’ll message Peter and let him know we can’t take the meet.”

  Alex nodded. “I agree. What about the strike?”

  “We’ll just have to do damage control. I don’t feel safe right now.”

  “Lorenzo.”

  “I don’t feel like you’re safe, either.”

  Alex pursed his lips and looked around. “I think you might be right. Let’s go.” Alex signaled to the agents nearby and told them about the change in plan.

  As they began walking out, Lorenzo’s unease only increased. “Stick close, big brother.”

  “You, too, little brother.”

  Lorenzo glanced at his buzzing phone. “Peter still wants the meet. Just for a few minutes. He knows we’ve arrived at the docks, so he’s wondering why we’re pulling back now.”

  “Pushy, isn’t he?”

  He frowned. “Yes, which is unusual for him. I wonder–”

  Lorenzo turned his head and his eyes caught someone standing on top of a row of storage containers.

  They were holding something that was pointed straight at them.

  A rifle.

  Holy shit.

  Instinct took over and Lorenzo leapt onto Alex, covering him and tackling him to the ground.

  The first bullet hit Lorenzo’s arm. He gasped in pain, then scrunched his eyes shut as his mind flew into the past.

  He was in the jungle. Perez was in his arms and the chopper was too far away. He stumbled as the bullet stung his arm.

  The second bullet hit the ground nearby. The agents scrambled to protect them, their guns now drawn and firing back.

  A second bullet hit his thigh. He was on the ground. Perez was screaming in pain. He was screaming, too.

  Alex was calling him, saying something. He couldn’t hear. He couldn’t hear anything. Everything was white noise all around him.

  Another bullet. More pain. He was burning up. The jungle and the fire were too hot. He couldn’t breathe.

  He couldn’t breathe. He blinked his eyes open, but the harsh lights of the dock were all he could see. Blurs of color moved around him.

  He had to get up. Had to help Perez. Had to get out. They were getting closer.

  He was on his back, Alex’s worried face now over his. Why was he worried?

  He felt blood or sweat or both rolling off his body. He knew he didn’t have much time. The chopper was nearby. He could hear it getting closer. Then he felt the rush of air from the chopper’s blades as it flew over them.

  Fresh air.

  He could breathe.

  He could finally fucking breathe.

  The chopper stopped and hovered at the extraction point, waiting for them.

  He had to get them out.

  He screamed as he stood, the pain vicious and clawing.

  He picked up Perez again.

  Then he ran like hell.

  “Lorenzo! Lorenzo!”

  Alex’s voice got further and further away, until there was nothing.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Lorenzo lay on his back in the hospital bed, which was reclined into a semi-sitting position. His eyes were staring at the ceiling. He wondered why hospital ceilings weren’t painted or given proper attention. Patients certainly spent enough time looking up. Since he’d spent his fair share of time in hospitals during his life, he decided this was going to be another project he embarked on, beginning at the MARC: ceilings covered with murals. Maybe Carolina could help.

  He crossed his arms over his bare chest, fighting the wince of pain from his wound. He’d been hit in the arm, but would recover.

  Physical healing was the easy part.

  After he’d woken in the hospital, he’d been disoriented. It had taken a few moments to realize he wasn’t in a chopper heading out of the jungle.

  He was safe. He was in Valleria.

  He was home.

  As soon as the doctor had patched him up, he’d called his therapist. He’d spent an hour talking to him, would spend an hour more the next day.

  He turned at the racket outside his door and sighed. His family had descended upon the hospital – or most of them had. They hadn’t been pleased they’d had to wait so long to see him, but he didn’t give them a choice.

  Staying healthy, mentally and physically, had to be his number one goal.

  Now all he wanted was to see his Lily and Liliana.

  Alex knocked and entered without waiting for him to respond. He scanned Lorenzo’s shirtless body before his gaze settled on his bandaged arm.

  Alex frowned, then shut the door and walked to the bed. “Are you in pain?”

  Gunshot wounds felt like shit, but he wasn’t going to tell Alex that. “I’m fine. The bullet went straight through. Just sutures. Nothing major. I’m fine.”

  “You were shot taking a bullet for me.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. They could have been shooting at me. Maybe it was someone who wants the strike to move forward.”

  “You could be right,” Marcello said as he entered, followed by Nate and
Ethan. “You all right?”

  “Yeah. Why do you think the shots were related to the strike?”

  Ethan gave his bandage a doctor’s look-over. “Agents got the shooter. It was Gaston.”

  Fucking hell. “Gaston? Shit. I knew he wanted the strike, but I didn’t think he’d take me out for it.”

  Marcello took a seat on the bed near Lorenzo’s legs. “Agents interrogated him while the doc was looking you over. Peter was the mastermind here.”

  Lorenzo shot up and ignored Ethan’s protest to take it easy. “Are you fucking kidding me? Peter? Fucking Peter?”

  Nate gently pushed Lorenzo back towards bed. “He fooled everyone, apparently.”

  “Though he claimed to side with us on the strike, he wanted the strike to happen,” Marcello said. “We ran his financials, and he’s been receiving regular payments from some corporate shell company. It took some doing in a couple hours, but we traced that company to Field.”

  Lorenzo’s mind whirled. “Field’s been paying him off? Did you check with the other union officers?”

  “We are now. I don’t think we’ll be surprised if we learn they’ve been paid off, too. Some of them were recently fired as well. They may have turned down the payoff and been fired for it.”

  “Fucking hell.”

  “You said it.”

  Lorenzo rubbed a hand over his face. He could hardly believe how things had turned. It was a simple union election. How had it resorted to such violence? “Are you taking Field down? Bribery, blackmail – surely we have enough evidence for it now?”

  “We have him in holding on suspicion at the moment,” Marcello said. “We’re waiting to confirm if he’s done anything to the other union leaders. If he has, that would significantly bolster the case against him.”

  Alex glanced towards the others, then faced Lorenzo. “I’ve called a last-ditch strike aversion meeting. Nate and I are going in just a few minutes.”

  Lorenzo shot up again. “The hell you are. You were almost killed.”

  Alex shook his head. “It’s necessary.”

  “Don’t pull that bullshit. I’ll go.”

  “You were shot.”

  “Just once.”

  “You were shot!” The room went still at Alex’s uncharacteristic outburst.

  “Alex, I’m fine.”

  “You were shot. You are not fine. I was there.” Alex leaned towards him. “I was there. You were out of it when it happened.”

  Shit. His brother was pissing him off. “Yeah, I was out of it. People who have been through traumatic experiences have triggers that can send them back. Since I was shot before, and I got shot tonight, it’s not surprising I had a flashback.”

  “You need time to recover from that.”

  “No, I fucking don’t. I already talked to my therapist about it. I’m meeting him again tomorrow. Since I already see him on a regular basis, this shit pops up, I’ll be able to work it through with him.” He leaned towards Alex. “I’m. Fucking. Fine.”

  “I’m worried about you.”

  Shit. His anger left him. “I appreciate that, Alex, I really fucking do. But you, of all people, know you don’t get over shit like this in a day, or ten days, or even ten months sometimes.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You over Rebecca getting kidnapped, beat up, and almost assaulted?”

  Alex took a step back. “That’s different.”

  “Yeah?” Lorenzo turned to Nate. “You and Charlie were shot barely a year ago. Are you over it? Is Charlie?”

  He turned to Marcello without waiting for Nate to respond. “You over almost getting killed. Repeatedly, I might add? How about when Grace and Cat were almost hurt?”

  Marcello rubbed the back of his neck. “Lorenzo, that’s different.”

  “Is it? Marcello’s been through worse than me, yet I’m treated with kid gloves all the time.” Lorenzo locked eyes with Alex. “Earlier tonight you said you trusted me. Believed in me. Was that a lie?”

  “No, it wasn’t,” Alex said immediately. “We do trust you.”

  “Am I anything like I was six years ago? Or even after Lily left? Do I resemble that person anymore?”

  Nate squeezed the shoulder of his uninjured arm. “No, you don’t. We’re sorry, Lorenzo. You’re right. We just can’t help seeing you as you were all those years ago, and we never want to see that again.”

  “I can understand that. However, things are different now. I’m a different man, and now I’m a father, too. I’ll need your support – not your babying or interference – to be a good one. Are you all on board with that?”

  Alex leaned down and kissed Lorenzo’s forehead. “Yes, we are.”

  Finally! “Thank fuck. Now about the strike meeting–”

  “We’re going,” Alex said with a soft finality. “We’ll have lots of agents with us, and they’re meeting at the castle’s conference center, so we’ll have the upper hand. Security is tight at the castle; they won’t be able to try anything there. Marcello’s had agents sweeping just to be safe and nothing’s come up. We won’t be exposed like we were at the docks. We’ll be safe.”

  Lorenzo knew Alex would never risk bringing danger to the castle where the entire family was staying. “What about the press?”

  “They’re focusing on the ‘assassination attempt’ as they call it, rather than the strike. It’s unfortunate, but after the meeting, we’ll host a press conference that will refocus the news.”

  Ethan closed Lorenzo’s chart and slid it back in its holder. “They love you, by the way.”

  “Who?”

  “Everyone. ‘The dashing prince who saved our future king.’ You know, all that rubbish.”

  Lorenzo smiled. “Not entirely rubbish. It is truth.”

  “A twisted version of it. They weren’t aiming for me,” Alex reminded him.

  “No one cares about that,” Lorenzo said, and his smile dimmed. “What about Lily and Liliana? Did they hear about this shit in the press? You took my phone away so I couldn’t contact them.”

  Alex pulled out Lorenzo’s phone and handed it over to him. “Liliana’s still sleeping, as far as we know. Rebecca’s at the castle with her, along with some of the others. Lily’s outside, and so are Mama and Papa.”

  Lorenzo slipped the phone in his pocket. “How’s Papa doing?”

  “He was shaken, we all were, but he’s steady. He’s doing a lot better,” Ethan said.

  “We’ve got to get ready for the meeting.” Alex leaned down and kissed his forehead again. “See you soon.”

  “Sure. Send Lily in, would you?”

  They nodded and said their farewells.

  A few minutes later he heard a soft knock and he turned to find Lily peeking through the door. “May I come in?”

  “Of course,” Lorenzo said, and held out an arm to her.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Better now that you’re here.”

  She smiled softly as she stepped inside, wearing a pair of jeans and a mis-buttoned plaid shirt; clearly she’d gotten hastily dressed when she’d heard the news.

  “Liliana’s still sleeping?”

  She walked to him and took his hand. “Yes. I didn’t want her to worry, so she’s at the castle with Prin-I mean Rebecca. I checked in with her about ten minutes ago and she said Liliana was still sleeping.”

  “Lock the door.”

  “Lorenzo.”

  “I need to fix your shirt. Lock the door so someone doesn’t come in.”

  She looked down, then gaped. “I hadn’t realized. No one said anything.”

  As she started to reach for her buttons, he covered her hands with his. “I want to fix it.”

  “You’re hurt.”

  “I can re-button a shirt. I’m not that hurt.”

  “You were shot.”

  “Barely.”

  “Lorenzo.”

  He tugged her closer. “You have five seconds to lock the door. Otherwise, I’m fixing your
shirt and anyone, including my parents, might walk in and see you.”

  She stomped away – completely fucking adorable – and locked the door. He re-positioned the head of the bed so that he was sitting almost straight up, while she closed the small curtain over the window in the door. She returned to his side, and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Climb on.”

  “Are you nuts? I’m not going to get on the bed. You’re hurt.”

  Tired of arguing, he grabbed her hips and positioned her to straddle him.

  “Lorenzo!” she hissed.

  Though his arm felt as though it were on fire, he wouldn’t complain. “I’m fine.”

  She slapped his hands away as they moved to her shirt buttons. “I can fix my own shirt.”

  He quirked an eyebrow. “Can you? Will you do it very slowly, so I can savor the moment?”

  She shook her head. “You’re terrible.”

  “I’m eager. There’s a difference.”

  “Only you could be ‘eager’ after being shot.”

  “I could tell you it’s just the waning adrenaline in my system.” At her crestfallen expression, he continued. “But it’s really just you.” He moved her over his hardening erection. “It’s you, Lily.”

  “Lorenzo.”

  He brushed her lips with his.

  “God, Lorenzo. I was so worried.” Her arms wrapped around him.

  “I know. I’m okay.”

  “Hold me.”

  “I am.”

  “Tighter.”

  He tightened his arms around her.

  “Tighter.”

  “I’ll hurt you if I go any tighter than that.”

  Her head came up and she cupped his face. “No, Lorenzo. Tighter.” She ground her hips into his.

  “Lily.”

  “Please?”

  Fucking hell. “You’re not sure about us. I don’t want to rush you.”

  “I thought you might die.”

  His body stilled.

  “I wondered what life would be like if you did. Liliana barely got to know you. We never really reconciled because I kept holding back, because I was so afraid you’d eventually let me go.”

  “I’m not going to do that.”

  “I felt it, you know.”

  “What?”

  “The fear of losing you.”