Finding Ourselves.

Chapter 3

The tension in the living room slowly dissipated as the heavy truths settled around them. When a quiet moment finally fell, Elaine clutched the edge of her seat, her voice trembling.

​"Wait... what about Eleanor?" Elaine asked, her eyes darting between Hayes and Liam. "Have you seen her? Do you know where my sister is?"

​Liam offered a reassuring nod. "Yes, Elaine. We found her first, before we pieced everything together and realized what had happened to you. She’s safe. She’s living in Los Angeles, helping her adopted mother manage a city-side bar."

​A massive wave of relief washed over Elaine. She closed her eyes, letting out a long, shaky breath and smiling through her tears as she whispered, "She’s alive... thank God."

​With the night growing late, Papa John arranged for Hayes and Liam's security team to crash in the guest quarters, while Hayes and Liam were set up in the spare bedroom down the hall.

​After a quiet, heavy dinner with the family, the farmhouse grew still. Outside on the wooden porch, the cool night air carried the rustle of the distant cornfields. Hayes stood near the railing, a cigarette lit between his fingers, watching the smoke curl into the dark night. It was his only refuge, the only way to quiet the permanent storm inside his head.

​Footsteps creaked softly behind him. Elaine stepped out onto the porch, pulling a light shawl around her shoulders, and came to stand beside him.

​For a long time, they didn't speak. Then, looking out into the dark, Hayes began to talk. He told her about the years after the m******e—how his uncle had scrambled to hide them once they realized the mafia heirs weren't dead. How a bounty had been placed on their heads, forcing them to jump from country to country under false names.

​"We went through hell," Hayes murmured, his voice rough. "Jumping from one safehouse to another, getting ambushed by rival gangs who beat us half to death. There were days our uncle saved us, and days he couldn't. There was a time they almost killed Liam."

​He took a slow drag from his cigarette, his green eyes flashing in the dim light. "We were trained by men who didn't know the word mercy. We had to claw our way back to reclaim our throne because our people were being held prisoner. It took us five years of bloodshed just to take it back from the usurpers."

​Elaine listened, her heart aching as she looked at him. Even under the dim porch light, she could see faint, jagged scars along his jaw and neck—silent testaments to the war he had survived.

​"I made my name in the underground," Hayes continued, his tone turning grim. "We’re more powerful than the Russos now. But that ledger... the reason your parents were killed... I still haven't found it. Those bastards have been playing hide and seek with me for the past three years. I know they're planning something big, and my mind won't rest until both you and Eleanor are locked away safely under my protection. That's why I came for you."

​Silence stretched between them again, heavier this time. Hayes turned his head and noticed Elaine staring at him, quiet tears slipping down her cheeks as she wept softly for the brutal, punishing life he had been forced to endure, and for the years they had lost.

​Moved by an impulse he couldn't fight, Hayes tossed his cigarette aside and reached out. His calloused fingers gently wiped a tear from her cheek, then trailed down, tracing the soft, plump curve of her lips.

​He stared down at her mouth intently, completely lost in the warmth of her skin.

​Elaine caught her breath, a sudden, burning heat rushing from her cheeks down to her neck. Her chest rose and fell in rapid, shallow breaths as her eyes fluttered up, locking with his. Hayes’s gaze dropped to her heaving chest, traced back up to her neck, lingered on her parted lips, and finally crashed into her eyes.

​Reality slammed back into him. His eyes widened slightly as he realized he had been openly checking her out, crossing a line he had sworn to respect.

​Hayes instantly stepped back, his posture stiffening as he stuttered, "I—I'm sorry. That was a mistake. I won't... I won't cross that boundary again."

​Before Elaine could utter a single word, Hayes turned sharply and walked back inside, heading down the hall to the room he shared with Liam to wash up and try to quiet his racing pulse.

​Elaine stood frozen on the porch, staring out into the empty night air. Her heart pounded furiously against her ribs. She wasn't looking at the sweet nine-year-old boy from her memories anymore. That was a hot-blooded, dangerous man—a man who made her feel things so intensely, so physically, that it terrified her. A hot blush stained her cheeks as embarrassing, deeply intimate thoughts of what those large hands could do to her flashed through her mind.

​Get a grip, she scolded herself, shaking her head as she turned and walked back inside.

​After whispering goodnights to Mama Vera and Papa John, she retreated to her room. She knew tomorrow would bring a mountain of questions, logistics, and dangers, but as she slipped under the covers and stared up at the dark ceiling, exhaustion finally claimed her.

​She closed her eyes.

​Minutes later, her brows furrowed. Her breathing turned shallow.

​“Mom... no, please! Mom, where are you?!”

​Elaine thrashed violently across the mattress, whimpering as a vicious nightmare dragged her back into the burning estate. She twisted so hard that she rolled off the edge of the bed, hitting the hardwood floor with a harsh thud.

​The jarring impact jerked her awake.

​Elaine gasped, sitting up in the dark, shivering and drenched in a cold sweat. Her throat felt bone-dry. Needing air and water, she quietly pushed open her bedroom door and stepped out into the dark hallway.

​As she rounded the corner toward the kitchen, she nearly collided with a tall, solid figure.

​Hayes was standing right there, his hand resting on the doorknob of his own room. Startled by the sudden movement, he stepped back, his broad shoulders tensing.

​"I'm... I'm sorry," Hayes stuttered softly, his voice low in the dark. "I heard you screaming in your sleep. I came out to check on you."

​Elaine exhaled slowly, her chest still heaving from the nightmare. "Oh... no problem. Thank you," she whispered.

​She turned and headed down the stairs toward the kitchen, acutely aware of his heavy, silent footsteps trailing just a few paces behind her. Walking into the dark kitchen, she pulled open the refrigerator, grabbed a bottle of water, and took a long, cool sip. Even in the shadows, she could feel his unwavering presence anchoring her, melting away the lingering terror of the nightmare.

​Together, they walked back upstairs in complete silence, the air between them thick with unspoken words and heavy tension.

​When they reached her bedroom door, Elaine stepped inside the threshold, turned around, and gazed up at him in the dim hallway light. For a long, breathless minute, they stood there, an entire universe of pain, longing, and undeniable heat passing silently between their eyes.

​Slowly, without breaking eye contact, Elaine pulled her door shut, leaving Hayes standing alone in the dark hallway.