Free Prayer by Susan Fanetti Page A

Pagano.
     
    And that meant that John was, as Luca had said, in serious shit.

~ 4 ~
     
     
    Katrynn woke up on Sunday morning with only Lennie and George for company. They both sat primly on the empty, still neat, side of her bed and stared at her, as they always did. They wouldn’t start yowling until she sat up, and then they wouldn’t shut up until they were fed.
     
    She lay there and let them stare for a few minutes while she got her head straight about events of the night before.
     
    She wasn’t surprised to be alone; Atticus had left the bookshop with Murray, his publicist, and Lydia, his editor, on the way to the Urgent Care Center in Narragansett, several miles out of town. He’d refused to go to the ER at St. Gabriel’s because that was where John’s brothers had taken him.
     
    When Katrynn had tried to go with him, Atticus had waved her off angrily. He blamed her for his broken nose and swollen face.
     
    She didn’t think that was quite fair. She had no clue why John had punched him. But now John had fucked up something else in her life. Possibly a few things.
     
    Possibly some really significant things. She couldn’t let herself think about what John had told her. Those thoughts and the feelings that went with them had to be locked behind a door at the far side of her brain.
     
    It was interesting, though: she was angry and upset, absolutely. And there was a black pit of hurt lurking behind that locked door. But it was the state of the shop, and Bev’s heavy distress about the damage to Chris’s room, that had Katrynn really torqued. The thought that what had happened might have turned Atticus off of her was irritating, but not the greatest of her complaints. Seeing Bev, after everyone but Katrynn, Bev, Nick, and Sam had left, on her knees in the middle of the mess, weeping at the sight of Chris’s broken chair—that had made Katrynn’s blood boil, and the memory of it this morning was no less potent.
     
    And Nick—Nick had been terrifying. He’d been completely calm, and his voice had never lifted above a low rumble. But he had these always-intense, vivid green eyes, and last night they’d seemed supernaturally expressive. Like they might have burned whatever they’d focused on.
     
    When he’d gotten Bev calm, he’d sent her to the car with Sam, and then it had been only she and Don Pagano alone in the shop. He’d turned those eyes on hers and said, quietly, “I would like you to show me your neck, Katrynn.”
     
    You didn’t tell Nick no, so she’d shown him her neck. When she’d attempted to speak and explain that the bruising was not a big deal, he’d put up his hand to silence her. He’d said nothing; he hadn’t even nodded. After several silent seconds, he’d said, “We’re taking you home. I’ll send someone to bring your car to you.”
     
    Atticus had picked her up in his rental and taken her to Dominic’s, so her car hadn’t been at the bookshop—and until Nick had mentioned it, it hadn’t occurred to her that she’d been left without a ride. Her apartment wasn’t much more than a mile from the shop, so it wouldn’t have been a crisis if she’d had to walk, but it made her feel lonely that Atticus had left her behind like that.
     
    George stood and came over, stepping onto her chest. She had just enough time to put her hands over her boobs before he stepped on them. When he was nose to nose with her, he yowled and then rubbed his grey face along her jaw.
     
    “Okay, okay. Let’s get breakfast.” She set the cat to the side and got up. There was a lot left to think about, but she couldn’t lie in bed all day. That would only lead to getting stuck there. One thing Lennie and George were good for, besides their company: they wouldn’t tolerate neglect, so Katrynn never could fall too deep into the quicksand of self-pity.
     
     
    ~oOo~
     
     
    Later in the morning, Atticus showed up at her door. His nose was splinted, one eye was badly swollen, and the