by Ella James
So I feel my stomach flip-flop when I see how angry he looks. The look fades some as he approaches, crouching down in front of me and hugging me against him.
“Elise. I’m so sorry. Mom told me a little while ago.” So my mom’s telling people. I nod mutely against his shoulder.
He pulls slightly away so he can look into my eyes. “You okay?”
I shake my head. “But I know I will be.” Tears start flowing again.
“Was it last night?”
I nod.
“Ree said you were trying to link up with Luca?”
“Yeah,” I rasp. “Do you know where he is?”
He frowns. “I think I saw him upstairs. Let me go check. You want something to drink? I’ll have someone bring you something,” Jace says, like he lives here.
“It’s okay.”
Jace and Dani exchange a look, which makes my pulse quicken. As soon as Jace is out of earshot, I frown at Dani. “Hey…is something wrong?”
“Oh, I don’t think so. I mean…besides the obvious, you know.” She looks like she’s not sure if she should smile or cry, so I roll my eyes.
“Besides that.”
Dani wraps her arm around me. “Maybe Jace is trying to shield you from too many eyes. Or help you rest.”
“Maybe.” But why didn’t Jace take me to Luca? “I just want to see him.”
“I know you do.”
Dani’s arm around me stiffens, and I look up to understand why. Lorenzo Missanelli is striding toward us, holding two champagne flutes and smirking with both dimples showing as he locks his eyes on Dani.
“Jesus Christ,” she mutters, pulling her arm out from behind me. “Look at bozo the clown.”
“Dani,” I hiss. “He looks nice, I think.”
She snorts.
Loren is tall and lean, wide up top but not as bulky as Luca or Jace. Tonight he’s got on pale jeans that are ripped on one knee, a white Nirvana shirt, and he has a purple mohawk. No one had seen it until graduation, when we all assumed he had it done specifically to piss off his father, Senator Serg Missanelli. “Serg the Sarge”—as Loren calls him—is almost always in Washington, D.C., but when he comes home, Loren always gets weird. Well, weirder.
Seeing him with crazy hair gives me a little boost. I can’t help smiling when he hands Dani and I our drinks and grins right at her with those killer dimples.
“Daniella.”
“Lorenzo,” she says pertly.
Loren runs a hand back through his purple hair—self-consciously, I think, but then he realizes the tell and grips a tuft of his hair. “So whaddaya think about my new do?” He smirks as if he’s got the upper hand, even under Dani’s withering stare.
“I think you look like Tinky Winky.” Dani lifts her chin, now smirking back up at him.
“Tinky Winky.” He looks totally affronted. “You saying I look like a fucking Teletubby?”
“I’m saying you look like the president of the Teletubbies. The grand leader. Chancellor, prime minister. Really might as well just get the full-on Tubby suit because that would make me laugh, and I need to laugh. We all need a laugh, Lorenzo. So thank you for that tonight.”
I’m surprised when Loren halfway sits on top of Dani, wrapping both of his hands around her ear to whisper something.
I watch Dani’s nostrils flare, and then she leans away. She gives him a fuck off look and says, “You can go now, Lorenzo. Thank you for the alcohol.”
She holds her flute up and Loren arches his brows, like he’s not happy but not sure what to say.
“You’re welcome,” he says finally, and he goes.
“C’mon.” Dani sighs as she stands. “Let’s go somewhere else so I don’t ‘accidentally’ run into him again. It’s been happening for weeks now, and I’m over it.”
I follow her, holding my own cool glass flute. “Has it?”
She nods. “You know he’s dating that girl from Horace Mann. I even think she’ll be here with him tonight. But he can’t resist fucking with me. It’s insane.”
I’m kind of surprised to hear Dani go off on him. Not really, because those two have been at each other’s throats since we were all in diapers. But a little. Last year she decided “Lorenzo”—she’s the only one who calls him that—was “dead to her,” after he came to her house to hang with her brother and the two of them set up a bike ramp on a hill, which had them jumping over Dani’s car. She never drives the car, but she was none too pleased when Loren crashed into the windshield like a bird into a slider door and left blood and little Loren hairs all in the glass.
“Boys are morons,” she mutters now.
Her hand is at the small of my back, and I note she’s walking pretty quickly as we head down the hall toward a side door that leads onto the back porch.
“Are we going outside?” I ask, feeling a kick of panic at the idea we won’t be where Ree expects when she returns with Luca.
“Just for a second. I’d like to smoke. If Ree doesn’t see us, she can just call.” She holds up her leather clutch, where I assume her cellular is.
I nod. My chest is aching, but Dani seems so flustered that I don’t want to make things harder for her. I’ll stay for the cigarette and then I’ll strike off on my own to look for Luca.
Everyone is sardined on the porch, so much that I can barely see faces…so I don’t know if we know anybody out here. Dani finds a spot against the railing and lights up a Marlboro.
“Thank you,” she says, apologizing with her eyes.
“It’s okay. What is it about ‘Lorenzo’ that you think does this to you?” I force a small smile.
“What isn’t it about him?” She looks genuinely angry…and also gorgeous, with her dark hair in a French braid and little baby hairs fluttering over her flawless eyebrows.
I’m formulating a reply when Dani’s eyes pop open wide. I glance behind me, hoping for Luca, but it’s Ree, looking pissed off as she elbows her way through the crowd.
Her eyes find Dani’s; I notice she doesn’t look at me. She throws her hands up. “We should go, girls. Mia Arnoldi is upstairs snorting coke and so are lots of other people. Some girl from Trinity saw and said she’s calling her dad if they don’t stop. He’s a cop and hero that she is, she doesn’t want people to die.” Ree rolls her eyes. “Luca’s gone already,” she tacks on at the end.
Her eyes barely meet mine.
And then I understand why.
Something catches my eye on the second-story balcony that hangs over the deck. Isa Arnoldi loves to fasten up her blonde hair with jewel-studded clips…so it’s her slim, pale form I notice first. And then I see something I’ll never unsee.
Isa’s head is leaned back, her pale hair falling over the rail. Someone’s moving over her. Someone’s making out with her like they’re drowning and she’s oxygen.
It’s Luca.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Luca
She’s like an octopus. I have to fucking peel her off me. I blink down to find her smiling coyly as my heart beats like it’s trying to break out of my chest.
“Was that good?” Her voice is soft. Her eyes are heavy-lidded, and I think she’s on something because her pupils have that glassy look I know way too well.
My throat feels so raw that I don’t think I can reply. I swallow hard, still frowning down at her, and choke out, “Sure.”
I want Elise. Every second I’m away from her feels like an injury. I don’t know how long I can go…but what this blonde girl has, I needed.
She throws her long braid over her shoulders. “We both know I’m better than ‘sure,’ Luca Galante. That would be the best kiss of your life if you weren’t hung up on Elise O’Hara.”
Hearing her name feels like a knife twisting behind my pecs.
“I love her.” I don’t think before I speak; the words, like all my actions tonight, feel automated.
“You must want to know about this Tony Diamond pretty badly, then, because Elise was down there on the patio. I saw
her friends all pointing at us. See right down there?”
“What?”
She leans over the rail, pointing. “Over there. I’m pretty sure I saw her.”
“Max said she’s not coming.” I asked if he’d heard from Elise and her friends the second that I got here.
Isa shrugs. “I guess she changed her mind.”
There’s a geyser of panic pulsing somewhere way down, but I don’t trust Isa Arnoldi enough to really worry. “Are you gonna tell me now?”
She walks inside the bedroom where I found her a few minutes ago. I watch as she pulls some lipstick from a handbag, starts to paint it on her mouth, then opens a small, round mirror.
“At the Columbus Building.” She snaps the mirror shut. “It’s my father’s place. It’s got twenty-something stories and it’s—”
“Used for parties.”
“How’d you know?” She steps closer. “Have I somehow missed you at one of my father’s parties, Luca blue eyes?”
“I don’t know.” I try to hide it from her, but I end up sort of gulping down some air because my head is spinning.
“Well, that’s where they are tonight. But listen: My family is fucked up. Well, Gabe’s actually okay—I think one day he’ll get out of here—but my father is…someone I would be careful around.” She blinks a few times, frowning as she pops open the mirror again.
“What’s the event?”
Her lips curl, dark magenta from the lipstick. “It’s a wedding of someone in my dad’s…organization. But your guy will definitely be there.” She wrinkles her nose. “He’s new.”
“Yeah.”
“Seems…doltish. What’d he do to you?”
My head is definitely spinning…and I can’t get enough air. I’m too warm, this room too small. I lick my lips and taste her lip stuff, and I think of Elise seeing what I just did even though I know she didn’t. My heart throbs in my eyes. “You sure he’s going to be there?”
“Yes. I heard my mother complaining that that group of guys would be there tonight.”
“Thank you,” I say to the girl. Isa.
Then I get the hell out.
Everything feels weird as I move downstairs. It’s like the air—the atoms all around me—are…not normal. Or I’m not. I don’t fit into the world the way I used to.
I flex my right hand. All the fingers shake. Downstairs is really crowded. I see a glass of liquor on a table, toss it back, and make a beeline for the front door. I’ll walk to someplace I can hail a cab.
A fresh-cut grass smell almost overwhelms me as I step outside and start down the cobblestone walk.
I’m thinking ahead, thinking of the passcode on the yacht, when someone grabs my shirt from behind. It’s the motion, I think—being pulled backward. It sets something off, and I’m shoving Jace before I even see his face. There are grunts—from both of us—a “what the fuck” from him. I think he calls me a bastard; I don’t know. He’s in the grass. I’m looking down at him.
“What the fuck!” He’s clutching his mouth. Blood drips through his fingers.
“Sorry.” I can’t look at blood, don’t understand what’s happening, so I leave his ass on the ground and walk. I can’t think straight. I need to run. I’m gritting my teeth, bracing for the pain a sprint is going to bring my shoulder, when I hear her screaming, “Luca!”
It’s like being dunked under the ocean. Everything goes quiet. I can hear my blood roar in my ears as I turn toward her, my whole body moving like a magnet.
I’m so focused on her, every atom in me fixed on the relief I feel—
But…is she crying? She sounds furious as she shouts, “Where have you been?”
“What?”
“Where have you been?” She’s maybe ten feet from me. I can see her face now, see the rage all on it. “I’ve been trying to find you!”
I can’t stand to see her upset, so I start toward her, but she throws her arms out. “No!” She’s panting like she’s hurt.
“What—” happened, I’m going to say, as she sobs, “What were you doing with her?”
“With who?”
“With Isa!”
I know how a log feels under a blanket of snow. I can’t move, can’t speak, can’t even think. It’s like I’m insulated from the moment. I take a few slow breaths as she cries into her hands.
“It was…nothing.” My voice doesn’t sound right.
Her eyes rise to meet mine, and they’re wide and teary.
“Isa…like. Elise, I don’t even know her.”
“What does that mean?” She’s near shrieking.
My dad died. I goad myself to fucking say it. My. Dad. Died.
There’s another universe that’s rolling like a film reel, layered right on top of this one, and in that world, this is when I tell her. I can whisper it, just a hoarse whisper, and she’ll have her arms around me.
My dad died. Those three awful words, and her face will crumple in empathy and understanding. I can hold onto her, and afterward I’ll explain Isa. She won’t care.
Instead, I’m looking at her. I’m watching her horror-stricken face. She’s so furious…about Isa, I guess. She looks like she’s losing her shit. I think how she doesn’t look like Elise.
I see Tony and I see my hands almost around his gun. I’m numb in the bathtub, running like a man on fire, screaming through the streets. Tearing up my house and leaving Mom and Soren at the hotel. And I feel so heavy. I can feel the weight of what’s in my head. I can taste the cool metal and see the paper with the story. Not a story, just one sentence. That’s all I am.
I look at her face, and I don’t see my heart, my rose, the other half of my soul who restores me.
I see someone young and hurt and fragile. Sensitive, responsive, beautiful and giving. She needs me. Elise.
I could step to her right now and hug her. I could hold her like I always do and keep her safe.
But it’s all bodies on cold floors. Tile and wood and squishy mats like at the salon. I can see the blood on the stage. I can see the red-soaked fibers of his jeans.
She’s upset—she’s devastated—over Isa. That’s because she doesn’t know. She is crying over paper cuts and I’m going to blow my head off.
I can’t touch her. I can’t even talk to her. It’s like I saw the meteor. She doesn’t know it’s even coming. She could live a nice life.
For me, there’s nothing left. I saw the inside of my father’s head. I’m not going to college.
She steps closer to me, hugging herself as her wide eyes beg me to do or say something that will make things normal. She’s begging me to be Luca.
Now’s the time to rip the Band-Aid off. Now’s the time to wreck this shit before she ends up on a salon floor. Now’s the time to make the printed sentence in the paper not hurt.
I look at her, and I try to get my thoughts to come out of my mouth. I observe that I’ve started to shake all over, and internally, I want to bow down to that power, to the power of Elise. She is my heart. Forever.
So it’s fitting that I rip it out.
I say, “I think that I need a change.”
I see the horror I should feel reflected on her perfect face. “What do you mean?” she whispers.
When I’m dead, I’ll haunt you in the best way. If you lose your keys, I’ll move them somewhere you can find them.
I’m breathing so fast I can’t speak to answer.
“What the hell do you mean?”
I blink, and she starts to weep. “Luca, are you breaking up with me?”
I nod. I’m like a puppet with a hand inside. The nod means nothing, but her face tells me it’s not the same for her.
I’m breaking up with Elise. I laugh at the insanity.
“What’s the matter with you?” she cries.
“Nothing.” I sound hoarse, but my voice steadies as I look at her and realize that she’ll never be the wife on the salon floor.
Something warmer rushes up my throat and burns my cheeks and sting
s my eyes as her lips tremble. Then she locks her face down, nods just once, and spins on her heel. She runs all the way to Max’s as I watch the moonlight move over the crown of her head. Then I turn and walk toward a street where I can hail a cab.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Luca
The cab driver says he’ll wait at the dock. I get out, surprised by how steady I feel. Lights and water. Everything smells like the water. I don’t like the dock now. Elise—everywhere, a ghost—and I just want to detach from it.
I know I owe Soren, but he’ll be all right. Soren’s smart. My mom… I think my dad had life insurance.
“I love you, Elise O’Hara. Always.”
“I love you more.”
“It hurts for girls. Close your eyes and take a few deep breaths.”
The passcode is the same. The gun is in the bathroom, in a drawer. I know it’s loaded because I checked when we were here on prom night.
It’s cold in my hand. I can’t tell if it’s heavy. I sink down to my knees in front of the toilet. Blue water. It smells like soap.
“Your dad’s a rat. He’s been squealing to the FBI.”
I don’t like this floating feeling. I stand up and I make myself check the gun. Still loaded. I don’t want to hurt Tony. I do want to, but I wouldn’t. I just want to tell him he’s a piece of shit and maybe scare him.
I want to talk to Roberto Arnoldi. I just want to know why.
After that…
Back inside the cab, where it smells like popcorn. The cab ride feels too long. The gun’s handle is grooved, like tiny diamonds in a rough rub pattern. I rub my thumb over it. It’s shoved into my pocket. I try to smile at the driver in the rear view mirror. Not a smile, but that thing you can do with your lips that’s like a greeting.
Don’t worry; it’s not for you.
My heart is still beating too fast. Racing. My heart’s racing. I just want Elise. Knowing that it’s over burns. I have to stop the burning, but I don’t know how.
Everything about the building is the same. I don’t like how I’m different.
