Fallon & Luca

by Soraya Naomi

  Luca stands there for several minutes staring at my back before he withdraws from the room, quietly closing the door.

  ***

  I stay home alone the entire day, coming to the conclusion that I have nothing substantial to base my suspicions on. Meanwhile, Luca doesn’t call or text. Maybe, just maybe, he’s telling the truth? My first mistake was that I never thoroughly questioned him. Time and time again, I failed to press the issue about anything that wasn’t sitting quite right with me.

  Ultimately, I appeal to my common sense and call Luca that night. He answers on the first ring, and I ask him to come home. Within an hour, he’s at my apartment.

  I’m half asleep in bed, lying on my stomach, when Luca enters my bedroom and gently flips me over. His shirt is already off, and he removes his pants and slides into bed next to me in his boxer briefs, facing me. Tentatively, I touch his troubled face; his skin is ice cold, even though it was warm today, so the temperature must’ve plummeted. I hold open my embrace as a peace offering, and he buries his nose in my neck while entangling our legs.

  “I’m sorry,” I mumble.

  “You don’t have to be,” he replies agonizingly softly. “I love you so much.” His arms tighten around me to press our bodies closer together, as if we’re one, and we drift off to sleep hugging one another.

  A few hours later, I wake up needing to use the bathroom and untangle myself from his grip.

  As I return to the bed, I pick up Luca’s clothes from the floor to throw them into the laundry basket and notice that the collar of his white shirt is splattered with brownish-red blotches. My pulse increases as understanding dawns on me that his shirt is stained with blood. Not a good sign.

  Luca stirs and sees me with his shirt in my hand.

  I sit down on the bed next to him and show him the stains. “What’s this?”

  He avoids my eyes and answers in a sleepy voice, “Nothing, Fallon.”

  “Did you fight tonight?” I cover his hand with mine in reassurance that I won’t be mad. However, I do want an explanation.

  “I was upset and some guy was goading me,” he admits with a sorrowful look.

  “Oh, Luca, I’m sorry you were so upset about us. I shouldn’t have left things unresolved. Are you hurt?” I ease back into the crook of his arm and rest my hand on his chest, although my first reaction of concern is abruptly replaced with more doubt.

  He’s lying.

  He clings to me, his hand caressing up and down my arm, and kisses me on the top of my head. “I’m fine now that I’m with you again. Tu sei il mio mondo. You’re my world.”

  “Weren’t you supposed to leave town again tonight?” I ask, not letting on that I think he’s being dishonest with me.

  “Yes, but I need to stay with you more, dolcezza.”

  We lie there quietly, finding comfort in each other’s arms, and even though I’m pleased to hear that he’s not leaving town again, when I finally fall asleep, my reservations are still occupying my thoughts.

  CHAPTER 21

  Luca

  Fallon’s breathing evens out and her hold on me loosens. She’s sleeping. With the tips of my fingers, I trace patterns across her bare shoulders.

  Today was a close call. The priest Fallon saw me with this morning is New York Syndicate’s boss, Leggia’s priest, Father Eli, who just moved from New York to Chicago. Leggia’s a religious man who went to Father Eli for confession when he lived in New York, so I paid Father Eli a visit in hopes of learning more about Leggia because the moment will come when he’ll try to use Fallon to blackmail me. He’s playing a game with me, and she’s his leverage.

  Father Eli is one of several mafia priests who have their own regulations and can get married. He was easily pressured with money and the threat of exposure of his love for young men, something he desperately wants to keep hidden from his wife and congregation, but my Capo, Adriano, can find out the dirtiest of secrets.

  Since I told Fallon I’d be gone for the weekend, I went to Father Eli and gave him an ultimatum: get valuable information on Leggia – information that Leggia doesn’t want anyone to know that will hurt him – or I’ll expose the photos I have in my possession of Eli in compromising positions with several underage men.

  I was supposed to visit the priest and then drive south to meet with James, but I saw Fallon right away when I was leaving the church. I’m trained to notice anything unusual, and someone staring at me and speedily retreating behind a tree is clearly unusual. So I put on my sunglasses to prevent her from witnessing the shock in my eyes.

  I knew that damage control was needed, but first things first, I had to deal with Father Eli, who attempted to send me away without accepting my offer. They always tell me to fuck off first and then run after me with their tail between their legs. And as my gun was in the inner pocket of my suit jacket, I aimed it at him, giving him two weeks to report back. When he agreed and hurried away, I quickly got into my car.

  I needed to think about how to handle Fallon because this was bad. She’s become progressively more distrustful lately. My first plan was to go to her apartment and tell the truth...well, part of it. But I knew if I suddenly revealed the entire truth now, she’d probably just run away from me, inadvertently putting herself in more danger. Then once I got there, I was expecting for her to demand an explanation, so I was prepared to provide her some answers, but when she didn’t mention that she’d caught me, I was unnerved and only left because I was thrown off by her secretive behavior, sure that it meant she was growing more suspicious. And on top of that, I couldn’t tell what was going on in her head, which doubled my anxiety when she simply dismissed me.

  After I left Fallon, I contacted James and told him that I couldn’t make it to our appointment tonight, and thankfully, he was too busy to ask why. Still confused about my encounter with Fallon, I met up with Adriano, who was having trouble with an associate, and our fight with that associate resulted in the bloodstains on my shirt. I must be more careful in the future because I never even noticed them.

  And even though I’m marginally reassured and glad that Fallon called me, her behavior is a sign that it’s only a matter of time before she finds out who I really am.

  I could’ve stayed away when I first met Fallon, but I didn’t do it then, and I’m in too deep to even consider it as an option anymore. Although it was never really an option.

  Unfortunately, Leggia, has me on edge around the clock. This dispute he has with our Syndicate is eating into my time with Fallon and has interfered with the relaxed life I’ve built with her, and that’s making me hostile.

  I need some space to deal with Syndicate business because she’s starting to cloud my judgment, and for the sake of Fallon’s safety, I can’t afford any distractions right now.

  CHAPTER 22

  Fallon

  Luca and I have been dating for almost six months, and another shift has occurred in our relationship. He’s been distancing himself from me ever since the first time I confronted him in my bedroom about the possibility that he wasn’t being completely honest with me. I feel it in the coldness of his kisses. I feel his unfriendliness when he comes home. He’s with me physically, but mentally, he’s worlds away, somewhere I can’t reach him. No matter how hard I fight, he’s drifting away from me. Nonetheless, I catch glimpses of him when we’re making love, but those fleeting moments aren’t enough to sustain this relationship anymore. On the other hand, those fleeting moments are constantly pushing me to keep fighting for us, even though I know something’s wrong – something he isn’t sharing with me.

  I ask Luca to join me for lunch on Wednesday, and although he’s reluctant to accept my invitation, my obvious exasperation at his refusal persuades him to meet me at the deli.

  When I duck inside the restaurant, Luca’s already waiting impatiently.

  “I don’t have much time, Fallon.”

  “I rarely see you, Luca. You can’t spare five minutes for me?” I slide into the chair.


  He blows out a frustrated breath. “I can, dolcezza. It’s just a busy time for our company right now.”

  “I get that, and I’m trying to be supportive, but this isn’t healthy for us.” I’m completely in the dark about what’s going on with him.

  “I’m not in the mood to argue,” he counters in a low voice.

  “Who’s arguing? I want us to talk, communicate,” I explain.

  “It’s only work, Fallon. We’re fine.” He doesn’t budge.

  I stare at him while he avoids my eyes. Sighing, I say, “Let’s order.”

  We eat within twenty minutes and head back out.

  Luca strokes the side of my face and combs my hair back. “Ti amo, dolcezza. Non ti preoccupare. I love you. Don’t worry.”

  That doesn’t appease me at all. Talking to him when he’s not ready is like pulling teeth.

  The usual sparks of love and lust are now replaced with thorns of mistrust when we say goodbye before Luca goes away on business again for the next two days.

  When I get back to my office, I diligently work for an hour until my boss, Alex, interrupts me.

  “Can I see you in my office?” he demands coldly and strides back out, expecting me to follow him.

  I get my notebook, ready for him to add to my workload.

  ***

  The next night, I’m not feeling any better. I’m emotional, nervous, and a little scared. For once, I’m glad Luca’s away on business. He’s already texted twice and left one voicemail today to ask what I’m doing, but I’ll text him later, because I need to be alone with my thoughts. Though sitting home alone is making me ever more worried. Luca can tell me with so much conviction that nothing is wrong. Everything is wrong. Maybe I should end this now? Maybe I’m not in too deep yet? I’m torn between ending this because of the unknown and continuing in the hopes that I’m mistaken about Luca.

  Therefore, I’m grateful when I find an old bottle of vodka in the kitchen cabinet that Teagan left behind. Holding it up, I read the label, unsure whether to drink it or not.

  “Screw it.” I’m about to open it when the doorbell rings, and I check the peephole before I unlock the door. “How did you get into the building?”

  “Neighbor let me in.” Jason shows me his white teeth.

  Welcoming him inside, I open the door wider.

  “A friend whom I was going to meet two streets from here canceled five minutes before our appointment, so I thought I’d come by to see you. I could tell you weren’t in a good mood yesterday, but I was so busy, I didn’t get a chance to talk to you.” He plops down onto the couch.

  Getting the vodka and two shot glasses from the kitchen, I pour two shots. “I feel like crap. I don’t want to talk.”

  Jason picks up his shot and clinks it with mine. “I’m a guy. You don’t have to tell me no talking twice. I prefer that too.” His lips stretch into a boyish grin.

  We toss back our shots and refill them immediately.

  After our third shot, Jason’s searching the coffee table. “Where’s your remote?”

  The alcohol is warming my body and slowly numbing the growing unease in my heart. “I have no idea. Give me one more shot.”

  “You’re going to regret it in the morning. You’ll be drunk in a few minutes if you continue.”

  He actually makes a good point. This is hitting me hard, and my head feels heavy. “Fine. No more shots for me then. I didn’t have dinner by the way.”

  “In that case, definitely no more for you.” He’s walking toward the TV, trying to locate the remote. “Did you freaking eat the remote?” he addresses me with his hands on his hips.

  “I never watch TV. Let me find it.” I stand up and hold my arms out in front of me to steady myself.

  Jason laughs at me. “You can’t even handle a few shots.”

  I smile at him. “I already feel a little drunk.”

  “I can tell from that ridiculous smirk on your face.”

  I reach him and open the drawer of the entertainment center to rummage around. “Do you really need to watch TV? Read a magazine.” Grabbing a magazine from the drawer, I throw it at him.

  He catches it and flings it aside. “That’s it.” Jason advances on me and starts to tickle me because he knows I’m extremely ticklish.

  “Stop it!” I yell through my giggles, trying to capture his hands, and curl down onto the floor to stop him from reaching my underarms, twisting as Jason lies on my back. “St-Stop!”

  “You needed a good laugh and to unwind.” He’s trying to wiggle his hand under my down-pressed arm. “Come on, little one.”

  “Shut up,” I croak between exhausting laughs. “Stop!”

  Then suddenly, my front door swings open, and Jason and I turn our heads as one to see Luca running at us. He hauls Jason off me, flinging him aside, and Jason grunts as he falls back onto the wooden coffee table with all his weight.

  Luca’s silently fuming, towering over Jason and seizing him by his shirt with both fists. “What. Is. Going. On. Here.”

  I snap out of my astonishment, jumping up. “No! It’s only Jason.” And I yank Luca’s arm to get him to let Jason go.

  His glower is in full force and turned on me as he looks down into my eyes. “The colleague?”

  “Yes! Let him go,” I plead.

  “Dude, I was only tickling her,” Jason pipes in.

  Luca’s grip tightens briefly, and Jason holds up his hands in defense while Luca glares at him scathingly before he shunts Jason away. “Leave. Now.”

  “Are you okay with that, Fallon?” Jason adjusts his clothes.

  “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I’m so sorry,” I say and nod toward the door for him to get out of here.

  He walks out as Luca directs his aggravation at me.

  “Call me,” Jason mouths before he clears out.

  “Where have you been all day?” Luca asks in a dead calm tone as if nothing happened just now.

  The alcohol in my system is slowing down my reaction time. “What?”

  “Where have you been all day?” he repeats, continuing to scowl at me.

  “Home.”

  “Then why couldn’t you send a text back or answer your goddamn phone?”

  “I- I was going to later, but...” I sigh in frustration. “I’m just sad about everything between us. And Jason deserves an apology from you.”

  “He’ll get one,” Luca counters. “I need you to answer your phone from now on, always.”

  “Yes, okay.” In my foggy mind, I recall that he isn’t supposed to be back until tomorrow. “Why are you home early?”

  “Because I can’t function when we distance ourselves from each other.” Flashes of anger and sorrow flicker across his face.

  “You distance yourself from me,” I murmur.

  His eyelids drift shut, and he takes my hand and kisses my fingers. When they open, his pupils have dilated, making his eyes terrifyingly indistinct.

  “Luca—”

  Despite my effort to talk, he’s off in his own world. His lips crash down on mine as he forces me backward until he pins me against the wall and lifts me up, parting my thighs around him so that I have to hook my ankles together behind his back. His straining erection is pressing against my dampening heat as my skirt rides up my hips. Without breaking our kiss, Luca unbuttons his pants, and arousal floods me when he tears my panties off. Then he slams inside to the hilt, and my back curves to take him in. The fullness of adjusting to him erases the empty feeling that’s been lingering since he left, and I gasp in delight. Luca bites my lips and pushes his tongue into my mouth, desperately seeking mine. All the while, my back is scraping against the wall as he vehemently drives into me. Both of his hands powerfully palm my ass to hold me up while my nails dig into his shoulders. My head falls back in sheer ecstasy, and I scream in pleasure and pain as my alcohol-infused body tingles.

  Luca buries his face in my cleavage with hints of a growl in his rasping tone. He’s relentlessly fucking me, and I’m not sure wheth
er his arduous thrusts are meant to punish me or himself. A rush of heat floods my lower abdomen, and I revel in my orgasm when it hits me as he keeps up his pace. Then, mere seconds later, he withdraws and places me on my feet.

  “I need to come on you,” he demands in a dangerously soft tone, and he yanks open my blouse and unclasps my bra.

  I kneel in front of Luca before I wrap my hand around the base of his hard-on, and he presses the tip of his erection to the swell of my breasts. I pump the silky skin and look up at him as he cups the back of my head with his one hand and steadies himself with his other palm flat against the wall.

  Our eyes lock as his arousal twitches and he releases on my breasts with a satisfying groan, slowing his movement as he rides out his climax. He then takes his erection in hand and spreads his load over my nipples. Marking me. Pacifying his jealous tendencies.

  Worn out from the combination of alcohol and sex, I can barely stay awake. Luckily, Luca steps out of his pants and picks me up, cradling me to him as he carries me to the bedroom and lays me down on the bed. Gently, he removes my clothes and cleans me with a warm washcloth.

  I manage to pry open my eyes and watch him tenderly take care of me. As if he senses I’m not sleeping, he meets my gaze. His handsome features are saddened by a grim look, and he tries to smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

  “Dormi, dolcezza. Sleep, sweetheart.”

  I roll onto my side, and moments later, Luca slips in behind me, tucking me against his chest. He buries his nose in my hair while holding me tightly around my middle.

  “Ti amo, amore mio.” I love you, my love.

  But at this point in our confusing relationship, I can’t say it back anymore.

  CHAPTER 23

  Fallon

  The average person lives eighty years – that’s 29,200 days. When I come to realize that, an average life, in days, seems infinitely small. Only 29,200 days. A whole lifetime of memories, of love lost and love found, exists within 29,200 days. Shouldn’t I strive for happiness in those 29,200 days? Shouldn’t I stop worrying about inconsequential matters? Shouldn’t I relish in every moment of every day? I figure that I probably should, so I keep repeating that to myself. Only, my mantra loses its power when every day, that voice inside my head screams to be acknowledged. I can’t keep deluding myself by thinking that what I’m worried about is insignificant. What may have started as inconsequential has turned into something very consequential, and it’s slowly tearing Luca and me apart.