by Soraya Naomi
Suddenly, he motions to my forehead. “You went to the hairdresser.”
I swipe my bangs to the side and smile, loving that he notices it because the last time I saw him – the morning after the ecstasy incident, which was two months ago – I did have a different hairstyle. My hair was combed back because my bangs were too long.
I pull a deep breath into my lungs to steady my voice and prepare to tell him about Collopy’s phone call. Whether coincidental or not, the fact that we’ve run into each other now, right after the blackmail call, is a sign to me that I need to tell him about it. She’s police; what else can I do?
“I need your help, Luca,” I utter the words that he told me I would months ago.
His lips thin in a straight line. “Are you in trouble?”
Wringing my hands together in my lap, I nod my head and decide to be completely forthcoming because I have nothing to lose anymore. “I’m sure you’re aware that there’s an investigation about Alex that involves me. A certain note was found in his safe.”
“Yes, I’m aware. Continue,” he orders in a formal tone and seems to be in a hurry, frequently stealing glances around the coffee shop.
“A detective just called to inform me they’re re-opening the case, which seems strange because the detective on the case told me a few weeks back it was closed. Her name is Collopy.”
His eyes widen, then darken with rage. “When?”
“Just now, right before I walked in here. She contacted me out of nowhere and attempted to blackmail me.” I lean forward against the table and lower my voice. “The investigation was closed by the detective on the case, Wade. Collopy was working with him. Out of nowhere, Collopy calls me, threatening me with new evidence that she’s found that will make me suspect number one. But she didn’t elaborate. She demanded thirty thousand dollars within twenty-four hours. She sounded very agitated and nervous, and I...I don’t know what to do. When I hung up, I saw you sitting here.”
The silence stretches between us, and the discussions of other patrons invade our conversation.
Luca then also leans forward, trapping my legs between his and dropping his voice. “You know what pisses me the fuck off? How you ask for my help as a last resort while I have been the one protecting you every step of the way from day one.”
Stunned by the venom in his tone, I remain quiet because I do need his help. Angering him won’t benefit me, and I want to know what the hell’s going on. I’m the one who’s still in the dark here.
While leaning back, he demands, “What else did she say?”
“She’s going to call back tomorrow.” I can’t avert my gaze from his intense expression.
“This is the last time I’m going to ask you this, and I expect honesty now, Fallon, or else I can’t help you. Do you get that?”
“Yes,” I hastily answer.
“What did she say to you, verbatim?”
“She wants thirty-thousand dollars. She’ll contact me within twenty-four hours with instructions about where to transfer the money to.” I pause and keep our stare locked. “She mentioned you, Luca, so you also need to be honest. What’s going on here? Did Alex write the note, or did you, or someone else from the Syndicate? Or is she somehow involved? Has this got anything to do with me, or is she some psycho ex-lover of yours? I haven’t told you before now because I had no idea who wrote the note. And Wade gave me a false sense of security when he said the case was closed.”
He runs his fingers over his beard. “She wrote the note. I didn’t do anything with her while I was with you. She and I happened long before I met you.”
Well, my instinct was right. The moment she mentioned DeMiliano with spite, I knew she was the one behind this and not Luca or the Syndicate. “Did you know from the start about the note?”
“No. I found out about it two weeks after Alex’s death.”
“Was my unwillingness to divulge anything to you the reason why you’ve changed so much toward me?” I ask as his hand is resting on the table, and I’m dying to touch him.
“Partly. I meant it when I said that it gutted me when you cut me out of your life.”
I blow out a soft breath. “I was confused then. I’m still confused, but I’ve finally started living my life again.”
“You should’ve talked to me.” He gulps heavily, betraying that his cool composure is just a façade.
Even though we’re not sitting far from each other, the distance between us is greater than ever. Where we used to always be comfortable with one another, we’re both extremely ill at ease at the moment.
“I realize that now, in hindsight,” I admit. “Can you help me?”
“Yes.” His stare holds a taunting I told you I would.
“How?” I retort, hating that he’s still being vague.
“She won’t bother you anymore. I’ll take care of the note and her. Was that all?”
Is he trying to get rid of me?
I nod my head.
“Good. If she calls you again, or if anything happens, you contact me immediately, Capito?” Understand?
This is an easy one. I already understood simple Italian words and phrases when we dated. “Si.” Yes.
And at last, I’m greeted by a widening grin, and I wink at him. His hand balls into a fist, making me think he’s also fighting his emotions. Neither of us breaks eye contact, and I can feel a pull building between us. This is the first real, open conversation we’ve had since the summer, since I was kidnapped, and it fuels the longing I still have for Luca. Flashes of our last time together in the bathroom of Cocktails & Heels send tingles straight to my lower stomach.
Then I remember to ask about Camilla. “How’s Camilla?”
His face freezes in lines of tension that harden almost imperceptibly. “None of your business.”
The mention of her turns him cold. Why? I’ve gotten a lot of answers today, but I still need to find out about Camilla. “Please, I need to know if she’s okay.”
“I can’t answer that; she’s missing.”
“What? How?” I whisper-shout and shoot the customer at the next table an apologetic look when her head whips toward my elevated voice.
Luca releases an irritated breath. “Calm down. We simply fired her, and then she disappeared. We don’t know where she is. You haven’t talked to her?”
“No, I swear, but she crosses my mind often because it’s impossible to find any semblance of peace until I know she’s okay.”
I’m tempted to tell him how much I miss him, but his distant behavior is setting all kinds of alarm bells off. I don’t get the chance to speak my mind because a shadow falls over our table, and Luca hurriedly releases my legs, which were still trapped between his. My head turns to a waitress with her coat hanging off her arm and bag dangling from her hand. Her attention is focused on Luca and his on her.
My mouth drops open slightly as realization dawns on me that he wasn’t here to reminisce about our past, but for her. It’s the same waitress that was always flirting with him when we were here together, and the scowl she used to give me has turned into a full-blown glare today. Blinking repeatedly to hide my whirling emotions, I catch Luca’s eyes, and I’m confronted with his despondent silence while he avoids looking at me.
“Are you ready?” she asks in an annoyingly sweet and innocent tone and rests her hand on his shoulder as my glower is fixed on Luca’s face.
He moves away from her touch, and I’ve never seen him this uncomfortable. If I thought the situation was awkward before, I think both of us really want to vanish into thin air at this point.
The waitress ignores the tension between us and takes a step toward the exit.
“I’ll be right there,” he murmurs to her.
She gives me an indignant look before turning on her heel and waiting at the door for Luca.
He opens his mouth to say something then shuts it while I’m pursing my lips together to hold in my tears from seeing him with another woman. They’re going on a date.
It never occurred to me that he would be dating again. Now I understand how he felt after seeing me with Evan. He shakes his head slowly and rises while I keep my attention straight ahead on his espresso cup.
“I’ll let you know when Collopy’s handled.”
I look up through my lashes and attempt to form a smile. “Thank you.”
And I quickly concentrate on the cup as his eyes burn holes into me. He stands there without moving a muscle, and I muster up all my courage to say what I’m feeling. Jealousy always creeps up when you don’t want it to. Even though I have no right to request this because I ended it with him, I can’t hold it in.
“Luca, don’t go with her,” I plead while the woman waits in the doorway for him.
Indecision sweeps over his appearance as he peers down at me, and then all the sorrow, love, and regret of the past months blister to the surface. Just when I’m hopeful to recognize a hint of my Luca, he blinks and his eyes turn unrecognizably cold. I don’t know how long he watches me, clenching his jaw, but without saying a word, he ultimately turns and joins her. He chooses her and walks out the door.
Don’t cry.
I close my eyes tightly while his rejection stabs my heart, and a few tears stream down my cheeks. Wiping them away with the back of my hand, I leave the coffee shop as well, stepping out in the other direction. That’s where life has taken us, in two different directions. He’s moved on without me because I could never accept his world. He’s moved on while I’m still stuck with an irreparably broken heart. Sometimes I wish I’d never ignored his messages because that’s what caused the distance.
Time has weakened any anger I had toward Luca for lying, and all that’s left now is the love still thrumming passionately in every cell in my body.
With hurried paces, I end up at my front door. Seeing Luca clouded my judgment because I didn’t even bother to ask how he was going to take care of Collopy. Maybe somewhere deep down, I don’t want to know.
I let misplaced jealousy overrule my thoughts, and I honestly can’t blame him for rejecting me after I’ve slammed the door on us so many times before. But it still hurts and magnifies the emptiness he’s left behind.
Opening the door, I take two steps into my apartment and am completely blindsided when my forehead collides with the wall. I cry in pain as my keys and purse drop from my hand. The door is kicked shut as a body presses against my back and a fist knots roughly in my hair.
“You fucking bitch, I knew you would run to him,” a woman snaps in my ear as my head is yanked back and then smashed against the wall again.
A burning ache spreads out from my nose, and warm liquid gushes over my lips and chin – I’m bleeding. Completely disoriented, I try to crane my neck, but the pain throbbing in my head prevents any movement. However, I don’t need to see to confirm it’s Collopy. How did she get in?
“Did you two plan this? It’s very convenient that he was right inside the coffee shop, wasn’t it? Because of that asshole, I can’t live my life anymore! Fuck, I’m being set up,” she yells, more to her herself, through her ragged breathing. “He isn’t untouchable, you know. He thinks he’s god and can do whatever he wants without any consequences.”
Collopy must have been watching me when she called. During her mad tirade, her unyielding grasp in my hair loosens, and I push off the wall with all my strength, sending us flying backward and tumbling onto the ground, missing the coffee table by inches.
She recovers far easier than I do and rolls on top of me, spitting in my face as she continues her rant, “What the fuck am I supposed to do now?”
My double vision clears slightly, and I can see that Collopy has obviously been beaten. Her face and neck are covered in bruises and nasty cuts. On instinct, I dig my nails into the wounds on her neck to inflict the most pain.
“Argh...fuck!” She spasms in agony, and I take the opportunity to propel her off me.
I brace the table and try to stand, but I’m still dizzy, and my legs sway as I blink frantically to clear my eyesight. Unexpectedly, I fly forward when she kicks me hard in my lower back, and my temple hits the sharp edge of the coffee table.
Then everything goes black.
CHAPTER 15
Luca
Fallon seems so small and fragile, peering up at me. “Luca, don’t go with her.”
The tremble in her voice almost obliterates my resolution to keep a certain distance for my own protection. She has no idea how fucking much I miss her. Every. Single. Day. I’ve forgotten about the other woman waiting for me at the door while I’m lost in her amber eyes.
I’ve visited the coffee shop three times over the past four months because it gives me comfort to be here, where our relationship began. And of course, I run into Fallon on the one day that I wish I wouldn’t. Brenda asked me out again today, and taking Adriano’s advice to date, to live a little again, I finally agreed.
However, it’s gutting me to witness the hurt stemming from Fallon’s body now. Her body that has changed: her hips are curvier and her cheeks are fuller, adding even more beauty to her already stunning appearance.
I always thought that this moment – when she confides in me and asks directly for help – would be more satisfying. Instead, it’s merely solidifying the wedge between us.
We hadn’t had any contact for an excruciatingly long two months, but as long as I knew she was doing well, I could go on with my life. We never found out who was behind drugging her drink in that bar, which to this day still displeases me. And David always came back with positive updates about her daily life, no more weird incidents. She was fine, and James ordered me to let it go because I was using too many Syndicate resources to find out who spiked her drink. I decided that I had to take control over my obsession to protect her, so I let her go, but she’s still never far from my mind.
God, I want to stay and blow Brenda off, but I’m not starting this again with her. I won’t survive losing her again when she finds out something about my Syndicate life that she can’t understand. If I stay, I’ll regress, and I need to keep moving on with my life.
I’ve tortured men for hours without an ounce of remorse. But walking away from Fallon when she confesses, in her own way, that she misses me is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.
In my fantasy, I ravage and reclaim her, bruising her luscious lips with mine. Though in reality, I turn my back to Fallon without acknowledging her words, and it cripples me that she has to witness me leaving with Brenda, so I practically shove Brenda out the door.
“Where shall we go?” Brenda asks.
Shut up. I’m devastated by my dismissal of Fallon.
As I pass the window, Fallon’s staring at the table, and my heart explodes with guilt when she tightens her lips together to hold back the impending tears. And just as I see a few tears spill, she’s out of sight.
Seeing Fallon like that makes me realize that I can’t do this, so I ditch Brenda. “Brenda, something’s come up. I have to go.” And I cross the busy street before she can reply.
She yells something at me, but I simply ignore her because I have more important things to take care of. I’m surprised that Collopy is back in the Loop and contacted Fallon. I’ve blocked all of Collopy’s accounts and have been searching for her for a long time. Adriano found out she was living in a homeless shelter outside the Loop a few weeks back, and she got into a fight there, but after that, she was untraceable again. Now she’s blackmailing Fallon, either to retaliate or because she desperately needs money to, most likely, leave the country in order to stay out of my clutches.
After rounding the corner to step into the dimly lit garage where my car is parked, I fish out my phone to update Adriano. But when I hear footsteps approaching behind me, I let the phone slide back into my pocket and spin around just as someone covers my head with a bag, and I’m unable to grab my gun in time.
“What the fuck—”
Another person pulls my arms back while I struggle, but I manage to head-butt the perso
n in front of me, which is answered with what feels like his fist hitting the side of my head. The other man strengthens his hold, ties my hands, and then takes my gun from the back of my pants.
“A gun. Interesting,” a low male voice says. “Move.”
I’m shunted forward, and I hear a door being opened. Then I’m pushed inside to lie on my front while a foot is planted harshly into my back.
Now we’re moving. I’m in the back of a vehicle – my guess is a van. I start counting and listening intently to determine if I can distinguish any outside noises, but I’m distracted when the bag is pulled up slightly and something soft is pressed roughly against my mouth and nose.
I lose consciousness.
***
I’m shackled by my arms and feet – immobilized on a board that’s inclined twenty degrees so that my feet are above my head – when I wake in a concrete room with one yellow light bulb hanging from the ceiling. My throat is dry, and I have no idea how long I’ve been unconscious.
Two men in black clothing enter, wearing black gloves and masks so that I can only see their eyes. One of them holds a watering can in his hand.
I struggle uselessly in the restrains and realize my phone is still in my pocket.
Cazzo! Fuck! They’re going to waterboard me.
They’re going to shock my system without having me lose consciousness to keep me on the agonizing border between life and death.
For the first time in years, I panic when water is poured onto my inclined face by the man to my left so that it runs into my upturned mouth and nose. As I cough and try to blow it out, the other person covers my mouth with cling wrap to keep the water trapped inside. Water flows into my throat, nose, and sinuses; however, my lungs don’t fill up because my chest is elevated above my head and neck to prevent suffocation, but I do feel my breathing passages drowning from the inside, causing extreme pain. The unbearable sensation of drowning causes my entire body to convulse in the restraints, almost breaking my bones in the process. It lasts a few seconds, but those few seconds tick by excruciatingly slowly.
