Fallon & Luca

by Soraya Naomi

  Gio screams and kicks wildly into thin air as he dangles off the hook.

  “Open. Your. Eyes,” Adriano repeats while gritting his teeth.

  He obeys while coughing, irritating Adriano.

  “Fucker! Now my clothes are completely ruined! Where is Ashton Banks?”

  He wheezes as red lines of blood stream down his lips and throat. “I-I don’t...know.”

  “Don’t make this harder on yourself by lying. You must have been in contact with him. When did you last speak to him?”

  “...Yesterday...”

  Adriano pushes the silencer under Giovanni’s chin. “Where was he?”

  “I-Is Sal coming for me?”

  “Yes, if you help us, I’ll give you back to Sal,” Adriano lies without remorse.

  Does this guy not even realize that he’s already a dead man within his own organization?

  Sweat trickles down his forehead. “...Lake Forest.”

  My chair grates across the concrete floor as I fly up and crowd Gio in a sudden move, pushing away Adriano while I fist Gio’s hair roughly. “Why Lake Forest?”

  Astounded, he stammers, “H-he was...following someone.”

  Adriano tugs me back. “Wait, we need lucid answers before you lose your shit.” And he resumes his position. “Who was he following? I’m only going to ask this once.”

  “...A girl.”

  “Name?” he asks.

  “Uh...Michaels.”

  I break out in a cold sweat and bolt out of the room to my car while fishing out my phone.

  “Luca!” Adriano’s on my tail, so I click the button that rolls down my window as I push the key into the ignition, missing twice.

  “Follow me. This takes precedence, you hear me!” I step on the gas, screeching the tires on a hard turn and leaving a cloud of dust in my trail.

  Connecting the phone to my car charger, I skate red lights and swerve around the cars that don’t get out of my way fast enough toward Lake Forest, which isn’t far from here. Fallon’s probably visiting her parents, and I’m desperately trying to remember her father’s name because I don’t know her parents’ address. During our six-month relationship, I never once met them.

  So I contact my hacker. “Henry, I need the address of Fallon Michaels’ parents. I think her father’s name is...Noah. Yes! Noah Michaels, get me the address immediatamente!” Immediately!

  “I’m on it.”

  I finally return Fallon’s call, and she picks up instantly. She lets out a strangled sound, and I can’t discern whether she’s crying or gagging.

  “Fallon, where are you?”

  She’s sniffing, and incoherent words are coming out of her mouth. “...Mom...called you...often.”

  “Are you at your parents’ house?” Hitting the gas harder, I speed up as sheer panic fills my veins. “Fallon, you have to tell me if you’re at your mom’s. I’m already on my way.”

  “Uh-huh.” She hick-ups.

  Not knowing what I’ll step into, I need more answers from her. “Is your mom hurt? Where’s your father?”

  She’s disconcertingly quiet while Henry texts me the address, which I enter into the GPS. A loud honk shocks me, and I yank at my steering wheel when I look up from the GPS. My vehicle is veering into the other lane, almost hitting an approaching car, whose bright lights blind me for a second, but I’m able to swerve back into the correct lane.

  “Fallon!” I shout. “Where are your parents? Are you alone in the house?”

  “They’re here with me. They’re dead,” she suddenly mentions indifferently.

  “Fallon? Fallon!” She doesn’t answer, so I scream her name repeatedly, but I can’t even hear her breathing into the receiver. She must have dropped the phone because it didn’t disconnect. “I’ll be there within fifteen minutes,” I yell, hoping she’ll hear me.

  Clutching one hand in my disheveled hair, I have a sick feeling in my stomach.

  The phone alerts me of Adriano’s incoming call. “Where are you going?”

  “She’s at her parents’. It’s not good; they’re dead.”

  “Fuck! Is she all right?”

  “I have no idea. Are you behind me?” I ask while passing another idiot who’s driving too slowly.

  “Yes, a few cars behind.”

  “I’m going inside the house when I get there. I need you to scope out the area and make sure everything’s safe.”

  ***

  I park behind a metallic SUV in the driveway of a typical, old-fashioned suburban house and grab my compact semi-automatic Smith & Wesson with the silencer from the glove compartment before jumping out of the vehicle.

  Of course, the front door is locked. I knock and wait, but no one comes to open it. I scan the area – lights are on in most of the houses, but the street is pretty much deserted. I take the risk, and thankfully, the faint thud of my bullet destroying the lock doesn’t resound loudly into the night. Pieces of the shattered lock clatter onto the porch.

  I push open the door with my shoulder and softly call her name while stepping through the silent, dark hall. “Fallon?”

  No reaction, so I keep moving forward and tap the suppressor against the first door to my right to push it open; it’s the empty kitchen. A creaking noise from behind has me swiveling around lightning fast with my gun directed at the front entrance, but it’s just the draft of the wind ghosting the door open. Even though it’s cold with the breeze flowing through the hall, and I’m in just my dress shirt, my hands are sweating profusely.

  Continuing on down the hall, I can distinguish Fallon’s soft cries and dash forward, following the sounds to the last room on the left. I aim my weapon inside a study and freeze for a moment when, as the moonlight illuminates the room slightly, I witness a horrendous crime scene. A dead body with a massive reddish-brown circle pooling around the head is lying right next to the door. I presume it’s her father, who was shot in the head.

  Sitting on the floor in front of the desk and clutching her mother’s corpse in her lap is Fallon. She strokes her mother’s hair while she makes almost imperceptible noises. Her mom’s blood is painted on Fallon’s clothes and hands and streaked across her face, leaving dark stains where it’s dried up. Stains that will become new scars. More emotional scars for Fallon. Clearly in a state of complete shock, she looks up with impenetrable eyes and shrieks when she spots me, covering her face with her arms.

  Snapping out of my own astonishment, I stash my gun in the back of my pants and close the distance between us.

  “It’s only me.” I tug on her arms, but she fights me. “Fallon, it’s Luca. We have to get out of here. Come, sweetheart,” I coax while swallowing back the brick in my throat.

  Slowly, she lets her guard down, but her hand moves immediately to her mother’s head in her lap. Her mom has been shot in the chest and has already turned white and purple.

  “Mom, wake up,” she whispers as tears pour down her blood-streaked face.

  Dragging my hands through my tousled hair, I wonder how long she’s been sitting here with the bodies. Since she called me at lunch? Where are the police? Didn’t she contact them? Or her new friend, Wade?

  “Luca?!” Adriano yells from the entrance.

  “Last room on the left,” I answer and palm her face with one hand. “We have to go.” I try to tug her up, but she swats my hand away.

  “No! I can’t leave them. Look what they did!” she screams and cries so loudly that I’m completely thrown off about what to do.

  Who are they? I’m positive Ashton killed them, but did she witness the kill? Was there someone else with him?

  “Are you hurt?” I’m unsure whether all the blood on Fallon is her mother’s.

  Her entire body trembles as she gently rests her mom’s head back on the floor and crawls to her father – sweeping more blood over the floor – just as Adriano enters with wide eyes.

  Fallon ignores us, or maybe she isn’t even aware that we’re in the room with her, so I mouth to my Capo, �
��What do I do?”

  With excessive hand gestures, he utters, “Pick her up, and get her out of here. Police?”

  I pull up both shoulders because she hasn’t disclosed anything to me. “I’ll call you once we’re home, and I’ve talked to her. You stay here.”

  He nods, and I stride to Fallon who’s now staring at her father’s unrecognizable face. She kicks and screams when I pick her up from the floor under her knees and arms, but I strengthen my grip while Adriano holds her legs.

  “No! No! I want to stay with them.”

  I hug her to me tightly, smearing the blood from her onto my own clothes. “Shhh. Adriano’s going to take care of it. We can’t stay. You’re in shock, and we need to leave because I don’t know if you’re in danger by staying here.”

  Twining her arms around my neck, she buries her face in my chest as her entire body shakes with her heartbreaking cries, which causes a lone tear to leak from my own eye because her grief pains my soul.

  Adriano steps back to let us out, and I hurry to the car.

  I place her down softly in the passenger seat, and she curls into the seat, making it impossible for me to buckle the seatbelt.

  Once we’re on our way, she just stares at nothing as her cries subside. My gaze briefly leaves the road to find her staring at me, so I palm her face to rub my thumb over her cheek, and her tears start to trickle down my hand. We drive back to the Loop in silence, with Fallon using my hand as a pillow.

  ***

  As soon as the elevator doors of my penthouse close, I sweep Fallon up into my arms and carry her to my bathroom to get her out of these clothes. It’s upsetting her to see herself covered in her parents’ blood.

  She sways slightly from exhaustion when I place her on her feet, and her eyes are completely swollen from crying.

  I keep my voice whisper soft. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

  Her fragile appearance saws at my heart as she nods dully while her irregular breathing is loud between the bathroom walls.

  After pulling her sweater over her head, I bend down to remove her boots and unbutton her jeans. A pang of guilt hits me for ignoring her calls the entire day as she silently obeys me now, resting her hands on my shoulders as I strip her clothes. I’m stunned that she hasn’t asked to be taken home and is allowing me to help her. After four months apart, it feels like we never broke up because I’m taking care of her as if she’s still my girlfriend.

  She stands before me naked, so I hurriedly remove my own clothes, and we step into the shower. I let her stand under the stream of hot water alone. She closes her eyes and tips her head back, washing the blood from her face, neck, and hands. Crimson turns pink when it mingles with the water and courses down her body, cleaning this nightmare from her skin.

  Taking the white wash cloth she always used and left behind – the one I could never make myself throw away – I lather it with my body wash.

  She opens her eyes, and I close the already short distance between us. Her head rests against my chest, and she hooks her arms around my waist as I suds her back in a circular motion while her cries start all over again. Mirroring her action, I hug her tightly and kiss the top of her head, sifting the wet strands of hair out of her face.

  Minutes tick by as she calms, and when her body has finally stopped convulsing from her misery, I gently say, “Fallon, for your protection I need to ask you a few questions, okay?” I pull back and cup her cheek as the steam rises around us, and she nods while sniffing. “Did you witness it?”

  She shakes her head.

  “Did you find them when you called me at lunch today?”

  She nods.

  So she was in that house for hours with the bodies. I have to advise Adriano of our course of action. If the Lake Forest Police Department has been notified, that would mean more intricate planning. And I don’t even know if Fallon wants me to interfere, but that’s a question for later.

  “Did you call the police?” I ask.

  She nods again.

  Frowning, I probe, “When? Where were they?”

  In a broken voice, a voice I don’t recognize, she answers quietly, “Right before you found me. I didn’t know what to do when I couldn’t reach you or Wade.”

  The mention of Wade aggravates me, but I cram it down. “Do I need to notify anyone tonight? We can take care of everything else tomorrow.”

  She shrugs with a puckered brow.

  “Are there any family members you need to contact tonight?” I clarify while rubbing the washcloth up and down her arm.

  “No. Are the police going to contact me?”

  “Yes, as next of kin. We need to contact them right away because you were at the crime scene, but I’ll have Adriano handle the police for now. We’ll just tell them he’s a close family friend. Do you want that?”

  Again, she nods.

  “Everything else can wait.”

  Her mouth contorts as her eyes fill with tears again, so I enfold her in my embrace, and a few minutes later, I dry her and wrap a thick cotton robe around her still trembling body.

  In the bedroom, she stands timidly while watching the stars from the floor-to-ceiling windows with her palm pressed against the glass.

  “I’ll be right back. You can lie in bed if you want.” I throw on my black boxer briefs and sweatpants.

  First, I order some food from Wok-to-Go, which is located down the street, knowing they’ll deliver quickly. Second, I contact Adriano.

  “The police arrived,” he informs me as soon as he answers.

  “That’s why I’m calling you.”

  “I didn’t stay in the house, but I did go through it once. Did you enter from the back or front?”

  Opening the first drawer of the kitchen island, I lift the bottom to take out a twenty-dollar bill from the stack of cash I have hidden in there. “Front. Why?”

  “The back entrance was also tampered with. Ashton must’ve gotten in via the back. You and Fallon messed up the entire crime scene.”

  “Well, nothing I can do about that. That guy is a menace to everyone. Why kill her parents? What would he ever gain by doing that?”

  “I think this goes to show you how far off the deep end Ashton is. Like you said, we backed him into a corner, and now he’s lashing out. I think he just wants to hurt her in his own stupid ways now. It seems like he was targeting her parents. However, it’s also possible something happened, and he acted hastily, shot them, and ran.”

  “I know I sound like a broken record, but find him. NOW!”

  “I’m trying to,” he declares. “But now I have other priorities. How do I handle the police? They’re in the house, and I’m in my car waiting a few streets over. They’re going to contact Fallon soon since she’s their only child.”

  “Go to the house. Tell them you’re a close family friend and that Fallon is now with a friend, and she’s in shock because she was in the house with the bodies for a long time. Be honest, and tell them that she moved her mother’s body. Don’t interfere with anything else until I’ve spoken to her about what she wants to do tomorrow. They can’t contact her anyway because she doesn’t have her phone, and I forgot to get her bag. Get her phone and purse. They must be inside the house.”

  “I already got them. The purse was in the entryway, and the phone was on the floor in the study, covered in blood. I’ll clean the phone and bring them to you tomorrow, and then you can give me an update.”

  After I end the call with Adriano, the receptionist notifies me that my food has arrived, so I wait at the elevator until the doors open. Grabbing the container of Chinese chicken noodles from the delivery guy, I pay him and return to my room.

  “I ordered dinner,” I say softly.

  Fallon’s climbed into bed, with her back to me, and refuses to turn around, but her well-mannered behavior triumphs. “Thank you.”

  Setting the container of food on the nightstand, I round the bed and drop down beside it in front of her; however, she keeps ignoring me and stares
at the view. My hand travels up the curve of her hip, and I jostle her so that she’ll acknowledge me. Her saddened eyes lock with mine, and I see a look that will trouble me for a long time. The day will come when her anger prevails, after she’s put the pieces of the puzzle together, and she’ll blame me or the Syndicate for her parents’ murder. But right now, she’s just too lethargic to grasp what happened. Her wounds are too fresh.

  “Eat a little.” I circle my palm over her hip.

  Her stare wanders back to the clouds drifting away. “And then what?”

  “Then you can sleep, or we can talk. Whatever you want.”

  “There are actually people I need to contact, but my phone is still at the house. Or did you bring it?”

  “No, who do you need to call?” I can have Henry track any number she needs.

  “Wade will call me back, and he’ll worry if I don’t answer.” She returns her attention to me.

  I detest that she wants to confide in Wade, but I try my best not to show it. “Do you want to call him?”

  “Yes, but I don’t know his or any phone number by heart.” She pauses and swallows before adding, “Only your number is still imprinted in my brain.” Covering her face with her hands, her shoulders quiver as she cries.

  Because I can’t bear Fallon’s grief, I lift the covers and join her in bed, pulling her to me as I stroke her hair and press my lips to her temple. She’s allowed me to touch her like this constantly all evening.

  After she’s soothed again, I sit up and grab the food off the nightstand. “Move up so you can eat.” I motion for her to rest against the headboard.

  “I’m not hungry.”

  When I open the container, the smell of sweet and sour chicken wafts through the room. “Just a few bites. Come on.” I take the fork and taste it myself first since I am famished.

  The smell entices Fallon to settle against the pillows while she remains quiet, so I feed her some chicken, and she chews it quickly. I knew she must’ve been hungry too since she was in her father’s study since this afternoon. I give her a couple of bites of noodles as well. When I feed her the second bite, it almost falls out of her mouth, and a strand of noodle hangs down her chin, so I take it and place it in her mouth. She pleasantly shocks me when she sucks on my thumb softly, and I let a groan slip out, making her stop immediately. Then we finish the entire container in silence, and to my surprise, she falls asleep with her head on my shoulder before I can contact Henry to find Wade’s phone number.