by Ella James
“He wanted my contacts, but I wouldn’t—because they didn’t exist. For almost a year, he kept asking me who they were, who I would turn around and sell these ‘assets’ to. He didn’t really want to sell to me, and at the start of the idea, I didn’t have the money anyway. But I was working on that. So finally he agreed he would sell exclusively to me. Said it would cut down on the hassle of dealing with the other buyers, who were almost always individuals; some of them really were wealthy businessmen thinking this is just like a mail-order bride.
“He agreed he’d sell them all to me, and Roberto told me he knew. He knew what I was planning, and he gave it to me. Like a gift, because he knows how I am.” He rubs the back of his neck, looking awkward for a moment. “Anyway.” He blows his breath out. “He let me…have this.”
I’m so floored, I feel dizzy. “How many people have you saved?”
“Don’t be looking at it that way, rosa. Not unless you want to know how many truckloads of H, or how much Fent or Oxy passed through me to pay for all of them. Every time we slice those dirty ropes off of their wrists and ankles, it’s a price tag of somewhere between fifteen and fifty thousand dollars. And we do it every month. We do it every month, for the last five and a half years, except this last one, which I fucking hate. But Aren and I went bad.
“He got in trouble with the FBI, I guess, and tried to sell me out to get his ass off the hook. All the while, trying to convince me he thought I was turning on him, so when the FBI came up with footage of me—gotten from his traitor ass—I would think they had been on us the whole time. And that he was also fucked. Anyway”—I watch as Luca rubs his temples—“that backfired. Turns out the FBI’s not so eager to move on someone playing hero. Not even if it’s a well-known bad guy like myself.”
“You’re not a bad guy,” I whisper.
He shakes his head. I step closer, wrap my arms around his waist. He’s breathing deeply, hugging me close. There are roses between us, their thorns prickling through my shirt. But I can’t help hugging him.
“These smell really good,” I whisper, trying not to cry more.
He sets them on a table and wraps me in his arms, holding so tightly it almost hurts.
“Sorry,” he says, low and husky. His hand comes over my belly.
“I didn’t really think”—I shake my head slowly—“but it was still upsetting.”
“I’m so fucking sorry. I should have told you. I don’t know why I didn’t.”
“Knowing you, you probably didn’t want to get me caught up in it. Or you didn’t want to explain. You seem all too content to let me think whatever of you, without making any justifications or apologies.”
His hand cups my head against his chest. “That’s not true.” I feel his mouth move over my hair. “I want to make every apology, and then I want to make a few more. And after all that, I want to make some promises.”
32
Luca
I don’t know how I’m going to do it, but I have to find a way. I have to make sure she knows that I knew before I found out she was pregnant. I knew that weekend back in February, when I was lying on the floor, half frozen, and her hands were on my face. I would have never brought myself into her life, but once I heard her voice and felt her warmth and saw her smile up close, I didn’t see how I could stay away forever.
The real surprise was that she wanted me, too. The real surprise is that she’s sitting in my lap in this armchair in Dani’s beige and tan and pale pink library—which features books that only have pale spines—and she’s stroking my hair and kissing my throat, and she’s got my hand folded over our baby.
“What will Jace say about this?” I ask, closing my eyes.
“Oh, Jacey has plenty to say. He knows all about us.”
I peer down at her. “He does?”
“He’s my best friend. Well, along with Ree and Dani. We’re a quad. Or like, I don’t know, we’re some shape that has me at the center and the three of them around me, being awesome.”
“And what does he think?”
Elise bites her lip, looking thoughtful. “He was willing to shift status to bi for me—for us—in case we needed him to say our baby was his.”
I don’t know why, but that, of all damn things, makes me feel emotional. “Was he really?”
She smiles gently. “Yes, and he still will. It could maybe help, him, too—help him inherit his grandfather’s company.”
“Didn’t he get the boot already?”
“Yes, but that’s because his grandfather is a bigot. Won’t pass anything down the line unless he thinks that Jace will have an heir that comes from having sex with a woman.”
“That’s pretty fucking stupid.”
She nods.
“Do you want us to say that?” My pulse quickens as she shakes her head, but then she frowns. “Say what?”
“Do you want to tell people the baby’s his?”
“I don’t.” Her eyes glimmer. “Because I want to be with you.”
I close my eyes, feeling relieved. “We just have to figure out a way. I can talk to Alesso, Roberto. Let me see what I can work out. I know that won’t help your ability to…be seen with me.” My throat goes dry on that part. “But at least you’ll never have to get a nasty surprise at work again.”
“Would you really leave…for me?” she chokes.
“Of course. If I can figure out a way. Even if I can’t…” I shake my head. “I’ll find a way. I didn’t know if you would want to.”
“Yes.”
“Because of the baby?”
“No, Luca. Because of you. I want to be with you. I love my work, but you make life feel…better. Richer. You’re what makes me happy. All we need is to move away from here. But I don’t want to disappoint my voters. Or Jace. Not that Jace would ever let me do anything less than what we want to do.”
I hug her to me, feeling like shit that we’re in this situation. “I need a disguise, and maybe a name change.”
She kisses my chest. “I love you the way you are.”
“I still don’t feel like I deserve it.”
“I love you and just you, Luca. Not some other version of you. Not the you who teaches ethics at a college. This you. I love the way you hold me and the way you smell, the way you laugh, the way you wiggle your eyebrows and make your funny little faces. I love the way you watch my back and help me even when you’re getting nothing from it, no acknowledgment from me. I love how you never push me, and you never ask for anything back. You just love me, and it’s somehow enough.
“Even when there’s no way forward—when it seems like there’s not one—you stick by me. You stick by your brother and your friends. Even Roberto…and your father,” she whispers. “What you told me happened sounds horrible. But I have never felt like it was your fault. I think you live with trauma every day, and you still fight to keep your head above water. Even when I’m not there with you, and I want to be. I’m so sad that I can’t be, because it’s all I want.”
I hug her closer, hoping she won’t notice me losing my shit. But I guess she feels me breathe or feels a teardrop in her hair, because she pulls my face down to her shoulder and she wraps herself around me, too. She’s stroking my shoulders and my nape, my back and then my cheek.
“Don’t be worried, darling. We just have to find a way. Maybe after my term’s over, we can move to Timbuktu.”
“That’s a real place. Did you know?” I force a smile for her; she’s smiling back with wet eyes.
“It’s somewhere desert-like in west-ish Africa, right? And there’s a mosque or something?”
“It’s in Mali.”
“Maybe we should get away. But not quite that far. I’ll miss my friends. Maybe…Jersey. Do they know you down there?” she asks.
“Not how they do here. The Bellinis are in charge in Jersey.”
“You’re the don of nothing down there.”
I nod, resting my chin on the top of her head.
“Does it make you
feel weird, that term?”
“I’m not really the don. Roberto is…if we’re going to be technical, based on…ceremonial things. I’m just the fill-in.”
“Do you want to be the fill-in?” She kisses my jaw.
“I’ve done it.”
“You didn’t get a lot of choices.”
“I was fine. I’m fine. Better than fine,” I whisper into her sweet-smelling hair. “I told Max where I think Aren gets…these victims. I’ve told him before, but the other day, I told him a lot more. He seemed like he’d be interested, or like some of his blue bros would be.”
“You’re sad that you can’t help this month?”
“Yeah. I even thought of taking them—like intercepting them on their way to Aren. But I didn’t want a gunfight.”
“If something happened to him, who would be next up…for the Armenians?” she asks.
“He’s got a younger guy below him, but that guy’s quiet and reserved. It wouldn’t be the same group without Aren.” I lean my head against the back of the chair, closing my eyes so I can appreciate how Elise feels on top of me.
If I could sit here with my arms around her for forever, I’d do it. To hell with eating, showering, sunlight, or any of that other shit.
Her fingers stroke through my hair. “How are you?” She kisses my eyelids. “Besides today, when you couldn’t stalk me anymore and had to call my father?”
I peek an eyelid open, find her smirking. “I’m fine.”
“I don’t want those faux answers. Give me real ones.” She frames my face with her hands. “Talk to me, my Luca. Tell me everything inside your head.”
I kiss her lips, and she pries me off, laughing. “There are stereotypes, Galante, and you’re playing right into them.”
I shut my eyes again. “It’s not my fault you’re tempting. And you smell like heaven.”
She tucks her cheek against my chest and whispers, “Tell me what’s been going on. Outside those little dark hearts we send on text.”
I shrug. “Just the same ole.”
“No.” She laughs. “I’m not asking what you’ve been doing. I want to know how you are.” Her finger traces a heart over my shirt. “How do you feel? What do you want? And don’t you try to tell me tired and a cheeseburger. I miss you, and so I want to know how you are. I don’t have anything to go on, since I can’t live with you yet.”
Her voice wobbles on that, and I squeeze her closer.
Fuck. “You want to live with me?”
“I always have.”
“We were kids then.”
“And we’re not now.” Her fingers play at my nape, and my throat aches thinking of all the things she doesn’t understand about me. And maybe wouldn’t want to.
In the elevator all those years ago, she asked me if I still had the problems I had back in high school. Instead of getting better, all that shit has…I don’t know. It’s not worse, but it’s different. “I don’t know if you could sleep with me,” I mange.
She waits a moment before murmuring, “How come? Think you’ll keep me up?”
I nod. Try to swallow.
“I don’t care about that.”
I clench my jaw.
“What are you thinking?” she whispers.
Being with me will only bring you down. That’s how I’ve always felt. But I don’t want to bring that feeling up between us again. I don’t want to bring her down by saying I’ll bring her down. I squeeze my eyes shut, shaking my head.
“Tell me, Luca. Tell me what makes you unhappy or afraid when you think of us together. If you don’t tell me with words, you’re going to tell me in some other way. And it might not be pleasant.”
Well, that’s insightful. Fuck.
She grins. “Trust me, I’ve done therapy for years.”
“It helped?”
“Like magic. You should try it.”
“I have—only a little, though. I didn’t want to put them in a weird position.”
“Because of your work?”
I nod.
I can feel her eyes on me. I can feel her asking me for…I don’t even know what. I glance down at her, and out at the bookshelves in front of our chair. Then I close my eyes. A few seconds tick past. She shifts in my lap, curling closer to me…like a nudge without touch. And I just fucking do it.
“Sometimes it’s okay,” I manage. “Like…any normal person. But then something will shift. I’ll start…feeling weird again. Like being set off.” I open my eyes again, looking again at the shelf. “And it ends up that I can’t sleep. I don’t know why. That’s when I need to find someone who can help me.”
A moment passes. I can’t bring myself to look down at her.
“Is that the only thing?” she murmurs. “Or are there other things that give you trouble?”
“It doesn’t really matter.” I shut my eyes.
“Why does it not? Are you saying we won’t ever live together? You just said you want to be with me. So tell me who you are.” Her fingers trace my jaw. “I don’t care if you’re a werewolf and you never sleep. If you’ll cuddle me sometimes while I do, that works. If you don’t want me in your bed, we can get different beds. We could even have different rooms.”
“I want you in my room,” I manage.
“You’re afraid.”
I shut my eyes.
“Let me ask you something,” she says softly. “If you don’t take your women to the apartment, and they haven’t been in the tub, does that mean you haven’t dated very much?”
I can’t talk about this shit. I suck a breath in.
“Who cares? Tell me. I’ll tell you all my things. You’re my person. I hope I’m your person. Just…go for it, cuore.”
I rub my temples. “Yes, Elise. That’s what it means. It means that after you, I didn’t want to. And after that, it didn’t seem right. How could I make up for what I did with you, if not by…abstaining? And after that, what was the point? I would never bring a woman into this shit. When I started really feeling like I…” I shake my head. “That was about the time you were running for D.A. So I got caught up in that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I couldn’t think about anyone except you.” I let a long breath out, then force myself to look down at her. “That’s the story. No one in my tub, or in my house. My life’s not like the movies. There’s no prostitutes and every evening poker games and going door to door to bust knees if people don’t pay up. We don’t even run like that, like one big loan shark operation. I hate that shit.”
She’s nodding; even though I can tell she’s confused, she wants more. My eyes ache from the inside.
“I understand why you would,” she says softly. “Hate that.”
One tear slips. And then another one. It’s like the cabin, take two. Her fingers wipe the salty shit away, and then I’m hugging her again, like holding onto a damn life boat.
“All of this is going to be okay. We’ll find our way,” she whispers.
“I’m sorry that I…put us here.”
“You’re not going to be sorry. Be happy we’re here. We’re here because of my job almost more than yours. But if it weren’t for my job, you wouldn’t have noticed me again. You just said that, right? So how can we feel all bad?”
“That’s not true. I never forgot you.”
We kiss until I’m hard, and she looks tired and puffy-eyed. “You want to go to my place?” I hug her close.
She nods. “Maybe I can sleep over.”
“Maybe.” My voice sounds hoarse, so I swallow. She kisses my wrist.
“What was that for?” I smile down at her.
“Just because you’re looking like a snack in that shirt.”
I snort. Old-ass, long-sleeved T-shirt. I help her up and get my jacket off the back of the chair. Then we walk into the living room, where Dani’s doing something on her phone. She looks up, wide-eyed, and grins brightly when she sees our clasped hands.
“My little lovebirds, all made up.”
“They’re koalas! That’s my favorite animal.”
“Since she was ten.” Elise smiles, and the two of them exchange a funny look—this kind of girl look, like they’re trading information.
“You two kids take care,” Dani tells us, “and take care of each other. And take care of lil nuggy.”
“What’s a nuggy?”
“Your angst-spawn. The little nugget.” She pets Elise’s belly. “I’m just kidding. That’s my niece or nephew in there.”
I participate in the small talk as Elise’s best friend walks us out. Then we’re in the quiet hall. I can’t help kissing her, tucking her silly scarf under her chin.
“Good thing we’re going into cooler months, where all these clothes will make more sense,” she murmurs. “Hope we get things worked out by summer.”
“We’ll come up with something.”
“Maybe we can go on a long vacation.”
“Can you do that if you’re pregnant?”
“I can travel.”
“Can you? That far into it?”
“I don’t know,” she murmurs. “Actually…maybe not. Maybe it depends on what the doctor says.”
We’re on the elevator, and we’re wrapped up in each other.
“I like you.” She’s grinning up at me.
“I love you,” I whisper. Then the doors open, and we have to move apart.
33
Elise
We walk through the lobby like we walk through every lobby lately—staying close but not touching. I can’t take my eyes off Luca. Handsome Luca, with his small smiles and his warm hands always reaching for mine. Luca, my dark prince and hero in one, flawed but always good at the core. And he’s mine. I’m not letting him go.
