by Tabatha Kiss
I smile as I take a step closer. “Hey.”
She turns her head up, offering me her lips. I kiss her slowly, extending the quiet kiss for as long as possible.
Dani wraps her arms around my waist. “This brings back memories,” she says.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Alone in a motel room with you…” She smiles. “Running for our lives.”
I kiss her forehead. “No more running,” I say. “Just… our lives.”
Sixty-Four
Sofia
I stand with my back to the wall and wait.
It’s been half a year since I’ve seen Gio face-to-face. The last time, it was full of fear and confusion, mere seconds away from being shoved out of an airplane by Fox Fitzpatrick. Truly, I prayed he’d died that day. I hoped his parachute was defective and he plummeted to his death. Then, I’d never have to worry about him or the Zappia way ever again.
Fate wouldn’t let me be that lucky.
He survived his fall. But the thing about survival is that it’s a skill. Gio survived once. I survived over five-thousand days under his family’s cruelty. Sooner or later, my skills would overwhelm his.
I knew that I’d be able to look into his face again and smile.
Gio stirs in his restraints, slowing coming to behind the wall. They left an opening for me. A few missing bricks in front of his face. Chains clink and echo inside as he tries to move. Finally, his eyes open wide. They shift around in his skull, growing angrier every second.
“Hello, Gio,” I say.
He stares at me through the dusty hole with gritted teeth. “Sofia... don’t you look liberated,” he quips.
I smile. “More than you could ever know.”
He coughs, his dry throat cracking. “What is this?”
I glance around the concrete room full of rusted old shelving. “Do you not recognize it?” I ask. “I suppose you didn’t really spend much time here. You usually skipped the family visits to America to stay back home and torture me.”
Gio grunts, trying once again to free himself from the locks and chains keeping him in place. “Let me out,” he says.
“We’re in your family’s old smuggling tunnels beneath Chicago,” I answer, ignoring the request. “They haven’t been used in quite some time and, after today, no one will set foot in them again.”
He rests his sweat-covered forehead against the brick. “Sofia, let me out.”
“We’ll seal them off completely,” I continue. “Erase them from existence—”
“Let me out.”
“Why?” I ask. “Is there somewhere else you’d rather be? Something else you’d rather be doing than being trapped behind a wall you can’t escape from? Strangely, for the first time in my life, I feel empathy for you, Gio.”
He glares at me. “What do you want?”
“I want nothing from you. Nothing I don’t already have.”
I take a few steps toward him, stopping to stand just outside the wall. I look up into his deep, hateful eyes as pure glee spurs in my belly.
“But I thought to see you one last time,” I say. “I wanted you to be the first to hear the good news.”
“What news?”
I smile wide. “I’m pregnant.”
His brow twitches as a giggle escapes from my throat.
“It’s Luka’s, obviously. Again,” I say. “He always regretted not being able to watch our son grow in me. Now, I’m giving him that chance to embrace what you took for granted.”
“Congratulations,” he spits.
“Oh, don’t be so cold, Gio,” I say. “You should know that it was always me. Not you. You see, while you were fucking the midwife, I was with a surgeon. He made me so you and your rotten seed would never create life. Not within me. But...” my smile grows, “something out there has blessed us. Against all odds, Luka and I can still conceive.”
He stares back, his cheeks turning a deep crimson. “You...” He inhales a seething breath.
“I endured a thousand nights of torture in your bed knowing that you’d never have a child of your own.”
“You filthy whore!”
“Call me what you want, Gio.” I take a step back. “While you rot in this place, I will live out my life, and should we meet in hell, I will accept your apology.”
“I’m going to kill you...” He struggles even more but never budges from his position. “I’m going to slit your throat open just like your idiot little sister, you fucking cunt.”
“I doubt that very much.”
I turn toward the brick pile in the corner, enduring the strong smell of wet cement.
His eyes widen as I grab a brick off the top. “Sofia…”
I ignore him as I lather cement on the opening in front of him and drop the brick on top.
“Stop.”
I watch the panic on his face as I grab another brick.
“Sofia! Wait.” He lurches behind the wall as I obscure even more of him. “Please, stop.”
“How many times did I say that to you, Gio?” I ask. “Did you ever stop?”
I push another brick into place.
“Sofia, I’ll do anything,” he begs. “I’ll give you anything you want.”
I stop and stare into his eyes through the missing piece of wall. “This is what I want, Gio,” I say.
He lets out a scream as I slide the final brick into place. He continues his struggle, shouting nonsense and whimpering like a child.
My heart thumps wildly in my chest as I turn away from him. I grip the nearby shelf and push it forward, forcing it to rest in front of the new wall. This old, rusted shelf will serve as his grave marker.
It’s more than he deserves.
I take a deep breath, filling my lungs to the top before pushing it back out. As I do, my pulse settles back to normal. I find a bit of peace, the kind I’ve never felt in my life.
A life without Zappias.
I ascend the stairs as Gio’s muffled screams fade off behind me. The old, bland stench quickly dissolves from my nose, replaced by the fresh scent of waves.
“Sofia.”
Luka extends his hand to me, his eyes full of more love and concern than Gio was ever capable of. I cling to him as he leads me down the beach toward Fox standing a several meters down. I fill my lungs with the clear, lake air. When I exhale, I breathe out every dark thought, every horrible, painful memory of Giovani Zappia still etched in the back of my mind.
I let it all go. The way he used to throw tantrums and shout that I was his. The way he used to hold me down and do as he pleased to me. That amused look in his eyes as Rosalie took her final breath in my arms.
I let it all go.
A Zappia no more.
We stop next to Fox and he turns, offering us a smile.
“I thought you’d be gone by now,” I say, very happy to see him.
“We’re heading back to LA today,” he says with a nod. “But I wanted to say goodbye before then.”
I grin. “I would be offended if you didn’t.”
I step forward and wrap my arms around him, giving him a great hug while my husband no doubt rolls his eyes.
“Please keep in touch,” I say as I step back. “I want to hear all about your wedding plans!”
Fox laughs. “If we even have one.”
“You will,” I say. “Trust in me.”
He nods, humoring me, but his smile fades as he looks at Luka. “And I wanted to say thank you. You know, for not shooting me after Marilyn told that story.”
“Rest easy, Fox,” Luka says. “You’re more of a Lutrova than he ever was.”
He extends his hand to Fox and I smile as they shake hands. My husband and my friend. Two soldiers finally parting ways after a deadly war.
I pop up onto my toes to plant one last kiss on Fox’s cheek. “Addio,” I say.
Fox smiles as he turns and walks off down the beach toward the parking lot.
Luka raises my hand to his lips and he kisses my knuckles. “You kno
w, for every kiss he gets, I should get two.”
I chuckle as I peck both of his cheeks. “Happy?”
“Remarkably.” He shows a tender smile as his bright, silver eyes study my face. “And you…” He runs a finger along my chin. “You look happy, too, lyubov’ moya,” he says over the crashing waves.
“I am happy,” I say.
He pulls me closer to whisper in my ear. “Where would you like to go now?”
“Home.” I sigh. “I want to see my baby.”
He nods. “And then?”
I bite my lip. “Then... I want you to take me somewhere far, far away.”
“Just the two of us?” he asks.
I chuckle. “Finally.”
“Then, let’s go home,” he says.
I push my toes into the uneven sand. “Kiss me first,” I whisper.
Luka does as I ask and offers me a deep, slow kiss. “Ya lyublyu tebya,” he says, his Russian tongue sending trembles down my spine.
“Ti amo,” I say back, his lips curling at the Italian words.
We kiss again and I wrap my arms around his body. My Luka. The light in my darkness.
Let’s go home.
Sixty-Five
Dante
I open my eyes after a full night’s sleep and smile for the first time in weeks.
I’m in my own bed in my childhood home. The spot beside me is empty but the scent of Lucy’s hair still lingers on her pillow among the undeniable, overpowering scents of bacon and fresh coffee wafting up from downstairs.
I throw my blanket to the side to keep my leg from getting caught as I slowly turn and ease it down to the floor. The bandage is still secure. Might wait another twelve hours before taking it off again.
I hop up, putting all of my strength into my left leg as I reach for the crutches by the bed.
The girls’ voices echo from downstairs. I pause at the landing, taking a moment to listen to Lilah’s cackling and Lucy’s impish giggle. I almost expect to hear Elijah chiming in as the voice of reason among the chaos.
Miss you, brother.
I slowly ease forward, taking each step one at a time on the way down. The crutches dig into my armpits but it’s easily enough to handle. I’ve been through far worse.
“What are you doing?”
I glance down at Lucy standing at the bottom of the stairs with her hands on her hips.
“I can do this, Luce,” I say.
“I told you to call out and I’d come help you down.”
I take another step and she tenses.
I laugh. “Lucy, I got it.”
She eases back, a look of worry on her face as I continue downward. When I reach the bottom, she lets out a sigh and scolds me with her eyes.
“Call for help next time,” she says, pointing a finger.
She walks off and I look at the front door, noticing the large duffel bag sitting by it.
“Hey, big brother,” Lilah greets me as I hobble toward the kitchen table. She stifles a yawn as she raises her coffee mug.
Lucy pulls out a chair. “Sit,” she tells me.
I don’t argue. Not with those eyes.
I lower down slowly on the chair and Lucy takes my crutches. She sets them off to the side and slides a second chair a little closer to me.
“Keep your leg elevated,” she says.
“I will,” I say.
“Do you need help?”
“Not right now.”
“A pillow? Because I can run upstairs.”
“No, I—” I sigh and look up into her attentive, yet amused, eyes. “You’re kind of loving this, aren’t you?”
“Maybe,” she answers.
I nod. “Some coffee, please.”
She smiles and spins around toward the coffee pot.
Lilah stares at me, shaking her head. “Enjoy your little slave while it lasts,” she jokes.
Lucy sets an empty mug down in front of me and shrugs. “He did the same for me,” she says, gazing at me as she fills the mug. “Breakfast in bed. Foot massages. Sponge baths.”
Lilah’s eyes roll. “Ugh.”
I turn my head up as Lucy leans down and kisses me. “You don’t have to,” I say.
“I want to,” she says.
“In that case, can I get some of that bacon?” I ask, pointing at the stove.
She rises and nods. “Coming right up.”
“Oh — and toast.”
Lilah stands up from her chair. “And on that note…” She sets her empty mug in the sink and turns back to me. “I have somewhere else I need to be.”
I gesture behind us at her bag sitting by the front door. “Are you sure?” I ask.
“Yeah,” she says without hesitation. “I’m sure.”
I take a deep breath, pausing to admire my baby sister. I probably won’t see her again for a little while but that’s pretty typical. Before, I had to worry about whatever dangerous mission she and Elijah were traversing the world for. Not anymore.
Now, I just have to worry about him.
But I have a good feeling.
“Don’t be a stranger, little sister,” I tell her.
Her shoulders bounce. “I always was a little stranger than you, big brother.”
“You know what I mean.”
She smiles. “Yeah, I do.”
Lucy opens her arms and Lilah gladly accepts the tight hug.
“Take care of my brother for me,” she says.
“I will.”
“But don’t let him be too much of a baby.”
Lucy laughs. “I won’t.”
I sigh, taking the abuse.
Lilah leans over the back of my chair and wraps one arm around me in a half-hug. “Bye, Dante,” she says.
“Bye.” I pat her arm. “And be careful.”
“That’s what I was waiting for,” she says with a laugh.
She pecks my cheek before sliding away. I turn to watch as she scoops her bag off the floor by the door. She pushes on a pair of sunglasses and blows a quick kiss on her way out the door.
Lucy sets a plate down in front of me, one completely stacked with toast, bacon, and scrambled eggs. “Want some juice, too?” she asks.
I eye the plate. “No, but I am missing something.”
“What?”
I grab her by the waist and pull her down into my lap.
“No—” she says. “Bad leg. You have bad leg.”
“I have bad right leg,” I say, settling her on my left. “Left leg is just fine.”
She chuckles as I bounce her up and down twice. I slide my hands up her body, gently coming to rest on her face, as I ease her closer for a kiss. She kisses me back, her arms slowly wrapping around my neck.
“Will you do it for me?” she asks, biting her lip.
I sigh. “Not right now…”
“Please. Come on.” She bats her eyelashes. “I made you breakfast.”
“Luce.”
“And coffee.” Her lips graze my cheek, traveling back to whisper in my ear. “And maybe, after breakfast, I’ll take you upstairs… and I’ll—”
“YA vas lyubil. Lyubov' yeshche, byt' mozhet,” I say, pulling her against me.
Lucy gasps. “Oh, yes.”
I bite her neck, feeling her tremble. “V dushe moyey ugasla ne sovsem…”
“Uh-huh.” She trembles playfully. “That’s gonna do it for me.”
I inch a hand up her shirt and she parts her lips. We kiss hard and fast, making up for every lost moment we were away from each other. I grip the elastic of her pajama pants, wanting so badly to rip them off her body. Her own hand slides downward and rests on my inner thigh, gently tempting my cock to wake up.
“More,” she moans.
I cup her rear and push her up to sit on the table as she slides my plate to the other side. I stand, biting through the pain before settling onto my good leg and crushing my lips on hers.
“No pust’ ona vas—”
Lucy wraps her legs around me.
�
�—bol’she ne trevozhit—”
“Seriously, you guys?”
We flinch toward the front door.
Lilah stands in the doorway. “I was gone for thirty seconds.”
I look at Lucy, her cheeks burning red. “Well, we…”
Lilah snatches her bike helmet off the hook by the door. “Forgot my helmet,” she says. “Safety first. I’m talking at you two.”
She backs up and closes the door behind her.
Sixty-Six
Archer
The airport bustles around me as I gaze out the window one last time at Chicago.
I can only assume our mission was a success. The news channels have been running with the story all morning, every last one of them with copious opinions about what happened to the mythical Boss of Snake Eyes.
The rumors were true. It was a woman. No. That’s not right. The real ones running the show are the corporations and the—
Blah blah, as they say. It doesn’t matter anymore. Let them talk.
I take a step back from the window as a family hops off the nearest bench to board their flight. I still have some time to kill and I’d rather not do it standing.
I sit down and glance around the unruly airport again. Dozens of people shuffling about, just trying to get home and see their loved ones again.
I can relate.
But there’s no one waiting for me where I’m going.
“Hey, you.”
I smile before glancing over my shoulder to spot the tuft of fiery red hair standing over me.
“Hey,” I say.
Lilah lowers onto the bench beside me. “How ya doing?” she asks.
I laugh. “It’s been a rough few days, sad to say. And you?”
She shrugs. “It all worked out in the end. Sparky says hi, by the way.”
“I’m happy to hear he made it out all right.”
“It’s a long story but… we all did.”
I exhale with relief. “Good.”
She chews on her lip. “So, you’re an illegal.”
“Yes,” I say with a light chuckle.
“I didn’t know that.”
“I didn’t think it was important to mention.”
“I don’t know...” she says, tilting her head. “I think the start of a relationship is the preferred time to divulge one’s legal status.”
