Barresi: Emily Trilogy: A New Orleans Mafia Romance

by Lux Miller

  I lean over him and kiss his lips lightly to distract him as I lift his shirt up. I sit back on my heels and suck in a sharp breath as I realize that his hand, shirt, the bed and now my hand are covered with a thick, viscous substance. It’s impossible to tell what color it is in the darkness, but there’s no doubt in my mind. It’s blood. Luca’s hurt… and he’s hurt badly.

  He hisses as I push his hand away. Both of my hands fly to my face, despite the fact that both are now smeared with blood. There’s an angry, jagged cut that zigzags across his abdomen, starting underneath his armpit right below where his rib cage ends. It slices across his skin, ending just above his belly button.

  Dread bubbles up in my throat as his eyes meet mine. I drop my hands from my mouth just slightly and scream at the top of my lungs. Luca groans as he reaches up to grab my hands, “Emily, shhh… it’s okay, it’s just… a surface scratch…”

  I know that my eyes are wild with fear as I stare at him in disbelief. He winces and groans as he abandons the idea of sitting up. I unbutton his shirt and nudge it down off his shoulders. Balling it up, I press it against the wound with trembling hands as the overhead light flickers on.

  Standing in the doorway are Mike and Dante. Dante looks irritated and half-asleep, and Mike looks worried. The expression on his face speaks volumes of his opinion of the matter. Dante’s tired voice cuts through the silence that follows my scream. “What the fu—?”

  I glance over my shoulder at both of them and let a wad of garbled words fly out of my mouth. I must look a fright because Dante is now wide-awake. “Emily… you’re… oh my God, what happened?”

  I nod at Luca with my head, “It’s his. It’s all his… he’s hurt…” I pull Luca’s shirt away from the wound and throw it to the floor, where it lands beside his discarded cell phone. The formerly white shirt is now tie-dyed crimson. I swipe the back of my hand across my face and my stomach flip-flops with the realization that Luca’s blood is all over me.

  Dante reaches my side in record time. He pushes my hands away from the cut in Luca’s side and his eyes narrow at his brother. “Luca… this isn’t an owwie that mommy can bandage up and fix with a kiss. What the fuck happened?”

  Luca groans as Dante inspects the cut. Dante glances over his shoulder at Mike and starts to bark orders. “Get something to sterilize it with. If he’s not going to the doctor, then we’re going to have to do this the hard way. We can’t leave it like it is. Find me a needle and thread… some gauze… and something for him to bite down on.”

  I nod and start to scramble out of the bed to help Mike find the supplies, but Dante’s strong hand grips my wrist, forcing me to stay in place. “You stay here. Keep him calm. Can you sew?”

  I blink at Dante in surprise. “I, uh… I can hem a pair of pants, kinda… why?”

  Dante stands up and motions to Luca, who is now writhing in pain on the bed. I follow to where his finger is pointing and my eyes widen. Shaking my head quickly, I try to protest, but the only thing that comes out of my mouth is nonsense.

  Moments later, Mike returns with an armful of supplies and dumps them onto the bed. A bottle of peroxide, a bottle of vodka, several packages of gauze, and a small sewing kit tumble onto the bed beside me. I cast my eyes up to Mike and he must see the fear on my face.

  He rubs a hand down my back and coos softly, “He needs us to stay calm. He’s likely in or close to being in shock. It’s bad, but it doesn’t look too deep. You said you wanted this… that you wanted him, despite his lifestyle. This is the reality of his lifestyle.”

  I nod and close my eyes, trying to steady my breath. “Give me his phone.” Mike nods and grabs the phone off the floor, dropping it into my hands. I thrust it at Luca. “Unlock it.”

  He opens his mouth to say something, but I cut him off, “Unlock the motherfucking phone or I will call 911 on it, do you understand me?”

  Luca grunts and his fingers fly over the screen. Then he hands it back to me with a grunt. Relieved to see the home screen, I dive into his contacts and call Royce as fast as my fingers can select him from the list. It rings several times, and I’ve got the bottle of Vodka open before he answers.

  His voice is sleepy on the other end, “Luca… man, if you have a fashion emergency at five in the morning, I better be getting paid double…”

  I cut him off before he can get another word in, “It’s not Luca. It’s Emily. I need your help. I’ll pay your price, just name it. I need you to help guide me through repairing a massive cut.”

  Royce’s voice brightens as he responds, “Oh honey, did that beast rip your dress? Why didn’t you just say so… I assume you have a needle and thread available?”

  I nod as I fling open the sewing kit and pull out what I hope will work in a pinch. “Yeah, something like that.” I motion to a balled up pair of socks on the floor and then motion to Luca. Luca’s eyes widen and he shakes his head no, but I nod back at him.

  Mike hands me the socks and I tip the bottle of vodka into Luca’s mouth. He sputters at first, then gulps down several large sips before I snatch it away, cap it up and toss it on the floor. Next, I grab the bottle of peroxide, shove the balled up socks into Luca’s mouth and upturn the bottle over his cut. It fizzes like a rabid dog foaming at the mouth and Luca balls both of his fists up at his sides. I can’t hear what he’s attempting to say thanks to the socks, but if I was a betting woman, it isn’t nice.

  “Oka, honey. Once you have the needle threaded, you want to tie off the end of the thread so it doesn’t slip through the fabric. Then I’m gonna need you to push the torn ends together and puncture through where the fabric is thickest. That way it holds better.”

  I take a deep breath and my eyes meet Luca’s as I climb onto his legs, my knees pressed into the sides of his thighs. For the first time ever, he looks rattled and dare I say it…scared. I bite down on my bottom lip and, with Mike’s help, pinch the ragged edges of the cut together above his navel. My hands are shaking as I punch the needle through his skin.

  He bucks underneath me, a muffled scream dying in the socks.

  Royce’s voice is steady as he directs me on the other end, “Now do it quickly. The less time you spend weaving that needle in and out of the dress, the better it’ll look when you’re done.”

  I nod, realizing that Royce would have a level three meltdown if he knew what he was really directing me to do. I weave the needle back and forth through the edges of the cut, creating a crisscross stitch style that looks like it belongs on a pair of bell-bottomed pants and not a human body. I cringe as I finish and tie off the thread as Royce instructs me to do. I thank him and hang up, dropping the phone onto the bed beside me.

  I wipe the back of my hand across my forehead and instantly I feel exhausted. I can’t imagine what Luca must feel like right now. That had to have hurt like hell. Yet aside from his attempts to buck me off and his muffled shouts against the socks stuffed into his mouth, he took it fairly well. Which leads me to believe this isn’t the first time he’s refused medical care and been forced to act like we’re somewhere on the frontier. And I don’t know what terrifies me more… how bad this was or that nobody seemed to be too ruffled by it. A little panicked, yeah… but now that the crisis seems to be avoided, everyone is going on like it’s no big deal.

  Mike sighs at the mess everywhere and throws his hands up in the air, “It isn’t worth getting upset over the mess tonight. You two get some sleep. He’s going to be in some pain tomorrow…”

  Luca groans as he shifts in the bed beside me. He cracks one eye open at Mike and grunts. Mike shrugs and points out, “I know you have your secrets Lucario, but it’s not wise to keep a second attack on one of his sons from your father. Somebody has declared war and your father will not be pleased to be the last to know.”

  Luca waves Mike off. Mike chuckles and holds both hands up in the air. “Stubborn as ever, I see. Perhaps the pain you feel when you wake up will have you singing a different tune. You’re like a son to me, boy�
� and no man should have to see someone he cares for in the state you were in when you stumbled into this house.”

  Luca grunts in response as he closes his eyes beside me. I shift around on the bed with the intention of getting up to clean up and head to my own room, but Luca’s strong arm slides around my waist. He winces in pain as my movement pulls against him, but his voice is even as he states, “Stay, Emily… please…”

  I wrinkle my nose as I look down at myself. There’s blood everywhere, but his voice is insistent, “I need you to stay.”

  I chuckle softly, trying to lighten the mood. “I’m sorry Luca, but there’s no way we can continue what we started earlier with you in this state. I’m afraid it’s going to be days at best before you can maul me again.”

  He cracks a smile, but continues to tug on my body until I lay down beside him with a sigh. “Happy?”

  He nods and yawns, his muscles tightening as I rest my hand on his belly, just below my hack job of a repair to his skin. He nuzzles his face into my hair and inhales deeply followed by an equally deep exhale. He does this several times in the dead silence of the room before his breathing evens out. I convince myself that the harried events of the last half hour have passed and that I should get some more sleep.

  Just as I’m drifting into a dreamless sleep, I hear Luca’s voice murmur so softly that I’m not sure if he intended for me to hear it or not. The words that come out of his mouth, despite being mumbled in Italian, cause my heart to skip a beat as the world stands still. “Mmm… Ti amo, Emily…”

  FIVE

  It’s half past two in the afternoon before Luca stirs from a fitful sleep I’ve been awake for hours, but then I never really managed to get back to a sound sleep after Luca got back home. Every time I’d start to drift off, he’d groan in his sleep or his breath would hitch, and it’d send my heart to racing out of worry for him.

  I didn’t know what to expect. Was he going to die? Mike reassured me that Luca was a tough man more than once as he kept a bedside vigil that added to the laundry list of reasons it was impossible for me to sleep. The worst was his insistence that this wasn’t even the worst injury he’d seen him suffer through.

  Thankfully, Mike spared me the gory details of the prior incidents he alluded to, but my mind still ran laps with worry about what exactly I’ve gotten myself into. I knew Luca was dangerous. I knew some consider him a menace to society while others regard him as a vigilante savior. I knew falling for a man like him would test my limits, yet I fell anyway.

  If Luca’s delirious mumblings this morning were any indication, I’m not the only one harboring scary feelings right now, but our relationship is still so new. Even if we count all the fake dates, we’re barely four months into this thing, and we didn’t start off on the best foot. Hell, if my daddy was still alive, he’d likely read me the riot act and claim I was suffering from Stockholm Syndrome to be able to have feelings for a man who abducted me against my will under the threat of death.

  I shudder as I realize that when I put it like that, it really does sound bad. I must be an idiot. An idiot that, no matter how terrible of an idea it is, is falling in love with this cold, cruel, and calculating man.

  Nobody else would understand my predicament because they don’t see the side of him I see. They don’t see the humanity that he hides from the world. Even I only see glimpses of it from time to time. But those glimpses are the moments that take my breath away and send me tumbling down a rabbit hole of feelings I can’t explain to anyone, including myself.

  A guttural groan catches my attention, and I glance down at Luca. He’s sweaty and I know it’s not hot in here. I sit up beside him and reach my hand down to his forehead, bracing myself for what I may encounter. My stomach plummets as I jerk my hand away from his damp skin. He’s burning up, and I know without a doubt that I have to tell Mike.

  I look up to see him watching Luca and I in complete silence. His face looks haggard, but his eyes are clouded with warring emotions. I sigh quietly. “Mike, we have to call someone… he’s burning up.”

  Mike nods slightly, but holds both of his hands up. “He has decreed no doctors, Emily. Despite his situation, it was an order. One I would be wise to follow… not all of us can get away with disobeying our superiors.”

  I grumble and hold my hand out to Mike. “Mike… he’s sick. Something is wrong. He needs a doctor, not this whack-a-doodle repair service we’ve managed to pull together. What if he gets worse?”

  Mike looks torn, and it breaks my heart to see such a giant of a man reduced to the misty eyes that plead with me to stop arguing. “An order is an order.”

  “Then give me your phone. I’ll call someone.”

  Mike shakes his head and stands up out of the chair he hasn’t left since Luca fell asleep. He stumbles backwards away from my outstretched hand, skating a hand through his graying hair. “I can’t… please, find another way.”

  His plea is the only confirmation I need. He doesn’t want to see Luca suffer either, but he’s loyal to Luca to a fault. He won’t disobey a direct order, even if it means putting Luca’s life at risk. But he wants me to find a way. The desperate look on his face says that much.

  I grunt and shove the covers off myself and Luca, then gasp at the amount of crusted blood that covers my clothes and the bed. I press my hand gently against Luca’s wound. It looks surprisingly good considering the circumstances. It’s hot to the touch though, so I know there’s a good chance an infection is trying to take hold. And an infection is public enemy number one right now.

  I crawl over Luca, who moans with the shifting on the bed. Glancing back over my shoulder at him, I mutter, “I’m sorry, Luca. Hopefully you’ll forgive me for this…”

  Slipping out of the room before Luca can come to full consciousness, I hurry across the hall and pound my fist against Dante’s door. I do this until the door finally pops open, a disgruntled and disheveled Dante standing in its place.

  He eyes me warily and motions to the state of my appearance. “You might want to consider a shower, Emily. I hear the blood-covered look is soooo last year…”

  I can’t help but chuckle, despite the seriousness of the situation. I nod quickly and reply, “Yeah, I’ll get to it eventually.” I sigh as my expression turns serious.

  Dante watches my face change and his does too, his easy smile shifting into a frown. “Shit, Em… what’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen something scarier than the whole shit-show showdown we had at five this morning.”

  I nod solemnly, and Dante growls under his breath as he disappears back into his room momentarily. He reappears in front of me with his phone pressed to his ear. He drops the phone away from his mouth for a moment and asks, “How bad is it?”

  Shrugging slightly, I mouth an answer that never materializes. Dante rests a hand on my shoulder and hunches down so that he’s looking me square in the face. Which is a feat since he’s over a foot taller than me. “Is he breathing?”

  I exhale suddenly and nod. “Yeah, yes… he’s asleep, somewhat… but he’s burning up. It doesn’t look very good this morning. It’s still closed, but it looks angry…”

  Dante nods and relays what I’ve told him through the phone. He drops it down off his shoulder and ends the call. “Not nearly as angry as Luca is going to be when Franco shows up.”

  Narrowing my eyes at Dante, I implore, “Who’s Franco?”

  Shrugging, Dante steps back into his room again and tugs on a t-shirt. In my stupor, I hadn’t even noticed that he’d answered the door in nothing but boxers. He smirks at me as he pulls on a pair of joggers and puts both hands on his hips. “He’s the family doctor we keep on-call for when shit goes sideways and someone gets hurt.”

  My mouth drops open as I realize that this was never mentioned as an option when Luca stumbled into the house bleeding out. I motion dumbly at Dante. “You didn’t think it pertinent to mention this as an option this morning? Instead of making me sew him closed on the guidance of our flambo
yant tailor who thought I was repairing my dress?!?”

  Dante chuckles slightly. “Can’t wait to see Royce’s reaction when he finds out what really happened.”

  I growl and stamp my foot at him as I huff out a breath that sends my hair fluttering out of my face. Dante shrugs. “Because it wasn’t an option this morning.”

  I smack Dante’s good shoulder and scowl at him. “And it suddenly is now? What changed?”

  Dante shrugs. “Luca can’t say no. Trust me, he’s going to be pissed as fuck when he finds out we called Franco. The terrified look on your face told me it was necessary. You don’t seem to get rattled by much, and you look downright worried right now. But Luca’s going to go on a tirade of tyranny when all is said and done.”

  I shake my head at Dante. “What’s with all the secrecy? If Franco is on your payroll, isn’t he discreet? I can’t imagine Matteo Barresi would keep anybody on his payroll who couldn’t keep their mouth shut…”