Catching Fire (The Fire Duet Book 2)

by Billie Lustig

  “What’s this?” His intense eyes never leave mine, a look of displeasure shooting my way.

  “What you wanted.”

  “I doubt that,” he mumbles before he averts his gaze and empties the contents of the bag on his lap, picking up one of the bracelets. He glances at me with a big frown on his face before he examines each piece of jewelry.

  “Are these The Russian’s jewels from the Carrillos that everyone is looking for?”

  “Ah, you see, that’s the mistake everyone seems to make.” I drape my arm over the back of the couch, pulling one foot under my body while resting my head in my hand.

  Feeling right at home.

  “What mistake is that?”

  My tongue presses against my teeth with an arrogant smirk.

  I know I should adjust my attitude since I actually need him to help me. But even though I think he’s a dick, he is also a dick I’ve known for a long time. The only reason he wants me to marry him is because he loves my attitude. He wants me to defy him.

  Like the blond vision of a man who still occupies my mind far more than I want him to.

  You see, growing up a Reyes and being surrounded by men who live outside the law for my entire life, made me realize one thing.

  They want to be challenged.

  They have a new piece of ass on their arm every three months because they get bored with girls who are only there to please them. Girls who are too scared to open their mouths, agreeing with everything they say. They will never admit it, but they want someone who drives them nuts because it keeps them on edge. Keeps them sharp and focused. Psychopaths like my brother being the exception.

  In that case, a whole different set of rules apply.

  Ronnie, though? He is a powerhouse. Slowly taking over the family business from his father, showing the entire city he is not to be messed with, but he is not the kind of man who gets off on a woman’s fear.

  The only reason he has always been interested in little old me is because I don’t fear him.

  The corner of my mouth rises in a cocky grin before I bite my lower lip.

  “The mistake of thinking they were the Carrillos’ in the first place.”

  His brows lift in surprise.

  “They are mine. Always have been. My great-great grandmother passed them on to her daughter, and she passed them on to her daughter. You know how that works. When my mother died, I looked everywhere for them, but I couldn’t find them.”

  “The Carrillos had them?” Kenzo asks, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

  “Nope,” I reply, popping my P. “My douchebag dad did. Kane and Liam just put them in the negotiating as interest.”

  “Kane and Liam?” The tone in Ronnie’s voice is mocking, and I curse myself for showing the familiarity I feel for the Carrillos.

  “You’re on a first name basis with them now? Didn’t they kidnap you and keep you hostage on a boat?” He plays with the bracelet between his fingers, slowly narrowing his eyes on me.

  “I thought you said you couldn’t find me?”

  He exhales loudly before he holds my gaze with a scowl. I want to get off his shit list, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to show him all my cards.

  We stare at each other for about half a minute, both of us stubborn enough to not back down until Kenzo finally breaks the tension.

  “Yeah, yeah, you both have balls, we get it.” He downs his drink like it’s nothing, then he reaches out his hand.

  “Can I see?”

  Ronnie gives him the bracelet before his eyes lock with mine again.

  “I didn’t really expect you to pay, amoré.”

  “You shouldn’t have expected anything else, Ronnie.” I sigh.

  “You are a week late, though,” he says, rubbing the scruff on his chin. “You know I have a soft spot for you.”

  “Yeah, and a hard one, too.” Kenzo shoots me a wink, and I roll my eyes at him.

  “But I can’t favor you. It would send the wrong message.”

  “Of course you can’t,” I chuckle, not even slightly surprised.

  “It’s fifteen mill now.” His eyes turn darker the moment the words roll off his tongue, feeling extremely pleased with himself.

  Arrogant son of a bitch.

  “Uh, Ronnie? These Russians are worth twenty million as a set,” Kenzo says before I can open my mouth. Ronnie moves his head towards Kenzo before he snaps it back to me, annoyance dripping off his face.

  I lift up my right hand, showing off the ring on my finger.

  “Eighteen. I’m keeping this one.”

  It doesn’t look like much, and if you are not a connoisseur, you wouldn’t have a clue that the thing is worth two million American dollars. The white gold band is set with eight small diamonds with a small pink diamond in the center. It’s not the most outstanding piece out of the set, in fact it’s the simplest.

  But it’s mine.

  My mother promised me this one when I was younger, and now that I have it, I’ll be dead before anyone gets the chance to slip it off my finger.

  “Eighteen?” Ronnie cocks his head, and for a second, I can spot a hint of amusement on his face before anger reaches it. “I can’t accept this. You are late. Give me the money in fourteen days or you’re mine. That was the deal. Keep the jewelry, but you will carry my last name,” he barks, like I’m one of his soldiers.

  As if.

  “Oh, please.” I roll my eyes and take a sip of my drink. “Get it out of your head, Ronnie. I will never be yours. You can force me, but is that really what you want?”

  He clenches his jaw and incredulously raises up his arms.

  “We made a deal!” he shouts with force. The tension rises in the room, but it leaves me unaffected. To anyone else, he looks like a raging bull, but to me he looks nothing more than a toddler having a tantrum.

  “A deal I didn’t agree to in the first place! A deal that was a motherfucking mistake because you know I don’t mess with the mob!” My anger level rises, and I keep my gaze locked with his.

  He can yell all he wants. I dealt with the Carrillos for weeks. Ronnie is just one of the boys I went to high school with compared to them.

  “This entire city has been hearing how Callie Reyes is going to be a Distucci for the last seven days. That it was a done deal because you were late. You think people will still take me seriously if I let you walk? I can’t, I’m sorry amoré. We are doing this.”

  “That is ridiculous, Ronnie.”

  “You are too fucking late! You’re marrying me, that is the fucking deal.” His nostrils flare, and I can see the tightness in his neck.

  “Fuck you, Ronnie. This is bullshit!”

  “Oh, whatever, Callie. Don’t you fucking play all innocent now.” He aggressively points his finger at me while still holding his tumbler in the same hand. “You knew damn well she was dating DiMaro. Cristina saw them together a week before the event.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  He shoots me a warning look that tells me to stop playing games. But the thing is, I’m not playing any fucking games.

  “What in the actual fuck are you talking about, Ronnie?” I repeat through gritted teeth.

  “Cristina knew,” he says with furrowed eyebrows. “Cristina knew Summer was dating Gino. That it was getting serious. I ran into her at Jolt, and she hung out with us for a while. When Gino came in with Summer, she asked me ’bout them. She knew.”

  “Motherfucker,” I mutter under my breath, starting to connect dots I really don’t want to connect.

  “She knew?” I whisper to no one in particular while I stare at the floor.

  “She knew,” he parrots in an annoying tone.

  My eyes find his, and his eyes soften when he sees the confusion on my face.

  “She didn’t tell you?”

  I shake my head before downing my entire drink and handing the empty glass to him. Knowing me well enough, he takes the glass and pours me another drink.
r />   Cristina fucked me over?

  I grab the glass, then I take a long drink, feeling the liquid calm my nerves. For a second I close my eyes, allowing the alcohol to settle in some more, until my eyelids raise again.

  We look at each other in frustration before Kenzo snaps us out of it.

  “Makes sense, though, Ronnie,” he comments before Ronnie faces towards him. “Callie never messed with one of us. If she wasn’t sure about a target or a job, she gave us a call. Although she talks to us like a bitch,” he adds while his eyes land on mine, making me pull a face in response, “she’s never fucked with us.”

  Ronnie’s hand reaches up to run a hand through his hair while he exhales loudly.

  “The entire city, Kenzo. What the fuck are we going to say?”

  “Just tell them you dumped me. Tell them you fell in love with some other girl. Tell them I slept with Kane Carrillo, and you don’t want his sloppy seconds. There’s a whole list of shit we can come up with,” I suggest.

  His head snaps towards mine while his eyes widen incredulously.

  “You slept with Carrillo?”.

  I let out a big sigh, not wanting to talk about it.

  “Before he kidnapped me. Yes,” I lie, rolling my eyes.

  “Are you out of your goddamn mind?”

  “It’s not like I knew he was going to kidnap me, for fuck’s sake.”

  “Jesus, Callie.”

  “Yeah, tell me about it,” I concur.

  “Give the girl a break, Ronnie.” Kenzo gives me a sympathetic look.

  Ronnie looks at his friend for a while, a silent conversation spoken between the two of them, before his gaze moves back to me.

  “You know I’m not going to give you change, right?”

  “I know, you can keep it.”

  “You are giving me a three million dollar tip?”

  “Nice try.” I smirk.

  The corner of his mouth rises in a boyish grin, and I stifle a chuckle, thinking how he used to wrap any girl around his finger in high school using nothing more than sweet words and that particular grin.

  Everyone but me.

  Finally, he softly shakes his head, and I know I’ve got him in my corner.

  “What do you want, amoré?” He picks up the bottle in front of him and pours himself another finger.

  “Two passports, a safe house, and two mill in cash. The rest of it can be your tip.”

  “Two passports? You’re taking Genny?” Kenzo’s face lights up at the mention of her name, and I softly nod. When you think of it, it’s actually kinda sad. Two Italian boys, both having a weakness for two Irish girls who will never give them anything more than friendship.

  Poor bastards.

  “Where is she?” Kenzo looks at me with a face like a puppy asking for a treat.

  “Someplace safe.”

  Ronnie rubs one of his palms against his chin, his glass resting on his leg before his eyes find mine again.

  “You know I can keep you safe, right?” The look on his face is soft, and it melts my heart just a little. “It’s not like I haven’t before.”

  I hold his gaze, slowly seeing the hero syndrome kick in like it did so many years ago. I always saw his weakness for me as annoying, like he was some kind of rash I needed to get rid of, but I couldn’t find a cure for. I was grateful for his help on the worst night of my life, but as soon as Reign wormed his way in to my life, he went back to being a dick who couldn’t let go of his obsession for me. When he forced me to pay for my mistakes, either with money or with my body, I hated him. I wanted to punch the son of a bitch in the face for trying to manipulate me. Right now, I’m glad I never really hurt his feelings, and that I gave him a sense of friendship even though we never really showed it, because even though he feels like nothing more than a means to my end.

  I will fight my way out of this mess, like I always do, but it feels good to know I’m not completely alone. He is willing to take a chance on me even though he knows the Carrillos are probably moving hell to find me, destroying everything that crosses their path.

  Ronnie wants to be the one who saves me.

  The one who protects me from all evil.

  But the problem is, the only one who can save me is the one I’m running from.

  “Why do you want to put a ring on my finger, Ronnie?” For the first time since we’ve known each other, I’m not mocking him. There is no sarcasm in my tone, no ulterior motive.

  “Fuck if I know because you give me a fucking headache every time I see you.”

  I chuckle at his response before we smile at each other. The tension in his body is completely replaced by a relaxed stance, reminding me of the boy I’ve known for so long.

  “You don’t really love me, Ronnie. Everyone else just bores the shit out of you. You need to be challenged. You need a girl who is not afraid to call you out on your shit.”

  “Like you.”

  “Like me,” I agree. “But I’m not her. You know that. But you’ll find her. One day.”

  He quietly stares at me for about half a minute, trying to make me comply with his stoic look.

  Finally, he exhales loudly, and I know he’s given up.

  “Anything else?” A soft strand of his black hair moves in front of his face, and he runs a hand through it, pushing it all to the back of his head.

  “Can you keep everyone off my tail for a few months? Send them on a wild goose chase?”

  “I can do anything, amoré. But I don’t like this idea. Just stay with us. We will protect you.”

  I get up, not wanting to get his hopes up.

  “Don’t worry about me. I will be fine. I just need a little help in the right direction.”

  He nods before pouring the whiskey down his throat.

  “Si, give Kenzo the address where you’re staying. He will stop by tomorrow, then you can be on your way.”

  “I’ll come back here.” There is no way I’m telling anyone where I am.

  I can’t risk it.

  “Thanks, boys. It was a pleasure doing business with you,” I call out as I walk towards the door I came through.

  My hand is on the doorknob when Ronnie calls out my name with his thick New York accent like only he can.

  “He tamed you, didn’t he?” I don’t ask for an explanation because I know exactly who he’s talking about. His face looks genuine, even though a little bit of jealousy is shooting out of his eyes.

  “Nobody can tame me, amoré.” I smile before I give him a wink and walk out the door.

  Three

  Callie

  Present Day

  I listen to Ronnie’s words coming through the phone he gave me as he says, “You’ve got 48 hours, amoré. You have to be gone before that.”

  My teeth grind in annoyance, even though I knew this was inevitable.

  This is my life now.

  Always on the fucking run.

  “They found us?”

  “Yeah, but they’re not the only thing you have to worry about.” He sounds tired, and I can sense that he’s not telling me everything. Before I left, we agreed that we would keep our conversations as short as possible, but this time my curiosity won’t let me hang up.

  “What do you mean?”

  He lets out a deep breath while I hear voices in the background.

  “Niente, amoré. Don’t worry about it, I’ve got you, remember? Just make sure you leave tomorrow. My guy will be waiting for you at the meeting point. I got you a new safe house, and if I can, I’ll meet you. We can talk there. I gotta go. Ciao, amoré.” Without waiting for a reply, he hangs up the phone, having me cursing through the phone.

  Italian prick.

  I look onto the colorful street, watching the locals driving down the street in their classic cars. With my arms resting on the pine green railing of our piece of shit apartment, I wonder how it is that I feel safe in this city. The last rays of sunshine are warming my face when I notice a black mutt wandering the street, looking for his next m
eal.

  “Hola, Guapaaaaa!” I look down following the sound then smile at the man walking underneath my balcony, dressed in khaki pants, a short sleeve dress shirt, and a white fedora. His white teeth are in contrast with his mocha skin, and his eyes are beaming with joy.

  It’s Friday night, so he’s probably making his way to one of the many salsa parties in the old center.

  “Hola Papí!” I chuckle.

  It took me a while to get used to the constant flirting the Cuban people are well known for. The first few nights here I was still so on edge that I was ready to punch any male giving me attention right in the face, but thank God we met Gloria.

  A sassy little vixen with her black curls and red lips.

  She was the epitome of sensuality and taught us all about the customs in Havana.

  I watch the man sauntering down the street before he disappears around the corner and my eyes move back in front of me.

  A large Cuban flag is hanging in the middle of the street, and I let my eyes wander over the blue, red and white colors while the humid air hugs my body. I look down at the black watch sitting on my slender wrist like I’ve done obsessively for the last three months, even though it makes my heart hurt every single time.

  I miss him.

  I fucking miss him, and I hate it.

  I should hate him. I should fear him. I should be preparing myself to run a bullet through his head, but my heart just wants one last time.

  One last kiss.

  One last hug.

  One last conversation.

  I know it will be only a matter of time before he finds me, and only God knows what he will do to me, but I dread the day as much as I long for it.

  I know what I heard. My mind won’t let me see it any other way.

  He was planning to kill me even though I was no longer a threat because he didn’t give a shit about me. I was just currency he kept until I was no longer needed.

  But my heart keeps protesting the thought, craving him just as much as before, if not more. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I had called him out on it.