For Adriano (10 page)

She stumbles back on the bed.

Rubbing my hands over my jaw, I groan in agitation. I’m so infuriated. I just can’t handle this now.

It’s true that I have no idea if Luca will let this go and keep it from James. I think he will, but I need to talk to him to confirm. He’ll probably protect Fallon and will want to cover up their escape attempt too.

I charge out the door, not knowing how to control my emotions. Since yesterday, I’ve been on edge, and she’s inciting me more.

I feel the need to fuck up Damian. To fuck up her for kissing another. I inhale a deep breath to control my need to throw my fist into the wall. I still can’t handle myself well enough to talk about this with Cam. I might hurt her when I’m this manic.

Striding to the bar, I fish a cigarette and my lighter from my pocket. I let the smoke burn down my throat and lean forward with both hands bracing the counter.

Her uncertain footsteps come closer, stopping next to me. I take another drag and look ahead, not facing her. “You need to leave and be careful. I need to think, so we’ll talk tomorrow.”

“You’re just letting me go?” she asks, surprised.

“No. I’m firing you. Beyond that, I don’t know yet.” Tipping the ash from the end of the cigarette into the metallic ashtray, I turn my face toward her and say in a low voice I don’t recognize, “I can’t discuss what happened with you now. I’m too angry with you.”

Her hand comes up as if to touch my cheek, but she hesitates and lowers her arm. “Adriano—”

“Go to the room and stay there. I’m taking you home in the morning. We’ll discuss your mess then.” I raise my brows, ordering her to go without words.

Her eyes dart away and then back. And she tries again. “Adriano...”

“Don’t.” I grip the counter harder. “GO!”

She slinks away with a sad look.

After a long time, I crush out the cig and go after her.

She’s lying on top of the covers, staring solemnly at the ceiling in the dark room.

Unclasping my watch, I leave it on the nightstand and lie down in the same position, not touching her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers softly.

“For what?”

“I’m not sure.” Her fingers inch closer to mine on the mattress, and she strokes them.

My eyes fall closed, and my body instantly reacts.

Our breathing grows heavy, and then her kissing Damian flashes across my vision, so I move my hand away.

“Go to sleep, Cam,” I say with bite.

I’m aware of her the entire the night, and sleep is unattainable.

*

That was our last night together. I took her home in the morning and told her to lock her doors and that I’d be back later. Syndicate complications ate up all of my time for three days, and I’d texted and called her – she was secretive, but so was I. I was going to talk to her about where we’d go from there, but when I got to her apartment, no one was there. Her neighbor told me she’d gone. I broke open the door and was appalled by the poor state of her apartment. Immediately, concern set in, and I called Luca to check to see if the Syndicate had seized her. He said they hadn’t, and I’ve been looking for her ever since.

I’ve been trying to juggle so many balls lately. My job as
Capo
comes first. Then I have responsibilities at Security Simplicity. I have parents whom I can’t neglect.

I learned the hard way how difficult it is to retrieve information from people when you can’t throw your authority around. I was looking for Cam in secret for months; James didn’t know, only Luca, so I couldn’t use my rank as
Capo
to enforce power.

At times, I gave up and sought comfort in other nameless women, but they were always similar to Cam somehow, and I never felt fulfilled.

Then James revealed she’s his daughter a couple of weeks ago, and told me that I could search with Syndicate approval and use all the influence we have. Still, she’s untraceable. Now, this is our last resort; interrogating a first soldier that works for Fat Sal – if Damian apprehends one.

I fall back onto the bed, filled with remorse. If only James had told me she’s his daughter sooner, then I wouldn’t have had to worry this much the last couple of months. It was a shock to learn she’s his blood, but it was a relief to finally have some help with finding Cam.

No one knew the depth of our feelings. Not even Luca. I’d kept so much between Cam and me private. She’d worked her way inside my life, and I didn’t, yet I did, want it. If we don’t find her alive and well, then I’m sure I’ll be doomed to live with this hollow feeling.

I sit back up, take out my phone, and decide it’s time to inform Luca that he needs to return to the Loop.

“Amico,”
he answers more cheerily than I’ve ever heard him. “What’s—Hey!” Fallon’s voice comes booming through the phone.

“Hey,
dolcezza
. How’s Venice?” I call her
dolcezza
as well, just to bug Luca.

“Amazing!” she practically sings.

“Don’t call her
dolcezza
!” Luca warns, and I laugh. He then talks to her. “I’ll be right back.” And a door closes on his end.

“What’s up, Adriano?”

“We’ve got problems.”

“Syndicate?”

“Yes and Security Simplicity. Money has been stolen. Jeffrey’s getting numbers now. And James just gave me the go-ahead to use the extent of our power to find a lead on Cam. Damian is finding a first soldier of Fat Sal’s now. I need you to come back to handle SS.”

“Okay...” His voice trails off as he mulls over his options. “I have a wife to consider now.”

Knowing Fallon, I ask, “What’s she doing?”

He’s silent before answering, “Reading.”

Just as I thought.

“Yeah, she won’t mind coming back. I’ll tell her it’s because of Cam. I’ll make arrangements and get on the first flight.”

“Thanks, man.” I rub a hand down my tired face and hang up.

And I exit the house, still fully on edge. Her absence from my life is hitting me harder than I ever could’ve imagined.

***

I head farther up north toward the warehouse with a song on the radio filling the space, drowning out my thoughts. The warehouse is an abandoned space the Syndicate uses for interrogations and storage of our drug supply. Sand dusts up behind the rear as I drive up to the old, one-story brick building and switch off the radio. Damian confirmed he has Fat Sal’s first soldier in custody and that he’s almost here. I stub my cigarette and push the button to close my window.

His beamer comes into view in my rearview mirror, and he parks behind me. I wait for him to exit his vehicle and expose his captive: a man of medium build with a ponytail and wearing a sweat suit. His hands are tied at the wrists, and he’s screaming.

I get out as Damian slams him against the side of his car.

After shrugging out of my suit jacket, I throw it on the back seat and adjust my gun at the small of my back.

“Do you even fucking know who I am?” the man spits.

Damian smiles and presses his arm against his throat. “I don’t care. My organization dominates yours.”

He splutters something unidentifiable.

“Who is he?” I ask Damian when I’ve made my way closer.

“Christopher,” Damian answers.

“What the fuck is this about?” Christopher looks to me while struggling against Damian.

“Stop fighting him,” I order. “Loosen your hold, Damian.”

Damian conforms.

“I know who you are, Christopher. You’re one of Fat Sal’s first soldiers. And that’s exactly why I need you.”

He calms through his harsh breathing.

“I’m looking for information that leads to the whereabouts of Camilla Guillermo.”

His eyes narrow in mistrust.

Before he starts lying, I warn, “We know she worked at the Club 7. I need to know more about her past.”

“I don’t know anything about her.”

“How well do you know her?” I take one step forward.

“She worked in the fight club.”

I tilt my head to the side. “Christopher, you’re not helpful. I wouldn’t have taken you if I didn’t already know she worked in that depraved fight and sex club. What more do you know of her? Did she have friends? With whom did she associate?”

After a long pause, he answers, “No one.”

I throw my head back and groan. “You just missed your chance when I asked nicely.” I wave my hand toward the warehouse entrance.

From the corner of my eye, I see him head-butting Damian, who stammers back.

“Fuck!” Damian cries and covers his nose, blood streaming down his fingers.

Christopher sees his chance and storms off, tumbling into the sand with his hands tied behind his back.

I jump onto his back, and we both grunt as we hit the ground and sand blows into my nose and mouth. Pushing a knee into his lower back, I keep him incapacitated.

Christopher attempts to buck me off him, so I stuff his face into the sand. “Hold still or I’ll shoot you.” I spit sand from my mouth, and it lands next to his ear. “Damian,” I shout.

The idiot is still clutching his nose.

“He fucking broke it!”

Serves you well!

“Get over here!”

I push my knee harder into my captive’s back, making him howl in the sand. Then I jerk his head back. “What do you know about Camilla?”

Patience left my body a couple of months ago. I’m ready to kill a first soldier to find her. My pent-up rage searches for release, and having Damian in my proximity when I’ve been filled with memories of Cam all day, worsens my state. “Talk.”

“What exactly do you want to know? Arghh!” he cries when I yank his hair.

Granted, my question was a bit vague. “Has she been seen at or been in contact with anyone at the fight club?”

“No!”

“So you haven’t seen her since she left her job?”

A confused look is sent to me.

“What?!” I shout and twist his face more toward me. With one free hand, I grab my Swiss pocket knife.

“What what?” he repeats frantically when I unclick the small, sharpened knife right beside his ear and struggle to keep him under control beneath me.

Where the fuck is Damian?

“Damian, stop being a fucking girl and get over here!” Then I demand of Christopher, “Why were you surprised when I said Cam left the job?”

“I w…w…wasn’t,” he stammers.

Damian finally steps closer, and I shift off Christopher and motion toward my knee in his back, silently ordering my soldier. Damian takes Christopher’s wrists and mirrors my position.

On my haunches, I keep Christopher’s hair locked in a death grip and cut his wrists free while Damian restrains him with his body. I grab one arm and Damian the other, spreading them.

With my knife next to his face and Damian holding him down, his fighting is useless. “If I don’t get helpful answers, I’m going to cut a finger off.”

His eyes widen, and he stutters, “She…she never left. She ran.”

“From the club?” She must’ve run from the underground fight and sex club. I’ve been in that underground area once, and it didn’t seem like everyone was there by choice.

“Fight club.”

At least I can confirm if he’s telling the truth. But I’m not sure I want to hear what’s coming. “Has she been back to the club?”

He hesitates just a second too long and his eyes avert. “No.”

He’s lying, because she was in that club once when I was also inside – we didn’t cross paths, and I have no idea what she was doing, but I did discover later that she was also there. So many questions swirl around.

“Is she with Fat Sal? Is he hiding her?” I spit more sand from my mouth.

No answer. Why the hell is he suddenly silent?

“Answer me!” My fingers clamp around the knife handle, and I break the thin skin on his hand by following the faint blue trail of an artery.

“Stop!” he screams and struggles, causing me to tighten my hold on his wrist.

“Is she with Fat Sal?” I grit my teeth.

“No.” He jerks against Damian, almost throwing him off.

“Jesus Christ, Damian, get a grip!” I reprimand him shamelessly in front of a captive.

“What’s with you lately?” Damian retorts with an irritated look.

“You know,” I growl, almost reaching my limit for today.

He’s quiet and stands down. “Camilla?”

My jaw clenches when I hear him speak her name, and this is the moment that I break. That all the pent-up emotion spurts out. “I told you she was off limits!”

“Did she tell you about that night?” he asks, astonished.

Why did he say ‘night’? And not ‘kiss’? I hide my surprise and lie, “Yes.”

“We were drunk, and it wasn’t supposed to go that far. I never thought she’d tell you we slept together,” he reveals.