For Luca (Chicago Syndicate Book 2) (11 page)

BOOK: For Luca (Chicago Syndicate Book 2)
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Lying down next to Fallon, I pull her into my side with her head on my chest and entangle our legs. “Sleep, Fallon.”

“No—”

“Don’t fight it, just sleep.” I trace my fingers down her back and hip until her breathing evens out.

Rolling her onto her other side, I press my body against hers from behind, nuzzling her hair, and I fall into a deep sleep. The first deep sleep I’ve had in months.

 

***

 

I open my eyes only to immediately squeeze them shut again as I rub my face into the pillow and groan. I’m pressed tightly against Fallon’s body, and my hand cups the swell of her breast.

She stirs as her toes explore the surface of my leg, and I’m amazed by how this simple touch can fulfill me. She cranes her neck, and I almost laugh when I look at her cranky face.

“Why am I in only my panties?”

“It was all you had on under that dress.” I keep my hold on her.

“Did we have sex?”

“Technically, no.” I deny her any time to think and continue while rolling onto my back. “Do you remember last night?” The white ceiling has some cracks.

She turns to her other side, facing me. “Yes. Up until we came home.”

“Nothing happened when we came home; you went to sleep.” I rub my hand down my face. “Did you take any X last night?”

“I didn’t—”

Looking at her, I warn, “Don’t you dare lie to me. I know how your mind works, but you have to be honest now.”

“I swear, Luca. I didn’t take anything—”

Again, I interrupt because I want to ask all my questions quickly. “Who was with you? You didn’t go in alone, but I found you by yourself.” David said she was with a companion when he called me.

“Jason left early. I was only going to finish my drink and then head home.” She takes a deep breath and presses her hand to her forehead.

“How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” she answers with eyes closed.

“Someone spiked your drink.” I add, “
If
you didn’t take it voluntarily.”

“I only had one drink, a Long Island Iced Tea that I drank while sitting at the bar. I did
not
take any XTC.”

Her tone is rising in exasperation, messing with my intent to talk to her calmly.
She
puts herself in danger, and
I
come to the rescue to get annoyance in return? She doesn’t get to be annoyed here. I get out of bed, tug on my pants, and proceed to set her straight.

“First, I think it’s ridiculously irresponsible of your
friend
to leave you alone at a bar. Second, I fucking help you – after not seeing or speaking to you for almost two months – to get your aggravation turned on me, yet again!” I’m furiously buttoning up my dress shirt while she sits up and covers her breasts with the sheet. “Third, forgive me for not believing you since you’ve always been so forthcoming in the past. Tell me, why was your drink spiked? Are you in trouble?” I tower over her beside the bed.

I’m giving her one more chance to tell me about the note or anything else she might know about why she’s being followed and drugged.

“He didn’t just leave me. I chose to stay and finish my drink alone,” she defends and doesn’t bother to address anything else I said.

“Why is it so difficult for you to trust me? Somewhere deep down you must trust me or else you wouldn’t have kept the money.”

For a long time she just stares at me, and then she mutters, “I’m sorry. Thank you for last night. Someone must’ve spiked my drink. Maybe it was random? Or maybe it had something to do with you? What were you doing there? Are you still following me?”

The mattress dips as I drop down to sit beside her hip. “I know you still don’t have a job and that you stay inside this apartment all the time.” Her sorrowful, tired eyes soften me. “What’s happening, Fallon?”

She places her hand on my thigh. “I miss you.”

I stroke the back of my hand down her exposed neck. “
Mi manchi anche tu.
I miss you too. But we bring out each other’s weaknesses. We don’t trust one another. Can you accept me? All of me? Even when I come home with blood on my hands? No, you can’t. I’m a killer. I’m a drug dealer.” It’s the first time I ever confessed it to her in a matter-of-fact way, and it makes her wince, so I twine my fingers in her hair tightly. “And that’s all you focus on. You think I live in another world, but you forget that it’s the same world as yours. Nothing is what it seems. One day you’ll understand that. And right now,
I
need to focus on my job.” I bring my forehead to hers, and my gaze moves to her pink nipples, which are now exposed because the sheet has fallen out of her grasp and fluttered around her hips. 

I need to leave.

I release her hurriedly and rise. “You need to take care of yourself. And be careful.”

Seeing the moisture pool in her eyes compels me to turn around and leave because, otherwise, I’ll stay, and I don’t need her to reel me in just when I’ve finally moved on without her. Besides, I have the Syndicate to focus on.

When I’m in the doorway, she comments sadly, “I guess I’m still a little lost.”

“Try harder to find your way back,” I reply without facing her, and then I leave.

When I’m in front of her building, I hail a cab that takes me to my Maserati, which is still parked at the bar.

 

***

 

Once I’m in my car and headed home, I contact David, and he informs me that he couldn’t find the guy. Most likely scenario is that the man who followed her into the bar drugged her drink. But why use ecstasy? Why not use a date rape drug? What was his intention?

When I arrive home, I fish out my phone. “Adriano, David lost the guy who followed her into the bar, and I guess that guy must’ve added the X to her drink. Who the fuck would be after her?”

“Well, it must be connected to you,” he answers.

“That doesn’t really narrow down our choices.” I rack my brain on our latest kills: Jack, Alex, and Danny. “What do we know about who Alex and Danny left behind?”

“I already looked into Alex’s family. All clean. His brother dissolved the company, and they all moved on fairly quickly; I don’t think Alex was well-loved in his own family. Danny’s family is a bit more obscure, so I’ll dig a bit deeper there tomorrow.”

“Keep me posted.”

After ending my call with him, I go to my bedroom nightstand and retrieve what I’ve been planning to send Fallon for weeks – something I took from my private room at the house right before the living room exploded. I take it to the reception area downstairs and leave them instructions to have it delivered to her the following day. 

Once I’m back in my apartment, I go to the kitchen where I pull on the steel handle of the cabinet beneath the island and retrieve the Jack Daniels and a shot glass, which I place next to the sink. I roll my neck and gaze at the label on the bottle. Rubbing my hand over my stubble-covered chin, I consider whether or not to pour a drink. I take the bottle in hand and tilt it into the shot glass. Then I stop, realizing one drink will lead to more, and I need to keep a clear mind. Especially now, since James has been on my case. I set the bottle back on the counter because I shouldn’t let her get to me. The moment will come when she reveals everything. When she figures out that she
does
need me and discloses everything I’m missing now. But until that time, she’s not my priority anymore, and I have other important Syndicate business that needs my attention. Swiping my arm over the counter, I slide the bottle and drink into the sink, and the shot glass splinters into tiny pieces.

One night with her and I feel like I’ve taken three steps back, so I start the process of coping with the burden of missing Fallon all over again.

CHAPTER 13

Fallon

 

 

Luca doesn’t say goodbye, which strikes me as odd. Nevertheless it
is
a goodbye. And that’s left me more disheartened and hollow than ever before. The front door closes softly while I’m reliving last night’s encounter in the bathroom. I scoot back down on my bed and remember everything vividly. How I was able to quiet that voice in the back of my mind, that voice of reason I’ve grown accustomed to in my upbringing. That voice that convinces me it’s wrong to love a killer, a dealer. In those moments, I truly enjoyed myself. It was liberating to just feel happy again. Unfortunately, it was due to a drug. And today, a sense of sadness hits me harder than the last couple of months. Luca must still be following me for a good reason. He didn’t just coincidentally show up at that bar. And there were two moments when I left my drink unattended, so it must’ve been done during one of those times, and it must be related to Luca.

The anger he unleashed on me the last time I saw him at his penthouse was still there, but the Luca that loves me is the one I woke up to. It felt too good to wake up with him spooning me. The entire night he was pressed against my back, and I was wonderfully aware of it and so caught up in preserving my sense of bliss that I contentedly fell asleep. 

I’m sure Luca knows about the note Alex left. So why does it anger him that I haven’t told him about it myself? Am I still in the dark about what’s going on? Alex’s investigation will be closing soon, and I thought that would be the end of my connection to Luca and his Syndicate – which is a bittersweet thought because I want to be safe, but I also wish I could be with him. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t consider reaching out, and being with him again brought every emotion back to the surface.

I ache for him in a way I’ve never ached before.

But he’s right; I pushed him away. And I’m clearly not a good influence on him anymore. When he’s with me, he can lose his temper within a split second. As I’m mulling all these thoughts over in my brain, the fatigue wins, and I drift back into a restless sleep.

 

***

 

The days after the XTC incident, I’m feeling progressively more depressed and ever more anxious. I check the front door lock throughout the day, and I don’t leave the apartment. When the buzzer rings on Monday to notify me of a delivery, I head down to retrieve my package instead of letting strangers into the building. While climbing back up to my apartment, I squeeze the package and frown. It feels like a book, but I haven’t ordered any paperbacks from Amazon in months.

When I’m back inside my apartment, I lock the door and tear open the package. Tears immediately pool in my eyes, blurring my view, while I gaze at the paperback copy of
Tatiana and Alexander
by Paullina Simons, the copy Luca gave me when I was held at the Syndicate’s headquarters. I never finished reading this story.

As I clutch the book to my chest, I tiptoe to the couch and drop down. No matter how much I try to stay positive, I fall asleep while crying, wanting to be held by Luca. He looked good, much better than the last time I saw him, which both comforts and saddens me.

I can’t live like this. I’m the only one holding myself back. Luca has moved on or at least he’s making a decent effort.

 

***

 

By midweek, I finally crawl out of bed with a newfound determination and write a to-do list on my laptop. First, apply to at least three job openings daily. Second, go running every day, but be careful when outside – watch my surroundings. No one will get a chance to follow me or spike my drink again. Luca would be proud; I’m finally listening to his advice. I smile sadly and rub my fist over my heart to dull the pain from missing him. Third, call Detective Wade and inquire about Alex’s investigation. If that case is officially closed, it will give me some peace. If not, then maybe I should talk to Luca. I’m beginning to understand the extent of his power. Fourth, call my friends more often. Fifth, visit my parents within the next month. I need to stop closing myself off from the world and can’t let others frighten me into being a recluse. Sixth, ditch the no-carbs-on-weekdays diet and enjoy food whenever I want.

Now it’s time to get out of this apartment. I quickly get dressed, grab my laptop, and visit the coffee shop around the corner to treat myself to a muffin and tea while I search for job openings. Seated at the window and facing the passing pedestrians, I devour the buttery muffin in a few huge bites. The couple at the table next to me are murmuring endearments to each other and exchanging pecks on the mouth, which reminds me of the void inside of me. That emptiness of missing Luca makes me feel unfulfilled continuously – the emotional ache heartbreak causes.

Stop it!

Blinking away the gathering tears, I snap my attention back to my laptop, but instead of applying for jobs, I Google ‘Luca DeMiliano’. I Googled him when we first met but couldn’t find a lot of information, mostly links to Security Simplicity, and I didn’t look further into it. The first results page shows me the company website, links to some kind of software, and affiliated companies. I click ‘Images’ and am surprised to find photos of him at parties and other events. Mostly posed pictures of him with a date, always with an attractive model on his arm.

I push the screen down and order a huge slice of red velvet cake filled with white buttercream and a Lady Grey tea and then decide to send some employers my résumé. After hitting send on my third e-mail, I contact Detective Wade. I hold my phone to my ear, hoping he’ll pick up.

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