For Luca (Chicago Syndicate Book 2) (13 page)

And at last, I’m greeted by a widening grin, and I wink at him. His hand balls into a fist, making me think he’s also fighting his emotions. Neither of us breaks eye contact, and I can feel a pull building between us. This is the first real, open conversation we’ve had since the summer, since I was kidnapped, and it fuels the longing I still have for Luca. Flashes of our last time together in the bathroom of Cocktails & Heels send tingles straight to my lower stomach.

A flash of Camilla also pops up. “How’s Camilla?”

His face freezes in lines of tension that harden almost imperceptibly.
“None of your business.”

The mention of Camilla turns him cold. Why? I’ve gotten a lot of answers today, but I still need to find out about Camilla. “Please, I need to know if she’s okay.”

He bites the inside of his cheek. “I can’t answer that; she’s missing.”

“What? How?” I whisper-shout, and shoot the customer at the next table an apologetic look when her heads whips toward my elevated voice.

Luca releases an irritated breath. “Calm down. We simply fired her, and then she disappeared. We don’t know where she is. You haven’t talked to her?”

“No, I swear, but she crosses my mind often because it’s impossible to find any semblance of peace until I know she’s okay.”

I’m tempted to tell him how much I miss him, but his distant behavior is setting all kinds of alarm bells off. I don’t get the chance to speak my mind because a shadow falls over our table, and Luca hurriedly releases my legs, which were still trapped between his. My head turns to a waitress with her coat hanging off her arm and bag dangling from her hand. Her attention is focused on Luca and his on her.

My mouth drops open slightly as realization dawns on me that he wasn’t here to reminisce about our past, but for her. It’s the same waitress that was always flirting with him when we were here together, and the dirty look she used to give me has turned into a full-blown glare today. Blinking repeatedly to hide my whirling emotions, I catch Luca’s eyes, and I’m confronted with his despondent silence while he avoids looking at me.

“Are you ready?” she asks in an annoyingly sweet and innocent tone and rests her hand on his shoulder as my glower is fixed on Luca’s face.

He moves away from her touch, and I’ve never seen him this uncomfortable. If I thought the situation was awkward before, I think both of us really want to vanish into thin air at this point.

The waitress ignores the tension between us and takes a step toward the exit.

“I’ll be right there,” he murmurs to her.

She stands uncertainly and gives me an indignant look before turning on her heel and waiting at the door for Luca.

Jealousy always creeps up when you don't want it to.
He opens his mouth to say something then shuts it while I’m pursing my lips together to hold in my tears from seeing him with another woman. They’re going on a date. It never occurred to me that he would be dating again. Now I understand how he felt after seeing me with Evan. He shakes his head slowly and rises while I keep my attention straight ahead on his espresso cup.

“I’ll let you know when Collopy is handled.”

I look up through my lashes and attempt to form a smile. “Thank you.” And I quickly avert my gaze back to the cup as his eyes burn holes into me. He stands there without moving a muscle, and I muster up all my courage to say what I’m feeling. Even though I have no right to ask him this because I ended it with him, but I can’t hold it in. “
Luca, don't go with her,” I plead while the woman stands in the doorway waiting for him.

Indecision and indignation cross his face as he peers down at me, and then all the sorrow, love, and regret of the past months blister to the surface. Just when I’m hopeful to recognize a hint of
my
Luca, he blinks and his eyes turn unrecognizably cold. I don’t know how long he looks down at me, clenching his jaw, but without saying a word, he finally turns and joins her. He chooses her and walks out the door.

Don’t cry.

I close my eyes tightly while his rejection stabs my heart, and a few tears stream down my cheeks. Wiping them away with the back of my hand, I
leave the coffee shop as well, stepping out in the other direction because that’s where life has taken us, in two different directions. He’s moved on without me because I could never accept his world. He’s moved on while I’m still stuck with a broken and irreparable heart. Sometimes I wish I’d never ignored his messages because that’s what caused the distance. Time has weakened any anger I had toward Luca for lying, and all that’s left now is the love still thrumming passionately in every cell in my body.

With hurried paces, I end up at my front door. Seeing Luca clouded my judgment because I didn’t even bother to ask how he was going to take care of Collopy. Maybe somewhere deep down, I don’t want to know.

I let misplaced jealousy overrule my views, and I honestly can’t blame him for turning me away after I’ve slammed the door on us so many times before. But it still hurts and magnifies the emptiness he’s left behind.

Opening the door, I take two steps into my apartment and am completely blindsided when my forehead collides with the wall. I cry in pain as my keys and purse drop from my hand. The door is kicked shut as a body presses against my back and a fist knots roughly in my hair.

“You fucking bitch, I knew you would run to him,” a woman snaps in my ear as my head is yanked back and then smashed against the wall.

A burning ache spreads out from my nose, and warm liquid gushes over my lips and chin – I’m bleeding. Completely disoriented, I try to crane my neck, but the pain throbbing in my head prevents any movement. However, I don’t need to see to confirm it’s Collopy. How did she get in?

“Did you two plan this? It’s very convenient that he was right inside the coffee shop, wasn’t it? Because of that asshole, I can’t live my life anymore! Fuck, I’m being set up,” she yells, more to her herself, through her ragged breathing. “He isn’t untouchable, you know. He thinks he’s god and can do whatever he wants without any consequences.”

Collopy must have been watching me when she called. During her mad tirade, her unyielding grasp in my hair loosens, and I immediately push off the wall with all my strength, sending us flying backward and tumbling onto the ground, missing the coffee table by inches.

She recovers far easier than I do and rolls on top of me, spitting in my face as she continues her rant. “What the fuck am I supposed to do now?”

My double vision clears slightly, and I can see that Collopy has obviously been beaten. Her face and neck are covered in bruises and nasty cuts. On instinct, I dig my nails into the wounds on her neck to inflict the most pain.

“Argh…fuck!” She spasms in agony, and I take the opportunity to kick her off of me.

I brace the table and try to stand, but I’m still disoriented, and my legs sway as I blink frantically to try to clear my eyesight. I fly forward when she kicks me hard in my lower back, and my temple hits the sharp edge of the coffee table.

Then everything goes black.

CHAPTER 15

Luca

 

 

She seems so small and fragile, peering up at me with her lovely big eyes. “Luca, don’t go with her.”

The tremble in her voice almost obliterates my resolution to keep a certain distance for my own protection. She has no idea how fucking much I miss her. Every. Single. Day. I’ve forgotten about the other woman waiting for me at the door when I’m lost in her amber eyes.

I’ve visited the coffee shop three times because it gives me comfort to be here, where our relationship began. And of course, I run into Fallon on the one day I wish I wouldn’t. Brenda asked me out again today, and taking Adriano’s advice to date, to live a little again, I finally agreed. It’s gutting me to witness the hurt stemming from her body now. Her body that has changed: her hips are curvier and her cheeks are fuller, adding even more beauty to her already stunning appearance.

I always thought that this moment – when she finally confides in me and asks directly for help – would be more satisfying. Instead, it’s only solidifying the wedge between us.

We hadn’t had any contact for an excruciatingly long two months, but as long as I knew she was doing well, I could go on with my life. We never found out who was behind drugging her drink in that bar, which to this day still displeases me. And David always came back with positive updates about her daily life, no more weird incidents. She was fine, and James ordered me to let it go because I was using too many Syndicate resources to find out who spiked her drink. I finally decided that I had to take control over my obsession to protect her, so I let her go, but she’s still never far from my mind.

God, I want to stay and blow Brenda off, but I’m not starting this again with her. I won’t survive losing her again when she finds out something about my Syndicate life that she can’t understand. If I stay, I’ll regress, and I need to keep moving on with my life.

I’ve tortured men for hours without an ounce of remorse. But walking away from Fallon when she confesses, in her own way, that she misses me is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.

In my fantasy, I ravage her, bruising her luscious lips with mine. However, in reality, I turn around without acknowledging her words, and it cripples me that she has to witness me leaving with Brenda, so I practically shove Brenda out the door.

“Where shall we go?” Brenda asks.

Shut up. I’m devastated by my dismissal of Fallon.

As I pass the window, Fallon’s still staring at the table, and my heart explodes with guilt when she tightens her lips together to hold back the impending tears. And just as I see a few tears spill, she’s out of sight.

Seeing Fallon like that makes me realize that I can’t do this, so I immediately ditch Brenda. “Brenda, something came up. I have to go.” And I cross the busy street before she can reply.

She yells something at me, but I simply ignore her because I have more important things to take care of. I’m surprised that Collopy is back in The Loop and contacted Fallon. I’ve blocked all of Collopy’s accounts and have been searching for her for a long time. Adriano found out she was living in a homeless shelter outside The Loop a few weeks back, and she got into a fight there, but after that, she was untraceable again. She’s retaliating by blackmailing Fallon, and because she desperately needs money to probably leave the country so she can stay out of my clutches.

After rounding the corner to step into the dimly lit garage where my car is parked, I take out my phone to update Adriano. When I hear footsteps approaching behind me, I let the phone slide back into my pocket and spin around just as someone covers my head with a bag, and I’m unable to grab my gun in time. “What the fuck—”

Another person pulls my arms back while I struggle, but I manage to head-butt the person in front of me, which is answered with what feels like his fist hitting the side of my head. The other man strengthens his hold and ties my hands and then takes my gun from my back waistband.

“A gun. Interesting,” a low male voice says. “Move.” I’m shoved forward, and I hear a door being opened. Then I’m pushed inside to lie on my front while a foot is planted harshly into my back.

We’re moving. I’m in the back of a vehicle – my guess is a van. I start counting and listening intently to determine if I can distinguish any outside noises, but I’m distracted when the bag is pulled up slightly and something soft is pressed roughly against my mouth and nose.

I lose consciousness.

 

***

 

I’m shackled by my arms and feet – immobilized on a board that’s inclined twenty degrees so that my feet are above my head – when I wake in a concrete room with one yellow light bulb hanging from the ceiling. My throat is dry, and I have no idea how long I’ve been unconscious.

Two men in black clothing enter, wearing black masks and gloves so that I can only see their eyes. One of them holds a watering can in his hand. I struggle uselessly in the restrains and realize my phone is still in my pocket.

Cazzo! Fuck! They’re going to waterboard me.

They’re going to shock my system without having me lose consciousness to keep me on the agonizing border between life and death, which is generally the goal of this intimidating method of torture.

For the first time in years, panic floods me when water is poured onto my inclined face by the man to my left so that it runs into my upturned mouth and nose.
As I cough and try to blow it out, the other person covers my mouth with saran wrap to keep the water trapped inside.
Water flows into my throat, nose, and sinuses; however, my lungs don't fill up because my chest is elevated above my head and neck to prevent suffocation, but I do feel my breathing passages drowning from the inside, causing extreme pain. The unbearable sensation of drowning causes my entire body to convulse in the restraints, almost breaking my bones in the process. It lasts a few seconds, but those few seconds tick by excruciatingly slowly.

And then he stops. Through my irregular breathing and teary eyes, it takes me a moment to grasp that the water has stopped hitting my face.

The same gruff voice from the parking garage speaks, and he leans in close enough for me to determine his eyes are dark blue. “Who are you?” He removes the plastic that covers my mouth, and I gurgle the water out, wheezing and coughing.

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