by Amelia Wilde
She was still here and still late.
Already she was out of breath as she hurried across the street, narrowly missing being hit by yet another cab. Unfortunately, Lucia didn’t do the delicate, charmingly breathless thing. Oh no. Sweating caused her overly curly hair to stick to her forehead like stringy noodles and she didn’t pant for air in a sexy, Marilyn Monroe kind of way, either. Instead it was more like gasping out her last breath. Her job as a fashion assistant for THE up and coming fashion line didn’t leave much time for anything unnecessary like sleeping, eating or going to the gym. She made a mental note to start taking better care of herself and filed it along with the ten thousand other things she did not have time for.
Dodging traffic counted as a workout, right?
Her phone vibrated in the pocket of her skirt, the early morning humidity and her sweat already making the fabric stick to her legs. She pulled it out while trying to balance the tray of coffees she held with her other arm. Her handbag, a sample from a new designer that her friend JJ had given her just last week, banged against her hip as she trotted through the crosswalk while reading her phone.
- Where the hell are you? Adriana is losing her shit!
Lucia groaned and walked faster. It had taken her longer than expected to get the coffee and she was cutting it way too close to being subject to one of Adriana’s famous tirades. If she’d known she’d be running across town perhaps she would have worn something other than four -inch heels. Perhaps the adorable ballet flats she’d borrowed from the sample closet just last night. However, this was the only chance she’d have to stop by the records office today so she’d have to ignore her already throbbing feet.
When the records office in Southampton had told her they’d sent some of their archives to be held in the city, she’d assumed her research had hit a dead end. It had taken her years to piece together the information she had, and it had been a long shot anyway. After all, what did she expect? Lucia gulped down the huge knot that always rose in her throat when she thought about her brother. Rafe had been gone for six years now, and there were still days she woke up thinking she was fifteen years old again and her favorite person in the world would be in the kitchen making her pancakes.
It was a knife to the gut every time her mind cleared and she remembered that he was gone.
The details of that day were still not entirely clear, but she’d managed to remember enough to figure out where the shooting had taken place and had used every spare moment over the past year to find out more about the owners of the property. It was a struggle to find anyone who remembered anything about it, which was strange in a town where everyone knew everyone. But her tenacity had paid off because she’d gotten a name and had looked up the deed. It had been sold multiple times since then, and the local records office had only digitized their files the prior year. Somehow, some of the files related to the property had been sent off to archives accidentally.
Lucia looked up at the sign over the drab gray building that housed the New York State archives. Her heartbeat danced in her chest. Whatever she found out today could either shed light on the worst day of her life or lead to another dead end. The heavy glass door opened and as she tried to move out of the way, the coffee tray tilted slightly, leaving a wet, brown spot on the front of her white silk blouse. Awesome. There was no way Adriana would miss that.
“Sorry!”
She nodded absently as the man who’d been in such a hurry continued down the sidewalk without taking a second glance back.
“Good day to you, too.”
She pulled the door open and let out a sigh of relief when she saw there was no one else inside. The gods of karma were taking pity on her finally.
“Hi, Brent. I got your message that you have something for me?”
The man behind the counter glanced up from his computer and smiled. Average height with dark hair and a nice smile, Brent was a nice guy. Nice seemed to be the only word she could think of to describe him, actually. He’d helped her fill out an official request the last time she was there and had promised to look in the archives personally. The fact that he’d flirted with her made her feel a little guilty. Lucia had never been the bat-your-eyelashes type and she had no plans to start now. However, she was willing to take any help she could get at this point.
“Hi, how’s your day going so far?”
Lucia set the tray of coffee on the counter between them and hitched her bag higher on her shoulder. She gestured at the brown stain and grinned. “Amazing! As you can see.”
He chuckled, although his eyes lingered on the swell of her breasts a bit longer than was strictly polite. Lucia cleared her throat and his eyes finally snapped back up to hers.
“You said you found something?” she prodded.
“I did. Sorry it took me so long. I’m not sure what happened when the files were transferred, but a bunch of files were in the wrong boxes. Though, as luck would have it, I finally found the deed of sale from the time period you asked for. I made a copy of it for you.”
He reached under the counter and pulled out a yellow, legal-size envelope. With shaking fingers, Lucia pulled it across the counter toward her. She lifted the flap with the tip of her index finger but then closed it again. Tonight was soon enough to go down that rabbit hole.
“So, I was wondering if, maybe, I mean you might not be into it…”
Her phone buzzed in her pocket again and Lucia pulled it out, smiling apologetically at Brent who didn’t even notice. She glanced down at the text message from JJ. It was marked as Urgent.
- Remember that painting on the wall of Rocco’s when we were there for dinner last week? Adriana wants a swatch of Belgian linen in the exact same shade.
Lucia glanced up at Brent, who was still droning on, before quickly typing an answer.
- Belgian Linen in a shade of blue that I barely remember. That’s it? You can’t tell me anything else?
- You know how she is. Just get back here. Fast!
After stashing her phone back in her pocket, Lucia picked up the envelope and threw it in her bag. It was only when she looked up again that she realized Brent was staring at her.
“So, what do you think?” he asked.
“Um, sounds good?” Lucia had no idea what he’d been talking about and then instantly felt guilty for not listening, especially after he’d been so helpful. But she had to magically cross town in less than ten minutes and also conjure up a fabric that looked like something her boss had seen in a restaurant last week.
“I hate to cut and run but I’m late. So, I guess I’ll see you later.” She picked up the tray of coffee, wondering if she should take it back to the office before going back out for the linen swatches.
“Really?” Brent clapped his hands, the loud sound startling her so badly she almost dropped the coffee entirely. He ran a hand through his hair and let out a loud sigh as if he’d just run a marathon. “I mean, that’s great. I’ve been wanting to try this place for a while and I think you’ll really like it. So I’ll pick you up at seven, if that’s okay?”
Wait, what?
Lucia laughed nervously when she realized exactly what she’d missed while engrossed in her phone. She forced a smile while Brent opened a new contact on his phone and then typed her number in. A minute later she was outside on the sidewalk with cold coffee and a date.
It wasn’t the worst thing ever, to go on a date with a nice guy. Although, she had a feeling Noah wouldn’t feel that way when he found out. She winced, imagining how that would go over. But he wasn’t her daddy or her brother. Just a family friend who was way too bossy for his own good. Maybe she wouldn’t tell him. Or she could text him. He couldn’t yell at her over text message.
Nonna had always said that technology would be the death of communication.
“How do you want to play this?”
Noah Blake tugged the baseball cap he wore lower over his forehead before responding to the voice coming through his earpiece. “The usual. Unless he
refuses our invitation.”
“You think he’ll come easy, mate?”
Matthias, the insanely brilliant and also incredibly annoying tech god that he’d had the good sense to hire/rescue years ago had never been the most optimistic guy. One of the reasons they got along so well.
“Do they ever?”
Noah glanced at the row house across the street currently housing their target, William Chamberlin. There was nothing special about this guy at all, just another asshole who needed a reminder that stalking was illegal. They handled several of these a month, and while they weren’t particularly interesting, there was something satisfying about these cases.
Jonas’s voice came through his earpiece next. “If he doesn’t, then I’ll change his mind.”
Noah had to smile at the predictable reply. Opening his own security firm had given him financial freedom and the stability he needed after his chaotic early years, but it also brought a world of headaches. Namely, keeping the merry band of past criminals he employed on the straight and narrow.
“Just don’t kill him.”
Jonas made a sound that could have been a laugh or a snort. “First it was ‘don’t sleep with the clients.’ Now you’re telling me I can’t kill people? You’re no fun lately.”
“When has he ever been fun?” Matthias interjected.
That actually made Noah smile. If someone had told him years ago that he’d be the voice of reason, hell, the responsible one, he’d have thought they were on something. But that was before Rafe died.
That was before Lucia.
Thoughts of her always carried a range of emotions from protectiveness to desire, and of course, there was the guilt. Always the damn guilt. Noah shook his head. He’d promised Rafe that he’d look after her, and he’d done that. It was the least he could do for the man who’d pulled him out of the gutter and shown him a better way to live. He’d upheld his oath and honored the memory of his best friend every day.
But while he’d done his best to shelter her over the past few years, he could never truly be honest with her. She’d never look at him the same way if she knew what he was truly capable of. What her beloved brother had been capable of. It was a quandary with no solution. There was nothing he could do about that. So he’d keep doing what he did best… Lie, cheat and kill? No. Damn it. He shoved the errant thought that slid in on the shoulders of his guilt aside. He would protect her. Just like always.
“Let’s get this fucker.”
He kept his head down as he approached the building, noting that the street was empty and there was no movement in the house. He knew Jonas would approach from the back to prevent any possibility of the target slipping through their grasp. This was a standard job, just letting the guy know that it was best if he stayed away from their client. He wouldn’t call it threatening. Threaten was such a harsh word. This was more like a conversation, but it was a fine line they walked. They did what was necessary to keep their clients safe and most of it was borderline as hell. Just like the rest of his life.
“Guys, we’ve got a runner. He’s going out the back.” Matthias sounded as annoyed as Noah felt, his British accent coming across as clipped. Suddenly, he could hear Matthias in his other comm unit, on the secondary channel. “Noah, head’s up. Lucia has a date tonight. You want me to do the usual?”
Son of a bitch. If he wasn’t chasing assholes, he was making sure some grab-handy dipshit didn’t get his grubby little paws on his best friend’s little sister.
“Yeah, the usual. I’ll get to her as soon as I can.” Noah quickened his pace. He could hear the sound of Jonas’s breathing in his other earpiece and knew he wasn’t in position yet.
“Jonas, he’s probably going to cut over to the next street. Go around and cut him off.”
“Got it.”
He could hear a variety of sounds that were hard to decipher: Jonas’s breathing, the clang that could be a metal fence, and then the unmistakable sound of scuffling. A few muffled curses later, it was quiet.
When he rounded the corner, Jonas already had the guy on the ground with one arm twisted behind his back.
“Good work. I didn’t really feel like sweating today.”
Jonas made a face. “Fuck you, Noah. These shoes were not meant for running.”
The guy on the ground craned his neck, trying to see over his shoulder. When he caught sight of Noah, he struggled against Jonas’s hold and got a knee in his back for the trouble.
“What the fuck, man? Get off me!”
Noah squatted next to him and then pulled out a small picture of a pretty redhead. Clara Spencer. Although she looked nothing like Lucia, it wasn’t a mystery to him why he took these cases so seriously.
Lucia was a good girl; Nonna DeMarco had made sure of that. But even good girls had to grow up some time. And since Rafe wasn’t here to protect her like a big brother, Noah would have to do it. There would come a day when Lucia started dating seriously, and just the possibility that one of those fuckers might treat her like this dickhead, terrorizing her with the threat of what he might do, made Noah want to put his fist through a wall…or this douchebag’s face.
What if something had happened to him? What if he’d died the same day as Rafe? Lucia might have ended up just like Clara Spencer. There were so many girls out there with no one to stand for them. It was his pleasure to stand for as many of them as he could.
He flipped the photo around. At the sight, William blanched and then started struggling anew. Jonas twisted his arm higher until it was clear that he wasn’t going anywhere.
“Do you recognize her? Hmm? I think you do.” Noah spoke softly, having learned over the years that a soft voice could often convey menace more convincingly than a loud one.
“No. I’ve never seen her before!”
“You’re a terrible liar, William. Almost as bad as you are at listening. Because Clara has told you several times not to contact her again. Since you didn’t seem to be getting the picture, we thought we’d stop by and make sure we’re all on the same page.”
Casually, Noah reached in his pocket and pulled out an apple. Then his knife. He ignored the other man’s whimpers and sliced a bit of skin off the fruit.
“Now there’s several ways this can go down. Option number one: You agree to stay away from Clara. My buddy over there—” He pointed at Jonas with the edge of the knife. “—goes home and finishes wanking to Britney Spears videos.”
“Fucking hell,” Jonas mumbled under his breath. “You know I prefer Christina Aguilera. She is dirty after all.”
“And I go home and pretend I didn’t spend my morning in the shittiest part of the city waiting on you. But honestly, I’m feeling a little cranky and you don’t look that bright. So we’re going to stop wasting time and just get on with option number two.”
“I didn’t do anything, I swear,” William mumbled, his face half pressed into the ground.
“I know. And we’re going to make sure it stays that way.”
Noah sliced off the last bit of skin and then took a bite out of the apple before handing the knife to Jonas.
William let out a low whimper. Once he realized that there was no way to escape Jonas’s iron-tight grip, he went slack and a dark spot appeared on the front of his jeans.
Noah sighed. This was about to get messy.
2
Noah watched the date from the comfort of his SUV. All the while silently fuming.
What the hell did Lucia think she was doing? His team hadn't vetted the guy. They didn't know anything about him. So far, she'd broken all of the dating rules he'd given her.
For the first date, always meet your date at your designated location. And of course, she'd let this doofus pick her up for their date. As if he hadn't told her a million times to do the exact opposite.
He'd also been very clear not to get in the car with her date. So that was rule one and rule two broken right off the bat. As if he hadn't trained her on how to be careful and what to watch out for. B
ut oh no, Lucia didn't listen to shit. Every time he turned around, there she was, careening headfirst into trouble.
Maybe she didn't see her date as a potential threat, but dammit she needed to be more careful. What the hell did she even know about this guy?
"What the hell kind of name is Brent anyway?"
Noah hadn't even realized that he'd spoken out loud, until the voice in his comm unit laughed. "Last I checked, Brent is a perfectly normal name. Lots of guys have it."
Noah barely restrained a growl. "Matthias, when I want your input, I'll give it to you."
There was a chuckle on the other end of the line. Noah made a mental note to give Matthias some really horrible surveillance duty for the next month. This wasn't funny. This was Lucia. They all cared about her well-being.
Maybe you more than the others.
Yeah, so what? He cared about her. And maybe it wasn't the easiest thing in the world watching her date loser after loser. But it was his job, no strike that, it was his responsibility to look after her. He owed Rafe that much. But how the hell was he supposed to look out for her when she kept making it so damn difficult? Lucia was obstinate, infuriating, pigheaded, and—
Beautiful.
No. She was like a little sister to him. Yet somehow his dick couldn't seem to get with that program lately. More and more frequently, some very unsisterly thoughts wormed their way into his consciousness.
"Matthias, give me something on this Brent guy. Aren't you supposed to be some kind of super-hacker?"
"You better believe it. But, there's nothing on him. Everything is normal. Boring. Most interesting thing about this guy is he likes adventure sports. He skydives, bungee jumps, that sort of thing. Does some triathlons. Maybe he's some kind of adrenaline junkie. But there's nothing else on him. No flags. He lives here in New York in the East Village. No roommates, rent isn't exorbitant. Works for the city. No large withdrawals of cash, good credit. As far as I can tell, he's clean. But that's just his electronic trail. Maybe you're right on this one and he's a little too clean. I mean, there's not even an online dating profile on him. To me, that's weird. Who doesn't have an online dating profile?"