by Rimmy London
My head tipped and I skipped to the door. But when I opened it, I was a little disappointed at the covered torso in front of me.
Givanni’s wicked grin told me he could read my thoughts too well. “Good morning beautiful.” He chirped, still teasing me with his eyes. From somewhere outside I heard a laugh, and noticed the nervous way he glanced at the closed blinds. “Are all your things at your place?” He questioned.
I nodded, still not sure if his private beach bungalow could really be called my place. But I wasn’t about to argue. “What’s going on?” I asked, clearly catching more noise from outside.
Givanni rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “Well, yeah. I called Officer Brannon from last night just now. It seems we’ve got a lot of company this morning.”
With a frown, I joined him by the window. We peered between the blinds and I couldn’t believe it. At least thirty reporters crowded the front lawn, preening and talking happily to their cameras. “I guess we’re still a story,” I mumbled, trying to take it all in without being seen.
“Be glad about that.” Givanni nodded. “It’s when all this stops that we have to worry.”
With a shrug I looked out the window again, watching the closest reporter hold up a magazine as he spoke, pointing to the cover. I narrowed my eyes, straining to see the image, but it was no use. “Okay.” I sighed, abandoning my lookout. “As long as they’re keeping their distance, let’s eat. Are you hungry?”
French toast was a universally liked, and undestroyable food. So I settled with that. Givanni was clearly feeling out of place being taken care of in his own home. He never once sat still, setting plates and arranging chairs—handing me whatever I might need.
I finally grabbed his shoulders. “Here.” I guided him to a barstool and he sat down. Releasing him, I held a hand up. “Don’t move,” I warned, smiling at his reluctant nod. “This is me helping you—this is what it looks like.”
He laughed but didn’t object, and instead watched me. Closely. I hadn’t felt clumsy until then, when I would glance over and his eyes were searing into me. I dropped an egg shell into the bowl and had to fumble with a fork to fish it out. Next, the plates nearly broke when I accidentally clanked them together.
I didn’t glance over again, arranging a neat pair of toast on each plate. I added a few strawberries on the side and dusted powdered sugar over the top. With a breath I looked up, meeting his green eyes and set our plates down.
He looked impressed, smiling down at his plate. “Thank you.” He kissed my cheek in the same breath and turned his attention to his food. With the way his kiss warmed my skin, my eyes lingered on him. How was I supposed to eat when I could hardly breathe? It was ridiculous, but I managed to take a few bites, trying to keep my cheeks from blushing. Orange juice was my saving grace, washing down the reluctant bites before I could choke to death.
It seemed only a few seconds when we heard the familiar chirp of a siren outside. Voices escalated, and I wished I’d thought to gather my things the night before. Or maybe that I’d had the nerve to sleep in my own house. The clothes I was wearing, while nice, hardly felt flattering after being slept in.
We finished quickly and Givanni studied my face as we walked to the door. I looked back at him, listening to the voices outside. It was so familiar the way he opened the door, angling me behind him before stepping out like he had in Italy. He was always protecting me. Always.
A thousand flashes sounded as he squinted in the morning light. “Loriel! Givanni!” I glanced toward each voice, smiling a little at their enthusiasm. Unlike the day before, there were no questions asked – only excitement. We made our way to the police car, shuffling through the crowd.
“Loriel!” A magazine was shoved into my hand as I opened the door to the patrol car. I paused, looking down at the picture. It was of me and Givanni after the interview. My face was flushed with raw emotion, and Givanni’s concern for me creased deep into his perfect features. The way he held me, curved gently around me—was perfect. It felt too personal, this moment they’d plastered across the city. With a glance back at the jubilant reporter, I realized his expression had changed as well.
Leaning forward quickly, he guided me into the police car and our eyes locked. “Attention is what we want. Keeping you alive, remember?”
I did remember him. The cameraman who’d taken the picture—but he was also someone else. “Jeremy?” He caught Givanni’s eyes as well, and I watched Givanni flinch in reaction. For a second they were still, and then piling in behind me Givanni pulled the door closed.
Commotion remained, loud and chaotic, shouts and laughter rising up as we started down the drive. But he stood in the middle of it all, watching us with awareness, and ducked into the crowd as soon as we hit pavement.
Unsure of what I should say, I studied Givanni’s surprised face. He was as bewildered as me, looking at the police officer and back—and remaining silent. I could see him working things over in his head until finally, I turned to the window. Jeremy was alive. But what did that mean?
“To Shellbrook I assume?” The officer smiled back at us.
“No,” Givanni’s stern voice caught me off guard. He cleared his throat.“We—didn’t get a chance to have breakfast. If you could drop us off at the diner on 10th? That would be great.” Brannon no doubt heard the lie in his words, but after a brief glance in the mirror, he nodded his head. Givanni was successfully maneuvering his face out of my view, or I would have gotten something from him. Instead, we sat silently with the curious police officer glancing at us in his rear view mirror. The sun had risen enough in the sky to baste its golden tones across the landscape—It was a day to be on the coastline. I wished it the second the thought crossed my mind. Sinking my toes into the sand with Givanni was something I hadn’t done enough of. It didn’t count if one of us was in mortal peril. We had to enjoy it. Sometime soon.
We left the patrol car in the same quiet as before, with me trying to throw in enough pleasantries to smooth over the tension. “Thanks again,” I beamed, smiling so falsely that my face dropped the second I turned away.
“Tell me what’s going on.” I started, only having waited until the car left the curb. Givanni’s face told me nothing, except the fact that he was upset. I could see it in the pull of his lips, and the way his eyes were smoothed of any emotion.
He opened his clenched palm to show a scrap of paper with diner on 10th scrawled across it. “Jeremy passed this to me,” he said, looking up at the storefront sign above us.
The diner as he had called it, was considerably more elegant than the term. A tuxedo-clad young man lifted his eyebrows at Givanni, who only nodded his head. My eyes flicked back and forth between them. Leading us to a private room, the young man didn’t offer a menu and hardly looked at us, closing the doors behind him. I turned to Givanni with a huff. “Now can you talk to me?” I whispered, glancing out the window to the view beyond. The valley spread out below. Rows of houses and businesses crowded every last inch. From a height it was beautiful.
“What do you know about Jeremy?” Givanni asked suddenly, stopping us in our tracks.
I thought back to the Jeremy I remembered. Idealistic and hardworking… and obviously a complete fake. “I didn’t know Jeremy,” My head shook as I spoke. What a waste. I had assumed I knew everything about him based on the first few minutes of us meeting, but clearly, he had more going on than I had presumed. He had fooled me with hardly any effort. “Why would he fake his death?” My eyes met Givanni’s, widened with the memory that still haunted me.
“Because.”
I gasped, jumping from my chair and whipping around. Jeremy stepped out from a corner of the room. “Because when you’re dead they can’t chase you anymore. They can’t ruin your life when it’s already gone. Suddenly you’re invisible. Able to go anywhere and do anything—no one cares about you after you’re dead.”
The young, caring man I remembered was not even a shadow of this one. I couldn’t fi
nd a shred of resemblance. Coldness had settled in his eyes, deep and rigid. “So why are you trying to help us?” I asked. “That was you with the camera. I didn’t realize it then, but I know it now.”
He nodded, beginning a slow pace and holding his hands behind his back. Givanni held my arm, pulling me back and stepping his feet out. I felt my hands shake at the thought of a confrontation in this small room.
“I’m helping you because otherwise, you would be dead. And being actually dead, I’m sure, isn’t as fun as this.” He winked, and my lip twisted upward a pinch. It didn’t sound like he was threatening us, but his posture said otherwise.
“Tell us why you’re here,” Givanni demanded, leaving the pleasantries.
Jeremy stopped his pacing and squared his shoulders. “Of course. I’ll tell you why I’m here. It’s just difficult to continue when I see it in her eyes—that shred of respect and hope. She thinks she knows who I am, and I wish I was that man.” Jeremy froze, staring at me with an empty expression. “But I’m not.”
I swallowed, taking advantage of his complete attention. “So why were you working for Manwell?”
He snorted, shaking his head so that his unkempt hair whipped to the side. “I never worked for Manwell.” His eyes captured mine. “I worked for Mr. Dram,” He took a step forward. “And Fullmer,” Another step. “And Culz.”
Honest surprise etched itself across my face as I realized how fully I had been deceived
“And Mr. Faven,” he continued, “or Cal, as you knew him.”
I felt my face flush completely, and Givanni's head turned in my direction. It was all connected. Jeremy continued, but this time it sounded like an apology. “We were in very different careers, but each of us was misled in one way or another by the Italians. Our goal was the same—to find a way to separate ourselves from their grip. Living life on the edge of threat after threat is no life, Miss Lane.”
“It’s Loriel, Jeremy. My name is Loriel. It’s what you always called me before—you know, back when you were masquerading as a decent man.” My eyes bored into him. “So why are you helping now? Why do you care? Cal tried to kill me, and you were working with him all along!”
“I cared even then Loriel. Their plans were as much a surprise to me as they were to you. Obviously, they wanted information quickly. My death is real to them as well. It was my only way out, and I knew that.” He sighed. “While we were united in finding a way out, that was our only connection. I didn’t know they were going to threaten you…” He let his thoughts hang for a moment, looking at me with sheer devastation on his features. “And had I known Cal was planning on meeting you, I would have stopped it.”
Something in the way he spoke had me finally feeling sympathy. Even when I didn’t want to welcome it, it came. Neither of them knew what had happened that day, but they knew Cal had been alone with me in Givanni’s home. That he had threatened me. I looked from one face to the next, and while it was intensely radiating from Givanni, I could see it in both of them—the desire to protect.
“I’ve spoken with Boswik.” Jeremy’s voice was quiet, and although he glanced at me continually, he spoke to Givanni. “He agrees that you need to stay in the spotlight, but that won’t last long.”
“No, it won’t,” Givanni agreed comfortably. “We need to stabilize things—make them think they’ve won. We need to get them off our backs.”
“Enter an agreement…”
“What?” I gawked, looking at Jeremy like he was spouting sonnets.
“Isn’t that what they’ve wanted from you?” He spoke to Givanni, ignoring my outburst, and I felt my blood simmer. I wasn’t good at being ignored. “Sign an agreement and give yourself some time. Keep up their relations with Shellbrook, while we devise a way out.” Givanni looked like he had something rotten in his mouth, but he remained silent long enough for me to lose my patience.
“Are you crazy?” I glared at Jeremy, sure Givanni would be agreeing with me at any moment. “After what we’ve been through?”
“Yes.” He answered, his eyes daring me to interrupt again. “Especially after what you’ve been through. Of course you would quit fighting. They’ve almost killed every one of you, and your little band has been dissolved.”
Their conversation continued, with me listening as if through heavy fog. A fog that I assumed would lift with time. It was easier to believe we were speaking to a Jeremy impersonator than to think that Givanni would again team with the very organization that had caused so much destruction in his life, and in the world.
We soon left the diner on 10th, Jeremy slinking into the shadows like the corpse he was. I hadn’t said a word since my objection to their plans. But aside from a vague feeling of being disoriented, I wasn’t upset. I didn’t feel much of anything. The man beside me I trusted—loved with every ounce of strength in my being. It was almost something I couldn’t control, and no matter what he decided to do, it wouldn’t change.
I mulled over their conversation, knowing Boswik would have to confirm, in person, everything Jeremy had said. That was their stipulation. He would find us soon, I was sure. It was frustrating how perfectly everything seemed to be working out. We had a plan from Hell, and here it was going as smooth as velvet.
After a few blocks, it became apparent that we should have hailed a cab. Crowds formed around us wherever we went, sometimes taking pictures, and other times simply whispering about us and catching glances. When I finally did hail for a cab, I wasn’t surprised when there were none. It just seemed to be my luck. Turning back to an energetic bunch of people, I hoped to give them a carefree smile, even though it was hard to tell what my face was doing. But a few smiled back, and I took that as a good sign.
With a quick squeal of tires, a car pulled to the curb behind me. But, instead of a cab, it was a sleek black sedan. I stepped back. The window lowered enough for us to see Boswik, and then it was up again. When the door opened Givanni nodded at me, smiling for another click from someone’s camera. I wished that I could talk to him—straighten out my thoughts without all the attention on us.
But instead, I threw my arms around Givanni. Squeals of surprise sounded around us. Clapping, whistling, camera clicks. I pressed my lips to his ear. “Promise me this will work.” His arms cinched around me securely and he turned his head, kissing me hard and quick.
I took that as a yes and stepped into the car hoping that it wouldn’t be long until we could return to a normal kind of life. But watching the crazed twenty-somethings scream my name, I wasn’t so sure.
Chapter 26
It was surreal—I could hardly believe I was back. The clear air outside lured me in, and I gazed at the dunes beyond. Being in my little house should have felt like it always had. Comfortable, safe. But now, even with Givanni waiting outside, my hands shook as I searched through my bathroom drawer.
We had a scheduled meeting with Boswik and it seemed simple enough. Meet at the address given at 5 pm. It was a city central location, so nothing to worry about there, but still my heart thrummed. I couldn’t imagine just signing an ordinary document and suddenly stilling the constant threat we had been under.
“So, I heard from Zoe this morning,” Givanni spoke from the living room, most likely decoding my complete silence.
I cleared my throat. “Yeah?” the voice that came from my lips sounded fully at ease, even a little excited.
Givanni, encouraged, continued with more energy. “She heard from Enrica and Jordyn. I guess they let my family know everything was okay.” I nodded to myself in the mirror as I whisked mascara onto my honey brown eyelashes. “I’ll be going out to visit them after this…” Givanni’s voice faded away prematurely, and I stopped with my hand halfway to the counter. He sounded like he’d meant to say more.
Immediately I went through the two scenarios I cared about—one where he invited me with him… and one where he didn’t. I knew his feelings about us, without a doubt. So that wasn’t what worried me. The thing I wasn’t so sure about w
as what his family thought.
I fidgeted a little, smoothing a rose-tinted gloss over my lips. The thought of them thinking badly of me was miserable. It was hard to imagine their boisterous, accepting energy ever turning to anything else, especially when it came to Zoe. She had to know how helpless I’d been to change the course of the last week. I stared back at the mirror for a moment, speculating. But it wasn’t the type of question that I’d yell through a bathroom door. So I left to join Givanni.
He had his back to me, staring out the patio doors at the wind pushing its way through the dunes. Tufts of slender grass swayed gracefully with the breeze. I stood next to him, feeling his gaze turn to me before again resting outside.
“Everything here reminds me of you,” he said, turning to me as he continued. “It used to feel like any other house. Comfortable, nice... but nothing holding me to it.” He traced a hand lightly down my cheek and trailed his fingers through the waves still dominating my hair. “But if we could stay here, safe from everything hunting us. To live a normal life with you would be the most incredible thing I can imagine.”
My apprehension didn’t stop a ridiculous grin from taking over my face. I couldn’t help it—he was reading my mind. But what he talked about, and what real life had to offer us, were very different. We couldn’t expect to live life like we did before all of this. I studied my toes for a minute, trying to find a way to say what was on my mind without sounding unaffected. His words did affect me—so much that my heart was getting carried away and my brain couldn’t care less what I wanted to figure out.
“I don’t know if that’s possible for us,” I started, digging one foot in the rug. “We live on an entirely different planet now. One that most people don’t believe exists. It would…” With one look at his face, I stopped, panic rising up instantly. He wasn’t following me, or maybe he wasn’t even listening. But whatever was causing the anguish on his face had to have been my fault. I tried to recover, but the stuttering that came from my mouth never developed into a sentence.