by Soraya Naomi
CHAPTER 41
Luca
On Tuesday night, Adriano and I are on our way to pay a visit to our associate, Fallon’s boss, Alex, at his apartment in the Loop.
“You have the stuff?” I ask Adriano, who’s in the passenger seat next to me.
He shows me a tiny plastic bag filled with white powder as confirmation before I park my car blocks away from Alex’s condo, and then we walk back to use the rear entrance of the glass high-rise.
“Where are the cameras?” I question.
Adriano signals to our upper left; he scouted the place this morning. “There’s a blind corner. Follow me.” And he leads the way into the apartment complex while dodging the cameras. It’s almost midnight and dead quiet in the building, yet we still have to take the stairs to the fifteenth floor to evade the reception area by the elevators.
Alex’s apartment is the first door to the right. Adriano hands me a pair of latex gloves, and I block the peephole with one hand before knocking.
Footsteps approach on the other side of the door, and it opens.
Rapidly, I push the door open wider, and Alex staggers back. “What the—”
I cover his mouth with my hand, spinning him around by his arm in one swift action as Adriano steps in and closes the door quietly.
“Alex, how are you?” Adriano greets.
While Alex struggles in my hold, I twist his arm behind his back and shove him forward into his living room, throwing him onto his black suede recliner as I pull out my gun from the back of my pants where it’s hidden beneath my suit jacket.
“Tell me, did you think I wouldn’t find out that you threatened Fallon?” I remark, eyeing my piece.
Alex rises to his feet and jumps over the back of the recliner to be met with Adriano’s handgun pointed in his face.
“Down, boy,” Adriano commands, taunting.
Raising his hands in surrender, Alex stays rooted. “Listen. This has become...I-It’s gotten out of hand,” he stutters nervously.
“Sit. Down,” Adriano repeats with his finger on the trigger.
Alex’s gaze shifts from me to Adriano, and he edges sideways to bolt to his front door, but Adriano blocks his path, overpowering him effortlessly and pushing him face down on the sofa next to the recliner with the end of his barrel against Alex’s neck.
“Be careful. I don’t want any marks or bruises on him,” I warn since that’s not in line with our plan.
“Are you going to sit? I brought your favorite opiate,” Adriano says to Alex.
But I motion for Adriano to back off a little while Alex catches his breath, and Adriano yanks him up again by his collar.
“Last time. Sit down,” Adriano orders impatiently.
Finally, Alex obeys and takes a seat on the sofa.
“Alex, if it’s gotten out of hand, then let’s talk. Maybe we can make an arrangement.” I slide onto the glass coffee table in front of him and tuck my Smith & Wesson back into my waistband. “I think we need a drink.”
Alex’s eyes narrow, and he doesn’t twitch a muscle.
“Where’s your liquor?” I inquire.
Alex keeps glancing warily between Adriano and me before answering without a stutter, “Bar. Next to the kitchen.” He regards Adriano, who disappears into the kitchen to prepare our drinks and, as planned, spike Alex’s with heroine.
While we wait, I snap my fingers to get Alex’s attention. “I want to have a talk.”
“Threatening Fallon was Leggia’s idea. I had no say in it, Luca,” he confesses.
“What was your or Leggia’s plan?”
“I had no plan; it was all Leggia. He cut off my drug supply, and I couldn’t get anything anywhere. I needed my fix,” he answers, spoken like a true junkie.
Adriano returns and hands a drink to Alex, who downs it in one gulp. Then Adriano takes the empty glass and leaves to get Alex another one.
“What did he want you to do?” I probe.
“Scare her. He never gave details, but he told me to wait until I saw you with her and then make it seem like I wanted information from her, information about you.”
“What did he offer you in return?”
“My fix and to pay off my debt to the Chicago Syndicate. I was never going to hurt her. Leggia was pressuring me into badgering Fallon. He kind of hates you.”
“You could’ve talked to us and avoided all of this,” I lie.
“Could I have? I was screwed either way. I know how you guys work. Leggia was supposed to protect me. Looks like I bet on the wrong horse.” He coughs like an old man after finishing his second drink from Adriano. “Is Fallon with you? Leggia told me to call her in sick. She hasn’t been at work in two days.”
I was right. Leggia is just using everyone to cause problems between James and me in order to break our Syndicate. Alex, Fallon, Danny; they’re all collateral damage to Leggia. Alex did bet on the wrong person and will now pay with his life.
For a long time, I watch Alex, hating to be the one to end it. But my rage hits me in full force when I imagine Fallon’s fear over what Leggia set in motion with Alex’s help.
Adriano offers me a drink, and I take a small sip as he faces Alex.
“I need a fix. You want one too?” Adriano asks him and places a tablespoon, syringe, and a belt on the table.
“I didn’t know you guys used your own drugs?” Alex comments, surprised.
“We don’t,” we say in unison as I leap up and hold down Alex while Adriano rolls up Alex’s sleeve and tightens the belt around his right arm.
“No!” Alex objects uselessly.
In reaction, Adriano presses his knee on Alex’s thigh, making him grunt in pain, but I smother his cries with my gloved hand. Smoothly, Adriano flips open his gold lighter under the spoon filled with a lethal dose of heroin, fills the syringe, and taps Alex’s vein. He injects the heroin into Alex’s arm, and it rushes into his veins, relaxing him. Mingling with the alcoholic drinks that were also filled with his drug, he’s unconscious within seconds.
After that, Adriano sets up the scene methodically. The syringe is thrown onto the table, and the belt is left half undone around Alex’s arm.
“Should we wait for him to stop breathing?” He pockets the plastic bag in which we brought the heroin.
When a person overdoses on heroin, he falls asleep and his respiratory system will eventually shut down. Essentially, Alex’s body will forget to breathe because Adriano injected a lethal amount. Combine that with the heroin spiked in his drink and Alex won’t last long; he’ll never live through the night.
“No, we can go,” I answer.
Carefully, I open the door to make sure the hall is clear. We head back down and out into the warm summer night air so that I can get back to what will be my last night with Fallon.
For a man who never gives second chances, I can’t stop putting her welfare above all else. For her, I’m breaking rule after rule. I’m taking too many risks. Everything I do is for Fallon. She’s the woman I never knew I was searching for. She’s helped me find what I didn’t know I’d lost. She’s given me a sense of calm with just her presence and touch. She allows me to just be.
So regardless of the current rift between us, I can’t help but replay our happy memories while I speed back to headquarters.
I love it when Fallon reads and I can stroke her hair while her head rests in my lap. My legs are stretched out, feet on the coffee table, and as I point the remote at the TV, I glance at her reader and read a few racy lines.
“What are you reading, dolcezza?” I ask with a perked brow, smiling down at her, content to have a quiet night with Fallon at her apartment.
She looks up with a roguish, yet innocent, expression. “Depends on what you just read.”
Slowly, I put the remote down and place the reader, which needs to be handled with utmost care, or else she’ll have a fit, on the table and stare at her full, pink lips as I search for bare skin to touch under the hem of her shirt. Skimming my palm do
wn, I push Fallon’s sweatpants off her hip slightly, exposing more of her warm body that always manages to inflame my need for her, and grip her hip, pulling out from under Fallon and lying on top with my knee nudging her legs apart. Her back bows, and I take the opportunity to forcefully slide my palm inside her panties. She groans when I knead the curve of her ass and trace my middle finger over her entrance as I grind into her.
“Is that what you like?” I growl, smiling as I lock eyes with her. “You want me to call you a dirty little sl—”
“No, don’t,” she warns around a smirk.
Her soft moans have me pushing my full mast hard-on against her center.
“Just fuck me,” she breathes in that sultry voice of hers.
“I love it when you talk semi-dirty to me.” I grin down at her. Only she can make me feel aroused as hell, joyful, and peaceful simultaneously.
Her lovely face conveys a happy smile when I graze my lips over hers and dip my tongue between them, claiming her. And the hurried groping and grinding shifts to slow motion. Craving to give her this gentle side of me, I taste every inch of her mouth as she melts in my arms while I stroke the curve of her hip, up and down in lazy trails. I pull back to see her eyelids flutter open with a look of adoration that cements her into my heart forever. She’s dug her way into my cold soul, warming it with the pleasure of her body and the comfort of her mind. Her being has given my restless soul a home.
“Ti amo.” I love you.
And I cover her lips again. This time ravenous to be inside her, my home. Rising from the couch, I pick Fallon up by her waist and throw her over my shoulder. She shrieks in surprise and delight as I swat her round ass and hurry us to the bedroom.
Instead of ravaging her, I take my time. Peeling the thin layer of fabric off her luscious body, I kiss and lick every surface of satin skin until her moans fill my ears. And as I settle on top of Fallon, pushing inside her, I palm her face with both hands and watch as if I’m afraid she’ll disappear at any moment, memorizing the shape of her full lips when she climbs to release.
It was one of the few times I made love to Fallon, yet I wish I would’ve done it more often.
CHAPTER 42
Fallon
The black sky is illuminated by a million stars on this Tuesday night. It’s impossible for me to determine what time it is, but it’s definitely late.
I squeeze my hands together in apprehension as someone fumbles with the lock. I’m silently praying it’s Camilla and not Luca returning to his room, because if it’s Luca, I’m stuck here for another night. And another night of stressing about when the trade will take place, or what could happen to me until then, is too much for me to deal with. But fortunately, I’m greeted by Camilla, which greatly relieves some of my tension.
“I got a key,” she announces hesitantly, yet like she’s surprised that she actually did it, as she dangles a device from her finger.
“How did you get it? Is Luca still gone?” I’m immediately on alert.
“Yes, both Adriano and Luca are away. I had to take a big risk to steal Damian’s keys. He’s passed out in the strip club. There’s one guard at the front door, so we can only slip into the car when he’s on his break; the car is parked in the driveway.”
“You thought of everything,” I muse aloud.
“Well, they were wrong to think I’m some delicate flower. Let’s hurry.” She gives me a once-over and stops at my bare feet. “Where are your shoes?”
“I don’t have any,” I admit, and wearing only Luca’s t-shirt and boxers, I urge her to start moving. “Come on.”
The same trepidation I felt this morning when I fled this room is swimming to the surface. Nevertheless, I charge out of the room with Camilla, who precedes the way through the dark hall at a quick pace.
“Almost everyone’s gone,” she murmurs.
The beating of my heart accelerates from the adrenaline rush as we sneak downstairs and approach the corner to enter the hall leading to the first staircase.
When Camilla peeks around the corner and then back to me, unease creeps across her expression. “We have to go to the middle of this hall and run downstairs. At the last step, we’ll turn left and then go straight ahead to the back door in the kitchen, which is unlocked. You’ve got to stay close behind me, okay?”
I nod my head swiftly as we catch each other’s worried eyes. This is our window of opportunity. The urgency to act now, and fast, is pressing since Luca, Adriano, or someone else could walk into the house at any moment.
Camilla scans the hall one more time and races ahead of me. “Let’s go.”
The paintings hanging on the walls pass me by in a blur while my feet stick to the wooden floor on this warm summer night. To decrease the amount of noise my feet are creating, I run on my tiptoes. One wrong move and I could break my foot, but we’re almost at the staircase.
As soon as Camilla can glance over the banister to make sure the foyer is empty, she gestures to me that we’re still safe.
I hurriedly follow her down the flight of stairs. When I reach the last step, I grab the banister to take a sharp U-turn toward the kitchen, but I slip, landing hard on my flat palms and bare knees on the marble tiles. The wounds on my knees start to bleed and burn in pain, and unfortunately, I’m not able to stifle my cry when I fall, so I whip my head around to see if anyone’s coming into the foyer, and I push back up just as quickly as I fell. Stumbling as I rise, I sprint straight ahead toward the kitchen.
Camilla’s holding the door open and frantically waves me over. “Hurry!” she whisper-shouts right before I go through it and slouch forward with my palms on my upper thighs to catch my breath in the middle of the massive, state-of-the-art kitchen.
Camilla moves toward the back door and leans her shoulder into it, yet it barely opens, so I shove with all my weight as well. It’s ridiculously heavy, and I grunt as my shoulder hits its cold surface.
Once we finally get the door open, the outside air flows into my lungs, and for the first time in four days, I feel the natural caress of the cooling summer wind on my cheeks. Shuddering from anxiety, I suck in the night air to steady my nerves.
We’re outside!
Now we have to get to the car. We grimace at each other when the kitchen door creaks loudly as it closes and the porch light flicks on, detecting our movement.
Camilla rushes to the side of the house and rounds the planted hedges leading to the front. Going after her, I dive off the porch onto the dry grass and hunch down next to her where we wait until the light flicks off.
For a moment, my entire vision goes black as it tries to adjust to the dark while not a sound but the blowing of the wind passes my ears. Then Camilla motions forward with her hand and we inch toward the driveway.
She peers around the corner but retreats immediately. “The guard’s still standing at the front entrance. He’s going to take a break and go inside the house soon, so we’ll have to wait.”
I look past her to the curved driveway and spot three parked cars. “Which car?”
She turns the device that she’s been clutching in her hand. “The white convertible.”
But as the device hangs off the key chain, it clinks in the stillness of the night, and the guard’s gaze shoots toward me. So I rear back instantly, and Camilla tightly grips the device again as our eyes widen in horror, and I mouth, “Guard heard.”
I don’t dare to look again, afraid that if I do, he’ll be staring straight back at me. And Camilla grabs my hand, dragging me a few feet back and pointing toward the hedge under a rounded window with drawn curtains, before she plows forward and through the hedge, thick with leaves, and hides.
The dry earth sneaks between my toes as I trail Camilla. Branches scrape and cut open the bare skin on my arms and legs, but I grit my teeth and wedge myself against her so that we’re huddled together behind the hedge in a tiny open space against the wall with only darkness surrounding us.
Camilla loses her balance and grips my th
igh, forcing me to plant my fingers in front of me to keep us still and quiet. My heart’s pounding in my chest so loudly that I’m afraid it can be heard in the deafening silence. A blur of light comes into our line of vision and footsteps approach. The light shines through the leaves, coming closer to exposing Camilla and me.
Oh my god, please don’t let him see us.
The worst time for anyone who’s trying to get away with something is that second before you think you’re going to be discovered; that second feels like hours. However, a moment before we would’ve been exposed, another sound coming from the driveway diverts the guard’s attention. And when the aim of his light suddenly, miraculously, redirects, I let out the breath I’ve been adamantly forcing myself to keep inside in order to maintain some semblance of rational thought, even through my constant trail of fear.
All the while, Camilla and I stay rooted until we can’t hear the guard’s steps anymore, and then we crawl out of the hedge, denying ourselves any time to think to avoid allowing our fear to take control of our actions.
Camilla checks the front and swivels around. “He’s gone. We have to go now.” And she hits the button on the device to unlock the car.
The convertible beeps while Camilla and I are already running toward it, the gravel cutting painfully into the soles of my feet. Jerking open the car door, Camilla sweeps inside and starts the engine as I rush to get into the passenger seat after checking the front entrance and spying no guard or movement.
“Go!” I insist.
As Camilla steers left and out of the driveway, the house shrinks in the rearview mirror and ultimately disappears as she accelerates when we hit the main road.
“Oh, shit!” Camilla says, blowing out a sigh. Full of tension, she maneuvers the car anxiously through the deserted area.
“How long until we reach the first gas station?” I ask, my chest heaving.
“Twenty, twenty-five minutes.” She wipes the glistening sweat from her forehead.
“What are we going to do? Call the police? Go straight to the Loop or home? According to Luca, the Syndicate is also part of the police force. I have no idea if that’s true or not.”