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.
I’m absolutely confounded by his simple question. These two definitely don’t know who they’re up against.
“Luca,” I answer, without looking away, and I spot a silver cross pendant that I’ve seen before around his neck. The necklace was tucked in his collar but falls out as he leans in more.
“Who are you to Fallon Michaels?”
Fallon? I thought this was Syndicate related. Why the interest in Fallon? “Who the fuck are you?” I counter furiously through my ragged breaths.
“That’s what I’m wondering about you. You’re more than an entrepreneur, DeMiliano.”
So it is Syndicate related but also tied to Fallon.
Fucking great!
I grin and stay silent just to taunt him a little, and it works. Through his tight mask, I can see his jaw clenching in irritation. Then they start again. He pours water onto my face, over my breathing passages, triggering the almost immediate gag reflex for a second time. This time they stop sooner and both leave my side. In my bewildered and unbalanced state, I see them standing in the doorway, whispering frenziedly. I’m coughing constantly, my throat is killing me, and my bones ache to the core. I suppress the cough long enough to eavesdrop on their last words.
“…go now.”
They disappear from the doorway, and I breathe a sigh of relief that the horrendous torture I just experienced has ended. I force myself to keep my eyes open to try to stay as alert as possible. I’ve stopped struggling against the restraints because the skin on my wrists is broken, and I can feel the blood trickling down my hands.
Adriano will find me soon. Although I have no idea what time it is or how long I was unconscious when they took me, I need to stay positive.
These men weren’t smart enough to confiscate and destroy my phone, and I pressed ‘call’ before I let it slip back into my pocket in the garage, so I’m hoping Adriano heard that I was taken and is tracking my phone.
I hea
r the footsteps of several men approaching.
Fuck, don’t let them be coming back because I’ll go crazy after a third round.
A shadow holding a gun blocks the doorway and closes the distance while scanning the room quickly. “Luca, fuck!” Adriano instantly removes the shackles as Damian enters the room.
“Everything’s clear,” Damian tells Adriano, and they flank me to help me up.
“Adriano.” I cover my mouth with my fist while still coughing, and I’m extremely exhausted. “Who are they?”
“I don’t know; two men escaped. My priority was to get to you first.”
I nod, still unable to control my irregular breathing. “Get me out of here. Where is here by the way?”
“Industrial area outside The Loop,” Adriano replies.
“How long was I gone?”
“Three hours. It’s around eight,” he informs me.
“Take me home and call Doc.”
***
The doctor is already at The Blackhall when Adriano and I arrive. Damian stayed behind at the industrial area to do some investigating.
As I lie on my back on the couch, the doctor examines me.
“Open.” He directs his light down my throat after I open my mouth. “What did they do, Luca?”
“Waterboarding.”
Doc flinches. “Fuck, that’s torture that often traumatizes victims for years.”
That’s true, but we’re trained to have a powerful mind. “It won’t affect me.”
“Hopefully not, but if you start to experience irrational fears, you have to tell me,” he orders in his kind, professional tone.
“I will.”
“As far as I can see without performing a scan, you’re fine. Here’s some Ibuprofen for the sore muscles you’re going to have.”
“Thank god they didn’t have time for a third round because that would’ve flipped me. I could barely handle it twice.” I turn my head to Adriano who’s standing in front of the window.
Exhaustion clouds his face. “How could they’ve captured you so easily, Luca?”
“I wasn’t drinking,” I defend to my friend and sit up as Doc places his materials back in his leather bag. “This was all planned by Collopy, I think. I happened to run into Fallon today, and she told me that Collopy is blackmailing her. Thanks,” I say to the doctor when he hands me Arnica cream, which works like magic to reduce bruising and swelling within hours, for my wrists.
Adriano’s eyes narrow in doubt.
“I was taking your advice,” I comment dryly. “I ran into her when Brenda and I were about to leave— Fuck! I need to check my phone.” I suddenly remember that I was expecting a call from James, so I pull my phone out of my pocket and listen to a voicemail from David.
“Michaels has been attacked and is in the hospital. I followed her from work to that coffee shop where she met you, then she went home. I saw the woman you’re looking for, Collopy, who was obviously in pain, leave the apartment building five minutes later and then I went in. Fallon’s door was open, she was unconscious, and I think she has a broken nose. I said I was the neighbor when I called the ambulance. Where are you? I don’t have another number to contact in case of this kind of emergency.”
I leap up from the couch. “Fallon was attacked by Collopy. She’s in the hospital. I…I have to go.”
Dr. Calderone stops me by my arm. “I’ll drive you. I have to go to the hospital anyway.”
I point my finger to Adriano. “Find Kelli Ann Collopy!”
***
My shoes click on the grey floor as I approach her bed. She’s looks so vulnerable lying in a hospital bed.
Ti ho deluso. I failed you.
If I hadn’t been so busy fighting my emotions toward her, she would’ve been with me tonight. I swallow back the brick stuck in my throat as I focus on her bruised face. Her nose is swollen, and the skin is discolored. A smudge of dried blood is on her nose, so I wet a cloth under the faucet of the sink in the corner of the room and gently wipe it away.
I sit next to Fallon and stare at her tainted bruises while she’s hooked to an IV and suppress a desperate need to punch the wall repeatedly, wishing it was Kelli Ann’s fucking face.
Doc joins me and speaks while he reads her chart. “Her medicine will keep her asleep for a couple of hours.” He lifts a page. “No broken nose, no permanent damage, but she has a minor head injury.”
I trace my fingers over hers. “Can you take her over as a patient?”
“Already did that.”
“Thanks, Doc. Keep me updated if there’s any change in her condition.”
“No problem. You need to rest too, Luca. Give your system time to heal after the shock of waterboarding, which can have negative long-term effects. And Fallon’s parents have been called, they should arrive soon.”
The thought of someone hurting her has always made me want to go on a rampage. And now that I’ve seen how she’s been hurt, I’m ready to declare an all-out war against the police department. I caress her hair and press my lips softly to her forehead. “I’m going home just for tonight. Adriano is going to send a soldier to keep guard.”
CHAPTER 16
Fallon
I’m stuck, surrounded by blackness, and a deplorable sense of foreboding has me crying. There is a need building in me to get out, but something hinders me from standing up.
A loud crash.
Someone is sniffing quietly.
“Elise, I’m worried about her. I told you something was going on. She’s been too distant the last few months. Even with Teagan; she barely speaks to Fallon.”
“When she wakes up, you can ask her everything. But, Noah, don’t pound her with questions.”
I open my eyes to a bright white and blue room and my parents sitting beside the bed
My mother immediately leans toward me and covers my hand with hers. “Sweetie.”
“Mom,” I croak out because my throat is too dry. “What happened?” I feel as if I’m in a fog and can’t quite discern whether I’m in pain or not. Last thing I remember is fighting with Collopy in my apartment.
My dad caresses my forehead. “Your neighbor found you in the living room, Fallon. Your door was open. You were attacked; do you remember?”
I nod but stop the movement instantly when a sharp pain cuts through my head, and I shut my eyes.
My mother’s panicked voice sounds far away. “Sweetie? Fallon?”
Feet are shuffling.
I want Luca.
“Miss Michaels, please open your eyes,” an unfamiliar voice coaxes me gently, and I obey.
“Welcome back.” A tall doctor in his white coat and with extremely grey hair greets me as he opens my chart. “How are we feeling this morning?”
My face and head hurt. I bring my hand to my nose and wince from the throbbing soreness. “What day is it? How long have I been out?”
He reads the chart. “Just one night.”
My mother, who has a tendency to want every answer instantly, interjects. “Tell him how you’re feeling, Fallon.”
“My head, throat, and face hurt, especially my nose.” I try to sit up, and my father comes to my aid, propping another pillow behind my back.
The doctor’s nametag reads ‘Dr. Calderone’, and my eyes widen because Calderone is James’ surname, Luca’s boss. The doctor notices my reaction to his name and quickly continues.
“The pain will subside soon. I had to insert an oral airway to facilitate suctioning because you were found unconscious; that’s why your throat might feel sore. And I have you hooked to the IV for fluids and to administer your pain medications. You don’t have a nasal fracture, but you do have a mild head injury. We’ve ruled out a neck injury, but I would like to keep you here for a couple of hours. If you experience repeated vomiting, worsening headache, dizziness, excessive slurred speech, unsteady walk, or weakness or numbness in your arms or legs, or if signs of basilar skull fracture develop, you’ll have to stay overnight.”
&nbs
p; “Okay.” I sigh, relieved that I have only minor injuries.
The doctor addresses my parents. “Could I examine her alone for a moment?”
My mother nods while my father’s eyes thin. My father has been disturbingly silent. “We’ll be right outside,” he says to me after placing a soft kiss on my forehead, and he follows my mother out.
As soon as the door closes, Calderone informs me, “Fallon, I’m a friend of Luca’s. I’m his doctor. You do know what I mean, right?”
“Yes.” He’s a Syndicate doctor. He’s Mafia, Cosa Nostra. They’re everywhere among us ‘normal’ people apparently.
“You’ll be fine. I’m only keeping you here because Luca wants you to be protected today and not home alone.”
“But I won’t be home alone because my parents are here. I really don’t want to stay if I’m physically fine and can recuperate at home.”
He repeats, “You need to stay here and get rid of your parents.”
“Why?”
“I only receive orders, Fallon. I can’t answer all of your questions.”
“Can I call him?”
“By all means.” He hands me his phone.
Of course I still know Luca’s number by heart, and he answers immediately, “Yes.”
“Luca, it’s me.”
He lets out a deep sigh. “I’m glad you called. I suppose you talked to the doctor?”
“I did; he’s right here. Who is he?” I have to be certain that I can trust this doctor before continuing the call.
“He’s part of the Syndicate only as our doctor and is not technically a member. He’s James’ brother and only treats the highest ranking men of the Chicago Syndicate: James, Salvatore, Adriano, and me. I trust him wholeheartedly; he’s a good guy. We can’t go to the hospital when we have bullet wounds or anything else because hospitals are obligated to report it, and that’s why we have our personal doctor handling all our injuries. He’s legal and works for the hospital full time. Tell me how you feel?”
“Like shit.” I sniff loudly in an unladylike manner.
For Luca (Chicago Syndicate Book 2) Page 10