I giggle and direct him toward the corner of the shop dedicated to slightly more masculine scents like sandalwood, cedar, and evergreen. I realize I’m not quite sure how to proceed. Usually I have to make some kind of eloquent sales pitch, going through the motions of giving free samples, gingerly soaping and rinsing a customer’s hands while describing the various benefits and quirks of our homemade products.
“So, do you want to just kind of take some of everything or…?” I question.
“No, no. I want the full spiel. I want some testers and samples. Let’s do this,” Luca says brightly. I can’t help but grin. He seems like such a serious guy, it’s amazing to see how relaxed and whimsical he can actually be.
So we spend the next forty-five minutes testing out a ton of different scents and products in the sink while I explain how, every month, I spend a whole weekend in the back kitchen creating all these soaps, bath bombs, and everything else. It’s a long, back-breaking process, but it’s also really fun and relaxing in some ways. I get to zone out and listen to my favorite music while I play mad scientist, mixing essential oils and playing with new combinations. My mom taught me everything, which she learned from a summer of soap-making classes over a decade ago, back when life was easy and she was just a bored housewife looking for a new hobby. Long before this became the one business endeavor keeping us afloat. Barely.
And it’s fun today, too, washing Luca’s strong, scarred hands in the sink, the two of us leaning close together, so close I can feel the masculine heat coming from his powerful body. We flirt shamelessly throughout the whole process, and by the time we’re done, we’ve moved from the men’s section and outward, so that his basket is also filled with rose- and lavender-scented products, too.
“So, you’re really gonna use this stuff? You’re gonna squeeze your massive body into a little bathtub and take a sugar-cookie-scented bubble bath?” I ask him, giggling.
He gives me a wink. “Maybe I will. Or maybe I’ll just save all that stuff so that you can use it when you stay over at my place. Gotta make my bathroom more lady-friendly, of course.”
I can feel myself blushing, and I look away. But Luca takes me gently by the chin and turns me back to face him before leaning down and kissing me softly. A tingling warmth shoots all the way down my body and I melt into the kiss. Luca sets all three of his heaping-full shopping baskets down on the counter and pulls me in close, deepening the kiss. I lose myself in the moment, our tongues gently pushing against each other while his hands stroke the hair back from my face.
When we break apart, he says, “Well, I guess I’m ready to check out.”
As I ring him up, the total reaches well over the daily sales quota and my stomach flip-flops.
“Luca, are you sure? This is...really expensive. You don’t have to buy all this stuff.”
He shakes his head. “Nope. You can’t talk me out of it. Your sales pitch was just too convincing, and yes, I do need three baskets of bath products. It’s final.”
After he pays— in cash— I help him load all his purchases into the trunk of his car, and then he turns to me and says, “Well, now that that’s over, I think it’s time you take the rest of the day off. After all, you have officially met your daily quota. What else could there be for you to do?”
At first I open my mouth to protest, to tell him that it would be irresponsible for me to abandon my duties even now. What would my mother think? What would my father think? But instead, I realize that I have no way of resisting Luca’s offer, and even if I did...well, I really do want to go with him and see whatever he has in store for me.
So I give in easily and decide to lock up the shop for the day. It’s thrilling, like the feeling of ditching class for the first time as a teenager, that delicious, forbidden sense of freedom and danger. I have no idea what to expect from a day out with Luca. It’s been so long since we last spent time together this way, and even though I know him, he’s definitely changed since then. But I am so willing and excited to find out.
“So, where are we headed on this day of rebellious truancy?” I pipe up as I slide into the passenger seat of his sleek car. Luca revs the engine into gear and glances over at me with a smile.
“Have you ever been to the aquarium?” he asks.
“The aquarium?” I repeat incredulously. “Really? No, I-I haven’t been there, actually.”
“Well, today’s the day then,” Luca declares, reaching over to gently squeeze my thigh through the thin fabric of my dress. That telltale heatwave vibrates through me again.
But after a few minutes of driving, I realize we’re not going in the direction of the New York Aquarium. In fact, I have no idea where we’re actually headed.
Luca
I don’t let myself glance at the rear-view mirror more than once every few minutes. I’ve learned to act natural in situations like this, to almost convince myself that nothing is out of the ordinary as I carefully weave through traffic. It’s important to stay relaxed, not to show the slightest hint that you know anything is out of the ordinary.
Because we’re being tailed.
I noticed it several blocks back, and it took a lot of strength not to swear. The black sedan that’s been keeping up with us isn’t one that I recognize. It’s the Cleaners, I have no doubt in my mind about that.
And I want to unload every chamber in my gun at them.
Normally, I wouldn’t feel so furious about getting tailed. Over the years, I’ve come to recognize it as part of business. An inconvenient part that meant things were soon to get very fast and very exciting, but still just another part.
But the thought that they would have the audacity to tail me right now fills me with fury that I have to force myself to hold back from my face. The reason is sitting right next to me. With Serena in the car, I feel a protective instinct rear its head inside me. It’s not a new feeling. I knew it well when we were teenagers. I forgot how powerful it made me feel.
These men dare put Serena at risk, and if it comes to it, I won’t hesitate to kill for that. But for now, I carefully plan out a path in my head that will take us through traffic where I know I can lose them. All it will take is a little patience.
I’m so caught up thinking of Serena’s safety that I almost forget we’re heading out on a date. That just makes me all the more furious at the bastards behind us for intruding on a moment with Serena.
“So,” Serena’s voice snaps me out of my concentration a moment, “I’ve gotta admit, you don’t strike me as an aquarium kinda guy.”
I raise my eyebrow at her. “No?”
“No, something about the rippling muscle and guns don’t scream ‘I love dolphins’.”
“Dolphins are alright,” I say simply. My face is still, but I can see her cracking a smile out of the corner of my eye as if she can’t tell if I’m joking or not.
“But you’ve been here before, right?” she says, glancing at the road.
“Once.” I take a turn, hand on the gear shift, and I’m at the other end of the road taking another turn by the time I see our pursuers come into sight. I’m gaining ground.
“Oh. Did some starfish owe you money or something?” she asks with a smile, and I can’t help but feel a grin tug at my lips.
“Seal, actually,” I say, and she giggles. It’s nice to hear her joking, feeling at ease with me. But every time we share something lighthearted together, I can’t help but feel that nagging voice at the back of my mind. It reminds me that I the closer I get to her, the more I could put her in danger.
I can’t let that happen. But I can’t abandon her, either. We’ve opened the Pandora’s Box, and I’m not prepared to lose her again.
To let her go again, I correct myself.
“Really, though, who convinced you to go check out the fish?”
“My uncle,” I say, my smile fading into a more wistful one as I think back to him. Along with Serena, my uncle is one of the few people I can think of in this country and feel happy.
“Carlo?”
“You remember him?” I say with a smile, glancing over at her before glancing back to the rear-view. Damn it, they’re back on us again.
“You talked about him a lot,” she says, “seems like a really nice guy.”
I give a half-smile, thinking back to my teenage years. “Yeah, yeah he is.”
“So what, you take your old uncle to the aquarium for his birthday or something?”
“Opposite,” I say, leaning back in the seat. “When I first got here—to America, I mean—my uncle wanted to show me the sights, and for some reason he thought the aquarium was a good place to start. I think I was...thirteen? Fourteen?”
“Ohhh my god,” she says, grinning broadly, and I know she’s picturing my punk-ass getting dragged around New York by the old man.
“I was a little shit,” I say with a laugh, thinking back to myself fresh off the ‘boat.’ “I think he didn’t realize what age I was at, and he kept trying to get me interested in all the sharks and jellyfish and all the dangerous ones. All I did was grouch around the place. Every time he tried to show me something, I’d fuck off somewhere else or swear at him with some of the English words I learned.”
“Wow, you were bad,” she giggles, and I shake my head, chuckling.
“He got back at me, though. When he started teaching me his carpentry, he drilled me, constantly.”
“Wait-”
“No, not literally,” I say, “it was just intense. He wouldn’t accept anything less than perfection. He’s a poor man, but I’ve never seen carpentry better than what he’d make, and he expected me to be able to do the same. I was getting there, too.”
That wasn’t the only thing Uncle Carlo taught me, either. There were other skills I got from him, skills that made me so good at what I do now. Uncle Carlo has a lot of secrets Serena doesn’t need to hear about. Not now, at least.
“Wow,” she says, and I notice she’s looking down at my hand on the stick-shift. “I always wondered what made your hands like that.”
“Like what?”
A little color comes to her cheeks. “Hm? Oh. I dunno. Rough. It’s...kinda nice.”
I smile, feeling quiet pride swelling in my chest, and she twirls a lock of hair around her finger for a few moments of silence between us before speaking up again.
“Are you sure you’ve been to the aquarium before?” I hear her ask. Despite the situation, I smile. I was wondering when she’d notice. She’s sharp. She always has been.
“I am.”
“...are you sure this is the right way?”
“Yes.”
She just stares at me blankly for a few moments, and I realize that I can’t hide anything from her. It’s better that she know, anyway—easier to keep her safe when she knows what I’m watching out for. “Look up at the mirror and tell me if you see a black sedan three cars behind us. Be subtle.”
Her body tenses up immediately, but she manages to look up at the mirror without jerking around. “Yeah.”
“It’s been following us since about five blocks from where we left.”
“Shit, really?” she hisses, and before she can say anything else, I reach over and take one of her small, slender hands in my rough fingers. I give it a squeeze, glancing over at her to smile.
“Let me worry about him,” I say calmly. “I might not have been born here, but I know the Bronx better than these stronzi from over the river.”
She nods, and I shift gears and pull out of traffic through a side-road when I have the chance. It’s a quick move, and I soon have us out onto another road that lets me weave through traffic a little more freely.
“I know a way Dad used to take us when things were...kinda heated,” she says suddenly, and I’m so surprised I look over at her with a raised eyebrow. She looks a little unsure of herself, but she nods to the road up ahead. “About five blocks down, take a right. I think I remember it pretty well.”
“Serena…”
“I’m sure about it,” she says with a little more confidence, and I crack a smile.
Following Serena’s direction, I take us on a winding path through the city, but I’m impressed by how Serena handles herself. I glance over at her now and then, and I can see she’s scared, but she keeps herself calm on the surface. Her eyes go to the mirror periodically, but she knows better than to be obvious. She’s strong. She’s had to be strong for so long. She shouldn’t have to be.
It takes us about half an hour out of the way, but around the third time I check the mirror and see nothing there, I hear Serena say cautiously, “I think you lost them.”
“Yes,” I say, turning onto a road to take us back toward where I still plan on taking her. “You shouldn’t have to worry about all that.”
“You seem pretty used to it,” she says, and I watch her eyes move up and down me swiftly.
“Yes,” I say, letting the matter rest there as I speed us toward the aquarium.
Sometime later, we come to a halt in the crowded parking lot.
Even as I get out of the car, my eyes are scanning the lot to see if we’ve been followed despite my efforts. The thought of work intruding on my time with Serena is infuriating, but not as infuriating as the thought of her getting hurt.
My glance around the lot is subtle, but as I walk around the car to Serena, I feel her meaningful squeeze on my arm, and I look down at her. She’s smiling up and me, and I know she’s telling me silently not to worry.
I give a smile back, but that won’t make my demons go away so easily.
Inside the aquarium, oddly, the sights and sounds of a big and happy crowd puts me a little more at ease, and I can enjoy the feeling of the temperature-controlled rooms with slightly dimmed lighting.
It’s a beautiful place. After stopping by the ticket booth, it’s Serena who takes the lead, dragging me to the nearest exhibits that catch her eye, growing more excited with each minute that goes by. While soft, happy music plays all around us, we make our way around some of the big and small glass tanks.
“Luca Luca Luca oh my God!” she squeals, her arm half-submerged in one of the open touch pools. I step up beside her to see her gently touching a brightly-colored starfish that’s lazing on the bottom.
“What’s the matter?” I chuckle, raising an eyebrow at her.
“It feels weeeeird,” she half-whispers, as if not wanting to offend the aquarium worker hovering around.
“You never felt a starfish before?” I say, a grin spreading across my face.
“You have?!” she shoots back.
I roll up my sleeve and sink my thick arm into the water, and I notice the worker glancing at me uneasily. I guess I look more likely to break something than Serena’s small hand. I give the man a wink and turn my attention back to Serena.
“I grew up on the coast. We used to go swimming and find sea urchins and other things. You can let them crawl on your hand, if you’re careful.”
“Wow,” she says, “I only ever went swimming in a public pool. You uh, really don’t want to pick up anything you find at the bottom of those.”
I chuckle, and we soon move on, drying our hands with cheap little paper towels.
As we walk, Serena slips her arm through mine, sighing gently as we stroll past the exhibits, and her eyes are wide as we walk through the glass tunnel that lets sea life float lazily all around us. I stand a head taller than most of the people around us, and I have a look about me that makes most people give us all the space we need.
I find myself watching her more than any of the fish, though. I didn’t think an aquarium was all that special, but she seems really swept up in the atmosphere of the place. As her eyes travel around the half-cylinder of the tunnel, they fall on me, and she blushes as she realizes I’m looking at her. “Stop! Look at the fish,” she playfully whines, and I give her hand a squeeze as we move on.
When I’m not looking at Serena, though, I’m glancing over my shoulder, at every corner, half-expecting to see someone following us.
It would be beyond stupid for anyone to follow us in here, but I can’t help but look.
Our walk soon takes us into a wide, very dark room, the only illumination coming from the soft blue glow of the tanks around us. The ceiling is low, and the only sound is the gentle droning of the machinery that keeps the place running. Only a handful of people wander around here—I suspect there’s a show going on somewhere drawing most of the day-crowd.
As we walk, Serena’s eyes are drawn to the beautiful displays of sea life floating around in view, but I catch her glancing at me from time to time. She’s a perceptive girl. I know she can sense my tension, as much as I try to hide it. We walk across the soft carpet to one of the windows, peering out into the blue, fuzzy space beyond, and I feel her squeeze my arm.
“Hey,” she says.
“Hey.”
“Is something up? You seem kind of…”
I give her a tight smile. “I don’t like being tailed, Serena.”
“Not just that,” she says, shaking her head, and I can see those round eyes looking straight through me. She can read me like an open book, as closed as I try to keep myself. “You’ve been tense all day. Did something happen at that meeting you had to run off to?”
“Serena, I don’t want to worry you with business.”
“Don’t say that,” she says softly, those beautiful eyes watching a shark glide around the bottom of its tank, “that’s what Dad used to say all the time.”
I’m silent for a few moments, but then she turns her head to look at me, a smile on her lips. “If you can trust me to lose someone tailing us, you can trust me with anything else that’s going on, I think.”
If you only knew the half of it.
I give her a sad smile, looking down at her, watching the wavy light reflecting off the water dance across her face, her hair, those eyes. “It isn’t that I don’t want to talk business because I don’t trust you, Serena,” I say, enveloping her hand in mine. I turn and take her small chin in my free hand, stroking her jaw with my thumb as she smiles up at me. “You thrive even though everything is stacked against you. You own a business. You’re a survivor. And you’re better than all this—that’s why I don’t want you getting wrapped up in anything dangerous.”
[Killer 01.0] Killer for Hire Page 8