L'amore: The Luminara Series
Page 57
“Right, I’m taking her out. Toshums, Rubster, walkies,” I chirp, calling on Tosh and Ruby.
Just as I’m about to take the dogs out, someone knocks. I look through the panelled glass. Devon asks me to move into the living room before I get a chance to open the door for the well-dressed couple. He shows the two visitors into the small living room then asks for Lucca.
From the door of the dining room, I watch Lucca nod his head and follow Devon out the room with Nate and Lloyd. Shuffling around, I’m agitated and have the front of my hand against my mouth worrying my fingers.
“I’m going to the bathroom. Be back in a bit, then I’ll take the dogs out,” I tell my mum, who’s too engrossed watching The Notebook to notice. I deliberately close the door and venture through towards the other side of the house where the small living room is being used as a security room.
The door is slightly ajar and the light is shining through the crack underneath. There are lots of heated discussions going on with Lucca’s voice being the most significant. I tiptoe outside the door. Pressing my ear against the pine, I can hear Lucca swearing and cursing, raising his voice and probing the couple.
Oh shit, this can’t be good news. I’d love to file this and pretend it’s not happening, but this chapter needs to be addressed.
I think they may be investigators or specialists or something because he’s going on about developments and updates, questioning them. I hold my chest, tapping my fingers against my skin when the conversations turn to the burgundy vehicle I saw outside.
“So you are telling me it was a hired car?” Lucca asks.
“Yes, it was hired under the name of Kyle Saunders, which of course we’ve traced. He died four years ago in a house fire in London. Someone has used a fake identity, passport, and cards.”
“Is it him, goddamn it? Is it him using different aliases?” Lucca is furious as he rants at the couple.
“I’m afraid we’re not sure yet. The burned vehicle was found tonight near the Ospreys nature reserve. The team is working for prints, but the person was very clever and clean. We can’t rule out the possibility that your man has help … professional help.”
My stomach churns at the thought.
I can sense his heated tension radiating through the door and feel every stomp of his feet as he paces.
“Bodies?” Lucca asks.
I need to slap my hand over my mouth to muffle my gasps.
“No, empty.”
“I do not fucking believe this. Surely you have video footage or can trace the handwriting or credit card used when the car hire was made,” he protests.
“We haven’t found any links, but you’ll be informed as soon as we do, Mr. Caruso. There is something else. The church minister reported a raid tonight. She came back from the senior citizen club and her manse has been turned over. Nothing was stolen. They are dusting it just now, but again, another clean job.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? We were there on Sunday. Maybe it is linked!” he shouts.
“It may be coincidental, but we’re treating it as suspicious. Also, there was a deliberate fire this afternoon over at the Murdock’s stables. The family is okay, and so is the house, but the stables burned down. They managed to get all but one horse out and into the paddock, and they’ve been transported to the riding school in the village.”
“Jesus, Lexi and I were there on Tuesday,” Lucca snaps.
Oh my God, no … please no … Angel.
I feel a deep-seated pit in my stomach, the horses, the Murdock’s, and Cathy. This is catastrophic.
He must be watching me. He’s trying to break me and get to me by destroying everything important to me. My hand moves from my gaping mouth to my stomach. It isn’t just me we’re protecting now.
Our world is crashing down.
I must protect our baby …
I push the door open, protectively holding my stomach, and feel my legs go weak beneath me. Shaking and startled, I stare at Lucca.
“Christ. Lexi, did you hear any of that?” He’s beside me in two fast strides, his eyes still fierce with rage and a trace of uncertainty.
“It’s him,” I stutter.
“What? You do not know that.” He narrows his eyes towards the female detective.
“Yes, I do. There was a man standing in the graveyard on Sunday watching us,” I say towards the female detective. Everything is coming back to me, I’ve been so focused on the pregnancy, but I recall the event trying to visualise what I remember seeing.
He grabs my shoulders tightly. “Jesus, Doc, why did you not say anything?” His voice is broken with panic. My grandparents and mum enter the room, having heard the commotion.
I’m numb.
I can’t speak.
I only stare with an iced glaze over my startled eyes. “Miss Robertson, this is very serious. We need a description.”
I refrain from turning around to look at the probing detective this time. “Black coat, well-built, golf umbrella,” I splutter, utterly dazzled.
“Jesus …” Lucca sucks in a sharp breath of air.
“What’s going on?” My mum demands.
The female detective relays the information to someone on her phone while her partner flips through the notes in his hand. Lloyd opens up his laptop, frantically searching for something as Devon makes a phone call.
“Alexis, elaborate … please,” Mum begs.
Chewing the inside of my cheek, I force myself to speak.
“Car ...” I stammer.
“What about the fucking car? Jesus Christ, tell me!” Lucca shouts, shaking my shoulders.
“Lucca, please calm down. You’re scaring her,” Mum scolds.
“Sorry … Lexi, please tell me. You need to help us because we cannot help you if you do not tell us.” He softens his tone, letting go of his grip and running his thumb over my cheek.
“Lexi, stop havering, kid, and tell us.” Grandpa follows Lucca’s begging with a softer more rational tone. Peacemaker.
“The burgundy car … it was here today. Hayley told me. And yesterday it nearly ran her over outside the Hilton. I saw the same car on Sunday morning, remember? Then there was a stranger, a creepy guy in the graveyard watching us. It unnerved me but I assumed it was the groundsman. At the gas station on the way home I saw a similar car, but he never refuelled. I’m sorry; I was too distracted to mention it.” My voice breaks.
I struggle to take air in.
“Shit,” Lucca hisses.
“There’s something else. Hayley said someone with an accent was chatting to her in the bar, but she was drinking and doesn’t remember anything.” I sob and tremble.
The detectives both look at Lucca, nodding, and move with great speed around the desk making more calls, pulling files from their briefcases, and firing up their tablets. The man has an earpiece in calling the CID followed by the local police station and notifying the specialist.
“The team will be here shortly,” the male detective says. Lucca paces towards the table to pick his phone up, punching the wall another few times on the way.
Everything from that point happens in slow motion. Granny’s squawking and my grandpa is beside himself with worry. Mr. Carlin is grumpier than normal, pinching his suspenders, unsure what to do. Hayley and Hayden think they are on a movie set, totally stunned, and Lucca and my mum have just freaked out under the pressure of stress.
She calls Cameron in a frenzied fit, and I’m still standing in the same spot, my arms dangling by my sides. I can’t focus on anything in particular because of the humming noise in my ears.
There’s a moving picture all around me, only now it’s a jumbled image with lots of distortion which I’ve zoned out of. I don’t hear them, I only see what looks very much to be a nightmarish dream and my blood runs cold.
Stumbling backwards, I try to ignore my impending fate. My head can’t quite process this—discovering I’m pregnant one minute, then realising I’m destined for abuse or death in the next or wor
se …
My friends and family.
This is all so extreme, but it’s the reality of my screwed-up life that I need to accept. But I’m angry and don’t want to accept it. I want a normal life without complications.
The whimpers and worries from within the room over spill into the dining room and push me further back into a quiet shelter within the hallway.
I’m merely a fading flicker among all the fire. I slip out the hallway and stagger out the front door, hobbling around the perimeter, holding onto the white pebbled walls outside, until I’ve found the quiet corner inside the barn where I can sit on the hay and pull my knees up to my chest.
Doris has followed me. She whines at my despair then jumps up beside me, burying her velvety head into my neck. I hold onto her tightly like my life depends on it and cry uncontrollably against her mink-like coat. My heart breaks like nothing else because I simply can’t comprehend this … fucking mind cluster.
Doris has now wrapped her two lanky front legs around my neck. That’s the thing about Weimeraners, they have human like tendencies. I clutch onto her and close my eyes.
Chapter 33
Queens and Kings
I don’t know how much time has passed, but I open my raw eyes and startle when I see a torch blaring in front of me. I’m swiftly lifted into Lucca’s arms and he carries me through the wood shed, into the house, past the chaos, and into our room.
He sits me on the bed and grabs our suitcases from under the bed, throwing them on top of the mattress. I’m frozen, blinking nervously, just watching. He grabs everything from the wardrobe and throws it in the case then empties the drawers and does the same.
I stare dumbfounded at the dressing table when he runs his arm across it in one swift sweep depositing my cosmetics in a bag. My brain is all out of appropriate motor skills to make me manoeuvre, the signals temporarily malfunctioning as I simply can’t move.
Lucca stuffs my toiletries, gifts, shoes, chargers, and anything lying around into the holdalls then places his laptop in his briefcase.
“Wait here. Do not move,” he orders, giving me a tight reassuring squeeze to my knees.
He calls Lloyd and Uncle Jim to come upstairs and help him with the luggage while Devon keeps an eye on me. I yank my Wellingtons off then pull my knees up to my chest and hug them, feeling very vulnerable and small in this fucking mind puzzle.
Devon sits on the dressing table stool watching me but remaining silent.
Lucca returns and hands Devon a piece of paper then asks him to go downstairs. He gives him an appreciative pat on the shoulder in a silent exchange.
“Lexi, you’re perfectly safe. We will make sure you and your family are well protected, gal. It will be grand. Your guy is an amateur,” Devon says in his sexy Irish accent.
I give him a lacklustre smile but appreciate his sentiment. There’s nothing amateur about Michael Parks. Evil is ingrained in him.
Lucca runs his hands through his hair, and on that cue Devon leaves and closes the door. He drops to his knees on the floor in front of me, pressing his forehead against mine.
He’s shaking.
I’m shaking.
“We are going away,” he says, gripping my thighs, breathing heavily against my face, his blue eyes stormy.
No reassurance, no spark. Shit, it’s bad.
“Where are we going?”
“I am taking you back to Tuscany tonight.”
“No! What about my family?” Suddenly alert, I clench onto his biceps in fear, begging him to be rational.
“Your Aunt Eva, Uncle Jim, Hayley, and Hayden are being transported to a safe house under police protection because they feel Hayley is too exposed and a target. Your grandparents and Mr. Carlin are going back to our house in Bothwell and will be monitored and looked after with lots of security, and your mum is coming with us; she is already packed. I need to take you out of the country. I cannot have you at risk here until he’s found.”
“Oh my God, I’m going to …” I scramble off the bed, hunch over the toilet, and vomit again and again until my stomach’s empty. Lucca is right by my side holding my hair and wetting a cloth.
“Doc … we need to go.”
Certain.
Sharp.
Focused.
“Hayley?” My voice falters, quivering and breaking. My lips tremble with dread for her.
“They are pulling video links from the bar, but it looks as if Hayley was used as bait. She will be protected around the clock.” He runs his hand over my back. “Are you okay, baby? We need to move quickly.”
“No, not my little cousin. She’s too innocent to be part of this. She doesn’t deserve this.” I stand on shaky legs, rinse my mouth, then look down at my stomach and pause.
“Lucca?” I cry.
“No, do not. You do not dare. I have you. You are both going to be safe.” Without another word, he picks me up and carries me downstairs.
It all happens so fast—the policemen, detectives, and Men in Black sprinting back and forth, my mum sobbing into Aunt Eva’s neck saying goodbye, my granny heartbroken on the chair being consoled by a specialist, Hayley wrapped in Uncle Jim’s arms, and Hayden chalk white. I’m motionless.
When Lucca carries me towards the door something sparks inside me.
“Wait!” I shout and wiggle from Lucca’s embrace. I walk barefoot through the frantic crowd and find Hayley. I walk past the chaos and stop right in front of her.
“I’m sorry,” I say, cupping her face. “I wouldn't wish this on my enemy. I’m so sorry. Everything will be okay, and you will be fine. I promise you. We won’t let anything happen to you.” She looks terrified. My heart is breaking and I just want to take her with me. Why does it need to be like this?
She’s in shock with terror in her eyes and doesn’t respond. She’s confused. Anguish strains Uncle Jim’s face as he rubs my arm.
“It’s not your fault,” she eventually says. I kiss her, cuddle her, and tell her I love her.
“Apple,” a broken voice says.
Oh God … Grandpa.
He stands helpless—a wounded soldier—with his hand on his heart like a broken man. I wrap my arms around him believing it’s the last time I’m ever going to see him, breaking my heart. My hair at the side is soaked with tears and my grandpa is shaking. I’ve never seen him so afraid.
“Apple, I love you. I love you as much as life itself, you know that. You’re my breath of fresh air, kid, but I need you to go with Lucca. He will keep you safe. We can’t protect you here. Call us as soon as you get to Tuscany. We’re going to join you there shortly.”
“You are?”
Hope … I now have hope. I thank my lucky stars.
“Yes of course we are,” he stutters.
“Oh, Grandpa, I love you so much. I’d love for you to come. I hate the thought of …” He places his fingers to my lips to shush me. I hold him for what seems like only seconds, but Lucca puts his hand on my shoulder gently prying me away. It’s time. I don’t want to go.
“Lexi, we need to go.”
“No, wait …” I cry, noticing Mr. Carlin pacing in the hallway.
“For fuck sake, Alexis, we need to go!” Lucca shouts over the commotion while banging the wall with his fist. I yank my hand away and wrap my arms around Mr. Carlin’s neck while I have the chance.
“Please tell me this is going to be okay?” I beg for his promises because he’s a wise man with wise words and always centres me.
“I don’t know that, lassie, but I will pray for everyone,” he says in a stern, gruff voice.
Lucca is cursing and swearing behind us, which causes me to sigh. I close my eyes and shake my head. Mr. Carlin does something he’s never done before—he takes my face in both hands.
“Don’t be angry at him. He’s hurting too and falling apart because he wants to protect you, lassie. You know, in a game of chess the queen always protects the king. You remember that because I know in the end, Lexi, you’ll always be the
strong one under pressure. You keep it buried deep, girl. Hell, you always do, but when the time’s right, you dig and fight and protect your king. He’s a strong man, but sometimes men can be so blinded by love that they become weak and falter. He’s stressed but trying very hard to mask it. Lexi, be strong, have faith and courage. Eleanor will guide you, lass.”
“No, I can’t, I’m not!” I yell, dropping to my knees. Lucca lifts me off the floor in his protective, masculine arms and storms to the front door with me.
I don’t get the chance to say goodbye to anyone else in the house or comprehend what’s happening before Lucca carries me out and places me in one of the SUVs. He fastens my seat belt and gets in beside me. I hear Doris barking from the porch, which tugs right at my heartstrings.
“Wait!” I yell.
“No, you can’t take her, Alexis.” Mum sobs from the front of the vehicle, rummaging in her handbag; I hear the familiar pop of pills from a packet. Mum’s obviously had to take her medication because of tonight’s discovery.
I focus on Mr. Carlin standing at the front door next to the detective, rubbing his head in confusion and pinching his suspenders. I lower the window. “Mr. Carlin, can you take care of her until I’m home? Please make sure she’s looked aft …” I’m barely able to finish, my throat raw.
“Lassie, don’t worry about the beast. You get yourself to safety. We’ll all be fine, but I give you my word, I’ll look after her.” He coughs then blows me a kiss. I catch it and return the gesture as Lloyd slams his foot on the accelerator and drives off with us into the fearful unknown dark of night.
Mr. Carlin’s shrinking eyes are the last image I have because my eyes are squeezed shut so tightly that I’m seeing white distorted shapes flickering through the darkness within the car.
Lucca pulls me into his chest protectively, but all I can think about is the family we have left behind.
“Alexis, are you okay?” Mum asks, but she sounds broken.
Like me.
How can I be so mindless wallowing in my own anguish when she must be absolutely ready to shatter and break? When she doesn’t have anyone holding her or protecting her?