Collateral

by Natasha Knight

  “Figured it’d be easier to text Alex. Or call your brother. FaceTime and see him rather than using the land line in the library.”

  I feel my face heat up. He knew?

  I sit back, let his jacket swallow me up. I don’t know what to say. I look down at the box in my lap.

  My father wouldn’t allow me to have a phone. He wouldn’t have allowed me to talk to Alex if he knew. He managed my visits to Gabe. He controlled every aspect of my life. Every single thing, no matter how inconsequential.

  And I want to cry.

  It’s probably the stupidest reaction, but I feel my eyes filling up.

  I’m grateful when Lorenzo returns with menus and I can turn away. I use the heel of my hand to wipe a tear from my eye and force myself to sit up. To not be a fucking baby. It’s probably bugged for all I know.

  But it’s a phone.

  I turn to Stefan who is pretending to read the menu. Giving me space. Maybe not wanting to embarrass me.

  I’ve embarrassed myself enough with him, haven’t I?

  “Thank you,” I say simply.

  “You’re welcome.” He holds his hand out and I hand him the box. He opens it, takes it out. “It’s already set up. This is your number. Mine is programmed here. This is the house, and this is Rafa. This one is if you ever need someone and can’t get hold of us. It calls the guard house. Do you know how to use it?”

  “I’ve been denied but I don’t live under a rock.” I hit the safari button and am instantly on line. “Are you going to monitor it?”

  He smiles and this smile, it makes his eyes sparkle. “Are you going to visit any adult sites I need to monitor?”

  “No. God!”

  He laughs out loud at my reaction and I realize he was joking. It makes me smile.

  “It’s exactly what it appears to be. No strings. Use it as you like. And just remember the gesture, Gabriela. I don’t have to be your enemy. I don’t want to be.”

  I look at it again, then back up at him. “You knew I was calling Gabe?”

  He nods.

  “You know about him then? I mean, you know how he is?”

  “Yes.”

  “How?”

  His expression darkens and he gestures to the menu. “Let’s talk about that later. I want to have a nice night. Do you know what you want?” he asks.

  I scan the menu, nod.

  He’s watching me when I look back up at him and when Lorenzo comes, he gestures for me to order.

  I do.

  In Italian.

  And I realize something.

  The menu was a test. Or he already knew I spoke the language. I wonder when he might have figured it out.

  “You knew that too?” I ask when Lorenzo is gone.

  He nods again.

  “Anything else?”

  “A few things,” he says.

  His phone rings before I can press and his brows furrow together. He takes it. As soon as he does, his face darkens and he stands, setting his napkin on the table and walking away. He’s out of earshot but I hear his raised voice, at least momentarily raised. He kicks at a nearby table leg and I’m not the only one watching him now.

  When he glances at me, I get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  But he turns his back again and it’s another ten minutes before he’s back at the table. And his mood is black.

  “What is it?” I ask. “Who was that?”

  He doesn’t look at me and before he can answer, Lorenzo is back with our dishes.

  But when Stefan finally meets my eyes, I know it’s bad. I know it’s very bad.

  “There was a fire, Gabriela.”

  Fire?

  He says something else, but I’m still processing that word. Trying to make sense of the look in his eyes.

  “Gabe?” I finally ask, feeling myself begin to shudder. Feeling tears burn my eyes.

  He shakes his head, but I don’t have even a moment of relief because he tells me who in the next instant.

  “Alex.”

  Those tears spill down my cheeks. “Alex?”

  He turns, gestures to one of his men and they’re all on their feet. He stands too, takes my arm. “Let’s go.”

  I stand, my legs weak, knees wobbly. He holds me up and somehow, we maneuver through the closely packed tables and I don’t care about the people watching us. I don’t care about anything.

  “Stefan?” I stop, turn to him once we’re inside the kitchen of the restaurant and the sounds and smells which a few minutes ago made my mouth water now make me nauseous.

  He knows what I’m going to ask.

  And I already know the answer. I don’t have to ask it. I see the answer on his face.

  “Is he… Did he…”

  “He’s dead, Gabriela. I’m sorry.”

  Why did I ask? Why? I already knew so why did I ask? Why did I have to hear him say it? Say those words?

  I don’t know how I get back to the car. Or how we get home. Or how, once we’re there, I get to my room while Stefan disappears somewhere downstairs. But somehow, I do. Somehow, I’m in my bedroom and on my bed and sobbing. Holding my new phone and sobbing.

  All I can think about is Alex. Alex beaten because of me. Alex dead—because of me? Because my dad found out I’d gone to see him?

  I think about his aunt. She knew I’d bring trouble.

  Oh God, his aunt. Is she dead too?

  Did my father do this to him? Fire. Killed by fire. Alex helpless in his wheelchair with his two broken legs because he helped me. All because he helped me.

  God.

  No.

  How? How could this happen?

  I stand up, take a step but my knees give out and I catch hold of the dresser, so I don’t fall. And there I see my iPod Touch. It was in my bag that I’d forgotten in Rafa’s car. He must have returned it while we were away.

  On the screen I already see there’s a message.

  My hands tremble as I pick it up because only one person messages me here.

  I walk back to the bed and sit down. I force in a deep breath before I unlock the screen and open up the text box and the sobbing starts all over again when I see his name. See the message from Alex. It’s from yesterday.

  I open it, see it’s a long text with a clown emoji. I smile at that. I hate clowns and he always uses that emoji just to poke fun at me.

  But my smile fades as I read the text and I didn’t think I could feel colder. More alone.

  More like a fool.

  Except that this time, my foolishness has cost Alex not only his legs, but his life.

  Betrayed.

  I feel betrayed. And it’s like someone has my heart in their fist and is squeezing.

  What was tonight about? Was it to raise my hopes high then watch me come crashing down? What did he get out of it? What would he get out of it?

  My eyes blur and I have to wipe tears away to read it again because this is wrong. It can’t be.

  When Rafa told me yesterday that Stefan was here and there and he’d be spending the night away, then told me about Clara being sent away, I assumed the worst. Well, what I’d thought the worst then.

  I assumed he was spending the night with Clara.

  But Stefan was in Rome.

  Stefan had gone back to Alex’s aunt’s little house. He’d paid my friend a visit.

  “Your boyfriend was here. Sorry, fiancé.

  Don’t tell him I told you. He’s secretive, to say the least. But I thought you should know what he was asking about.

  He wanted to know about Gabe and I told him. I told him the truth. All of it. I told him what your father tried to do when he found us together. And I told him Gabe took the bullet that was intended for me.

  I think it’s better for you that I did. He knows where you’re coming from. And he knows now we’re really just friends and I think he’ll let us be. Even mentioned I should come to the wedding. Weird huh? I never thought I’d say this, but he may not be a bad guy.

  An
yhow, message me when you get this.

  Hey by the way, talked to Gabe today. He sounds good. Did you get a chance to call him? And do you think I’ll ever get through a conversation with him without breaking down like a girl?

  Gotta go, Gabi. You take care.

  Alex”

  26

  Stefan

  The study door opens, slams against the wall and bounces off of it.

  Gabriela stands in the doorway, her face puffy from crying, eyes alternately filled with rage then utter defeat.

  “You liar. You fucking liar! You killed him! You went there and you killed him!”

  I hang up the phone, shake my head at the guard who appears just outside the study.

  “You killed him,” her voice breaks and her shoulders slump.

  I go to her but when I do, she’s raging again. “Don’t come near me!”

  I close the door. “Calm down, Gabriela.”

  When I put my hands on her arms, she slaps them away, moving farther from me.

  “How could you? Why would you? He told you the truth. Why did you do it?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “You’re a liar. I knew you were a liar. A monster. Why did you give me that phone? What was it? Do you get some sick pleasure from manipulating me? Playing me for the fool I am?”

  “Sit down, Gabriela.”

  “Did you have a good laugh afterwards?”

  “Sit down. We’ll talk about it. I’ll tell you what I know.”

  “Let me tell you what I know, Stefan. You’re a murderer. A cold-blooded killer.”

  It’s like she remembers her friend in that instant because her shoulders slump inward and she’s sobbing.

  “Did you kill his aunt too?”

  “The house burnt down. They were both inside asleep.”

  She whirls on me. “Asleep? You’re that much of a coward?”

  I get the bottle of whiskey from the cabinet, pour a glass and hold it out to her. “Here. Drink this.”

  She slaps my hand away and I’m not expecting it. The glass goes flying, shattering against the far wall, liquid spilling across the room, on my desk.

  I take her arms more forcefully, make her sit down and hold her there.

  “I went to see him, yes. And he told me what happened with Gabe. Told me about their relationship. About your father finding out.”

  Her face crumples. I don’t know how she has tears left.

  “You knew he wasn’t a threat. You knew.”

  “I didn’t do this, Gabriela. I wouldn’t.”

  She pushes out of my grasp and I let her go, let her stand.

  I stand too. Go to her.

  She backs away. “I’d thought you’d gone to see her you know that?”

  “Who?”

  “When Rafa told me, I thought you’d gone to see Clara.”

  “Rafa? When did he tell you anything?”

  “I’d thought,” she stops, sobs wracking her body as she struggles for a shuddering breath. “I’d thought you were out fucking her. I’d thought you had left me here to go fuck her. I stupidly cared about that.”

  “You’re upset, Gabriela. I’ll take you to bed. We’ll have this conversation when you’re not so upset.”

  She shakes her head and I’m not sure she can hear me.

  “I thought you were fucking your cousin. You should have been out fucking your cousin! But instead you were murdering my best friend.”

  She looks down at the desk, and I see what her eyes zero in on immediately and the instant she puts her hand on the letter opener, I put mine over hers, grabbing her wrist before she can pick it up, whirling her around and tugging her into me so her back is to me. I hold her tight, two arms across her chest.

  “Stop this,” I tell her.

  “Let me go!”

  She squirms but I hold tight.

  “I did not hurt Alex Romano. Why would I? What would be my reason? Think for fuck’s sake.”

  “Get off me! Don’t touch me!”

  “I’m going to have Millie get you something to help you sleep. We’ll talk about it tomorrow,” I say, walking her toward the door.

  She claws her fingernails into the bare skin of my forearms, scratching out skin, drawing blood.

  “That’s enough,” I say, squeezing my arms tighter around her. “I’m warning you.”

  “You’re hurting me. Let me go!”

  I loosen my hold and the moment I do, the moment she’s able to, she spins around and knees me hard in the balls.

  “Fuck!”

  I grab hold of her, doubling over in agony, but she slips away, grabs the letter opener and comes at me.

  I manage to get hold of her wrist, squeeze until she screams. I spin her around so her back is to me again.

  “That was a fucking mistake!”

  “I’m going to kill you!” she cries out. “I’m going to fucking kill you!”

  “You need to calm the fuck down! Are you going to calm down or do I need to make you?”

  “Fuck you!”

  “I guess I’ll make you then,” I say as she fights hard, harder than I thought she could, and I hug her closer, moving my arm up to her neck, shifting her a little to squeeze on the pressure point there and the result is instantaneous.

  The letter opener drops to the carpet with a thud, and Gabriela goes limp in my arms.

  I lift her up, put her over my shoulder, swallowing back the pain in my balls, and open the door.

  Two soldiers watch, as does Millie.

  But they all know to stay back as I carry her up to my bedroom and lay her on my bed.

  Her hair is matted to her forehead, and she looks sad, even unconscious. I look down at her, at her young face, her sad face and I think how much she’s seen for her eighteen years. How much violence. How much loss.

  I think about how she’d looked at me at the restaurant when I’d given her that phone. A simple fucking phone. How she’d tried to hide the fact that she was crying.

  I bend and take off her shoes and cover her with the blanket and I think for the first time in my life, I am not only a predator but a protector.

  Her protector.

  27

  Gabriela

  I wake up feeling nauseous, my head aching. It doesn’t take me long to remember why and for a moment, I think it’s not true. Not real. But I know it is. And sadness overwhelms everything else.

  I’m in Stefan’s bed. Again. I know right away. He must have brought me here after our fight.

  Alex.

  Alex is dead.

  Alex. Is. Dead.

  Sadness overwhelms me and I roll onto my side and for a moment, I let it. I let myself feel this agony. This loss.

  But then I think about Stefan again. Stefan at dinner and how he was. Even laughing.

  The Stefan at dinner was a world different to the man I’ve come to know. The true monster. He took me off my guard with his gesture today, but he is a monster. I can never forget that.

  I don’t know how he got me up here. Did I pass out? Did he do something to me? Give me something?

  He’s so strong, it takes nothing for him to overpower me.

  I remember Alex’s text. How he thought maybe Stefan wasn’t a bad guy and how wrong he was. That mistake, it cost Alex his life.

  I suck in a deep, shaky breath, push through the pain in my head to sit up. I wait for the world to right itself.

  The clock beside the bed tells me it’s a little after three in the morning.

  I have to get out of here. I have to get away from him. He’s a sadist. A murderer.

  And here, he’s king.

  He can get away with anything. Even murder.

  Climbing out of the bed, I use the joint balcony to walk back to my room.

  I’m still dressed at least. He didn’t strip me this time. I find the phone he gave me on the nightstand. I pick it up and I dial the one man who can help me. The one man who is as heartless as Stefan. As much a monster.

  Because I was r
ight.

  Coming here, Stefan taking me, it was jumping out of the frying pan into the fire.

  Because Stefan is more cruel. More dangerous.

  My father answers on the second ring. He sounds like I just woke him up and I wonder if he’s still in Rome. I’d thought he’d have gone back to New York by now.

  “Dad?” I say, tears coming again, tears for Alex, for Gabe. For myself.

  “Gabriela,” he pauses. “I heard what happened.”

  He already knows?

  I sob. It takes me a long time to talk.

  “Has that bastard hurt you?”

  I shake my head, but he can’t see me, and I can’t seem to talk.

  “If he’s hurt you, I’ll fucking kill him.”

  “I want…” I can’t get more words out, every time I try, sobs choke me.

  “He’s got men watching your brother too. Who knows what he’ll do to Gabe.”

  “Gabe?”

  He wouldn’t hurt Gabe. Gabe’s been hurt enough. But he hurt Alex. After Alex told him the truth, he still hurt him. And hadn’t Alex been through enough too?

  “Where is Sabbioni?” my father asks, sounding angrier than I’ve ever heard him.

  “I don’t know.”

  “The house in Palermo has sea access. You’re there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you get down to the cove?”

  “I will.”

  “I’m sending a boat, Gabriela. It’ll be there in twenty minutes. Can you get there in twenty minutes?”

  “Yes. I will.”

  “Fuck this bastard. Fuck his contract. I’m bringing you home. Go.”

  I nod, hang up. I go into my closet, change out of my dress into a pair of dark shorts and a black T-shirt, put on jogging shoes. I stuff my phone and iPod into my pockets and listen at the door. The house is quiet.

  I walk out into the hallway. It’s dark. I make my way downstairs where it, too, is dark.

  The patio doors are closed but not locked. No need to lock them. This house is built on a cliff. The only access to the back is from that cove which is only possible by sea.

  But I have to remember the guards on the roof the other night.

  I stay close to the wall of the house as I creep toward the steep stairs that lead down. The night is dark but for the sliver of moon. It’s good for cover but not so good for my trip down. I move as quickly as I can, taking care not to make any noise.