She turned away from the window and sat on Sofia’s bed, smoothing back the white eyelet comforter. A month ago — even two weeks ago — she would have cried. She would have laid down on Sofia’s bed, stifling her sobs with the pillow Sofia had once lain on every night.
But sometime in the past week she’d grown blessedly numb. She was still vaguely aware of her sister’s absence, of the danger she was almost certainly in under Diego’s care. But the worry was like a shark bumping at the bottom of her life raft. If only she ignored it, it might just go away. But as soon as she acknowledged it, as soon as she let herself revisit the stark fear she’d felt when she realized Diego had Sofia, she would never stop screaming.
Sofia needed Isabel to be strong. She wasn’t street smart like Luca and the others. She didn’t know how to fire a gun or fight. But she knew more about Diego’s business than she realized after two years in the shadows, eavesdropping when she could, filing away information for later. She needed to stay focused, think about all the different places Diego might be, all the different people who might have seen him.
For now, numbness was her friend, and she was in no hurry to let it go in favor of the utter panic that had occupied her mind during the first couple of weeks after Diego took Sofia.
She stood and walked to the dresser, idly straightening Sofia’s things, even though she’d done it countless times before. She liked touching them: the sparkly purple hairbrush, the Star Wars action figures, the books. It was a reminder that her sister was real, that there was still hope of bringing her home to Isabel where she belonged. Then she would get them away from Diego for good.
Whatever it took.
Her mood lifted when she thought about Luca, out there right now, looking for information. He’d been her rock since the day she’d realized Sofia was missing, the one good thing she had left. Even her art was lost to her now. She hadn’t been able to paint a stroke since Diego took Sofia.
But Luca… He was still here. Still fighting for her and Sofia. It had been a revelation, that someone could love her so much. It was only her love for him that had been a burden. Not because she didn’t love him. She did. She loved him more than anyone but her little sister.
But it was that love that had cost her Sofia. Isabel had been preoccupied with Luca, with the possibility of a new life with him, one where she and Sofia were free. She’d been too eager, too hasty in stealing the video that Diego had been holding over her head for the last year so she would keep doling out money from the inheritance. Maybe if she’d been more clear-headed she would have seen the possibility that Diego would do something rash.
Still, she couldn’t regret it. Loving Luca — and being loved by him — had changed her. Now she wanted the life she deserved.
And she was more than willing to fight for it.
She moved to the closet, stepping inside and rifling through Sofia’s clothes. There were things Diego should have taken with them, like Sofia’s favorite red sweater and the flowered sundress that was her favorite. Did Sofia miss them? Did she cry out for Bunny, the stuffed rabbit, still on the bed, that she’d had since she was a baby?
Isabel felt the familiar swell of panic rise in her chest and turned from the closet. She would be no good to Sofia if she gave into it. She would have to be strong. Her sister needed her.
45
“This looks great,” Elia said, digging into the platter of fried plantains in front of him.
“I can’t take credit,” said Isabel. “It’s from that little place down by the beach.”
Luca took her hand under the table. The fact that she hadn’t been cooking said more about her state of mind than any of the words she kept to herself. When Sofia had lived at the house, Isabel had made a point to cook for her and make her lunches, wanting Sofia to have the same kind of love and care that Isabel had gotten when their mother was alive. She had seemed to enjoy her time in the kitchen, laughing and talking to Sofia about her day at school, one spot of normalcy in a situation that was anything but normal.
Now Luca saw the effort it took for Isabel to get out of bed in the morning, take a shower, get through the day not knowing where Sofia was or if she was safe. It was only at night that she came alive. Under his touch and the careful ministrations of his mouth, she seemed able to forget her worry for just a little while.
Or maybe that was just Luca being egotistical. Probably she didn’t forget for even a second. But Luca still tried, grateful to give her what pleasure he could between the hours of dusk and dawn when her worry about Sofia seemed most acute.
“Then you get credit for picking great takeout,” Elia said, shoveling a forkful of food into his mouth.
Isabel smiled and pushed her food around her plate.
“Cruz give you anything today?” Marco asked Luca.
“Not a thing,” Luca said. “Claims Diego’s business is still being conducted, but no one has seen him in the last few weeks.”
“Any idea where he might be hiding out?” Elia asked.
Luca shook his head, hating to admit the visit had been pointless. “Although the guy’s so strung out, I’m not sure he’d remember even if he’d seen Diego himself.”
“I had a couple beers with Aldo today,” Elia said. “He hasn’t seen Diego either, but he did say the man conducting Diego’s business is a small Columbian with a mean streak.”
Luca raised an eyebrow. “Columbian?”
Elia nodded.
“Think it could be Eduardo?” Marco asked.
“It’s possible,” Luca said. Isabel had given the bodyguard named John a nice severance check and sent him on his way, but Eduardo had disappeared the same day Diego took Sofia. “Let’s put the word out on the street. If we find Eduardo, maybe we find Diego, too.”
“Speaking of Columbian,” Elia said, “Aldo mentioned the bad blood between Diego and Sanchez.”
“Anything specific?” Lorenzo Sanchez was every bit as dangerous as Diego, but Luca was desperate for any angle that might help them find Sofia.
“Not much,” Elia admitted through another bite of food. “Just that Diego’s been reneging on their territorial agreement, selling in Sanchez’s territory, then claiming it was a mistake. Shit like that.”
Luca thought about it. “Sanchez going to do anything about it?”
Normally he wouldn’t be anxious for a drug war — especially not a drug war with Isabel and Sofia in the middle of it. But chaos was his friend now. As long as Diego’s operation was unstable, as long as there were variables in play, there was the possibility that Diego would make a mistake. Luca had no way of knowing if Diego had prepared a place in advance, if he was hiding out in a well-equipped safe house or in a hastily prepared apartment. But he hoped for the latter — and for anything that would keep Diego off balance enough that he might make a mistake.
Elia shrugged. “Hard to say. You know how these guys are — they play it close to the vest.”
“Tell Aldo to keep his ear to the ground,” Luca said. “Let us know if he hears anything else.”
“Already done, boss.”
Luca chafed under the familiar term but didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to be anyone’s boss. He just wanted to get Sofia away from Diego and take her and Isabel somewhere they could be safe and happy.
He glanced over at her, taken aback all over again by her loveliness. She was wearing a black dress that only highlighted her pallor — she hadn’t been out in the sun much in the past month — and the sharp angle of her collarbones, but she was still the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Her hair was lustrous, long and loose, falling almost to her ass in dark waves from chestnut to amber. There were shadows under her eyes, but they only made him want to scoop her into his arms, protect her and make her happy every minute for the rest of her life.
He scooted back from the table on impulse, then held out a hand to her.
She looked at it, then up at him. “What?”
“We’re going out.” He glanced at Marco
and Elia. “All of us.”
Elia downed the rest of his wine and let out a whoop. “You don’t have to tell me twice!”
“I don’t know…” Isabel looked nervously around, like she was afraid someone might see her even thinking about enjoying herself.
Luca softened his voice. “You’re not doing her any good here, sweetheart. You’ve been cooped up in this house too long. The change of scenery will do you good.” He smiled. “Besides, I know this perfect hotel bar on the beach.”
A little of the lost light came back into her eyes as the corners of her mouth turned up into a smile. It was like storm clouds parting after a long rain, the sun finally breaking through to warm the cold, wet ground.
“I think I know the one you’re talking about.”
46
The hotel bar on the beach was busy, full of tourists and business people in town for conventions and conferences. Isabel sat with Luca, Marco, and Elia, watching the way they laughed and talked, giving each other a hard time and reminiscing about old jobs and old friends. She felt a little guilty watching them. They seemed young and carefree, absent the hardness that she’d grown accustomed to since Diego’s disappearance with Sofia. This is how they should be all the time. They were only so serious, so worried, because they’d gotten caught up in her life.
Luca laughed at something Elia said, and she felt the vibration of it all the way in her toes. She loved his laugh. She’d heard too little of it since she’d met him — first because they’d tiptoed around their feelings for each other, later because they’d been on guard around Diego, and more recently because of Sofia’s absence. She hoped she’d get to experience life without something horrible or tragic hanging over their heads. Hoped she’d get to hear him laugh first thing in the morning and again before they went to sleep.
He looked over at her, caught her watching him.
“What?” he said.
She watched him touch the beer bottle to his mouth, tip it, and drink. His lips were full and wet, and her belly tightened, the space between her legs growing wet as she thought about how they felt against the throbbing heat of her sex.
She smiled. “Nothing.”
He returned her grin. “I know that look. That isn’t nothing.”
She reached under the tall bar table, ran her hand along his jean-clad thigh. His muscles were taut under the denim, and the scent of him — musk and something like eucalyptus — made her head spin.
She leaned in, gave him a long, lingering kiss. “I just like looking at you,” she said, her mouth inches from his.
He groaned a little. “And if you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to sweep you off into some dark corner and have my way with you.”
“I might not complain,” she murmured, inching her hand farther up his thigh toward the visible bulge between his legs. The sight of it made her even wetter, and she marveled that with everything that was happening — all her anger at Diego and her fear for Sofia — she could still feel such sweeping lust. It was the kind of lust that set her blood boiling, that obliterated everything else with its heat. Even when she went to bed full of fear, tears threatening to spill over so she had to turn away from Luca in the bed they now shared, one touch from him was all it took to light the fire that seemed to smolder constantly for him.
He leaned in, captured her mouth with his, ran his tongue along her lower lip before taking it between his teeth and tugging. She moaned, touching her hand to his neck as she swept his mouth with her tongue, her panties already soaked from the simple contact.
“Get a room!” Elia shouted.
She pulled away, her cheeks hot. She was still getting used to the easy familiarity of the men Luca called friends. To the way they teased him like a brother and watched over her like a sister. It was an unfamiliar camaraderie, and after months fearing the men who worked with Diego, she had finally come to understand that these were men of a different breed.
Just as fierce, but fair and honorable.
“Shut it,” Luca said. He took her hand and whispered in her ear. “Want to go for a walk?”
She nodded, sliding off the bar stool.
“Catch you on the flip side,” Luca said.
“Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do!” Elia said.
“Which is basically nothing,” Marco added.
“Yeah, yeah,” Luca laughed. He tried to sound annoyed, but Isabel heard the warmth in it, felt his affection for the two men who had put their lives on hold to help him.
To help her.
They headed away from the crowded bar, walking toward the roar of the ocean in the darkness. The beach was empty except for a couple heading back toward the hotel and a lone woman staring out to sea from a rise in the sand. Luca took Isabel’s hand and led her away from the bright lights of the hotel, down to where the water rushed close to their feet.
He bent in front of her, and she was momentarily confused until he placed one big hand around her calf.
“Lift,” he commanded.
She did, and he slipped off her sandal, then did the same with the other one. When he stood, he handed her the shoes and took off his own, then led her down to the waves breaking against the shore.
The water was already warm, the sand soft between her toes. After the last month of being cooped up in the house, tense twenty-four hours a day as she waited for word about Sofia, she had to resist the urge to sigh when her feet sunk into the soft, wet sand.
Luca looked down at her and smiled like he could read her thoughts. “Good?”
She nodded and closed her hands around his giant bicep, leaned against his arm. “Good.”
They walked in silence, the hotel lights and music from the bar receding behind them. When they were well into the shadows near a small cove, Luca stopped.
“Let’s sit.”
They dropped onto the sand just beyond the rushing waves. The moon was full and high, casting a column of light on the water from the horizon almost all the way to shore. Isabel wondered about all the people around the world doing just this — sitting on a beach somewhere, looking out to sea, feeling small in a way that was somehow comforting. It didn’t lessen the pain of being without Sofia, of not knowing if she was okay or if Diego was treating her well, but she felt the tiniest spark of comfort at the thought that she wasn’t alone. Luca had been right, she’d needed the change of scenery. She exhaled, then inhaled the briny air and exhaled again.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
He put his arm around her and squeezed. “You’re welcome.”
He hesitated, and she had the sense that he wanted to say something else. It was another revelation — that she could know someone so well. That he could know her just as well.
“What is it, querido?” she asked him.
He shook his head. “Nothing.”
She reached up and placed a palm against his cheek, turned his face toward her. “That doesn’t look like nothing.”
He smiled, then looked out to sea. “I was going to apologize, but then I realized you’d only feel the need to comfort me, so in the end it would be selfish. I don’t want you to comfort me. I want to comfort you.”
“You do that every day, Luca,” she said softly. “But what reason could you possibly have to apologize?”
If he hadn’t come to work for her brother, she’d still be living as a prisoner, still believe there was no way out for her and Sofia. It was true that Sofia was gone, but that wasn’t Luca’s doing. And in some ways it had rallied a strength in her she hadn’t known she had and made her more determined than ever to fight.
He reached down into the sand, scooped up a handful, and let it sift through his fingers. “I should have found her by now. Brought her back to you.”
There was so much she wanted to say. So many things she wanted to ask. She had the feeling his sense of guilt wasn’t simply about Sofia. That he’d always taken on too much, made himself responsible for everything that happened around him. She had a feeling it had
something to do with his childhood, but he had yet to open up to her about it, or about anything having to do with his upbringing. She knew he’d had a rough time of it, that he’d been on his own until Nico took him into the Vitale crime family, but that was all he’d been willing to share. It hurt her heart to think of him bearing the burden alone, or worse, being too ashamed to tell her about his background, but she knew he would tell her when he was ready. Pushing him would only hurt him, and that was the last thing she would ever do.
“Luca…” She squeezed his arm. “This isn’t your fault. Haven’t Marco and Elia asked every source they have about Diego? Haven’t you?”
“That’s not the point,” he said, his jaw tightening.
“It is the point,” she insisted. “You’re doing all you can. It’s all anyone can expect.”
“It’s not enough.”
She got on her knees, turned his face toward her again, and tenderly kissed him. “It’s enough for me.”
He was careful at first, responding gently to her kiss, but a moment later she slipped her tongue into his mouth and he groaned, his hand snaking into the hair at the back of her neck as he tilted her head to take the kiss deeper. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her upper body against his, thrilling at the feel of his hard chest against her breasts, her nipples already taut, ready for his hands and mouth.
It was a kind of euphoria, the kind she only used to feel when she was doing something crazy — something that would make Diego mad and make her feel alive. But she hadn’t needed to do any of that since she’d met Luca. He made her feel all kinds of alive, lit a fire in the center of her body that burned only for him, that only grew larger and hotter each time her naked body was pressed against his. He was enough, but the memory of her former desperation made her want to do something unexpected just for the fun of it. Here there was no one to tell her she was behaving like a whore. No one to tell her she was acting crazy.
[2016] Muscle Page 17