For Luca (Chicago Syndicate Book 2) (4 page)

“What’s up, Luca?” she taunts without facing me.

“We need to talk.”

“Oh, so I have your attention, finally.” Kelli Ann stops and turns. Her eyes meet mine, and the corner of her lip twitches up.

Clasping my fingers around her arm, I steer us in the direction of the closest deserted alley. She gasps when I shove her against the wall, and an eager grin spreads across her face. I take her bag of food and place it on the ground, then I block her with both my arms and my body before she can reach for her gun under her blazer. “Alex Gentry?”

“I knew that case would interest you. Or better yet, the woman tied to that case. What’s her name again?”

She rubs herself against me, forcing me to step back quickly, but I keep my palms planted against the wall beside her ears.

Don’t say it.

“Why isn’t that case closed, Kelli Ann?” I demand in a low voice.

She straightens and moves in close to whisper in my ear. “Because you leave me no choice, Luca.”

What the fuck does that mean?

And she tries to kiss me, but I stop her by her shoulders. “What. Do. You. Want.”

“You. I can make the—”

“Did you write that note about her and plant it in Alex’s safe?”

“Her? Can’t you say her name? Who is Fallon Michaels to you?” she spits and continues in a vindictive tone when I remain quiet. “What, you think Alex wrote it? No, he wasn’t that smart. You need
me
to help
you
now. Usually it’s the other way around. I kind of dig it. I’ve been very lenient toward Miss Michaels, but I can make her an official suspect, DeMiliano.”

  I’ve had enough of this woman, so I spin her around roughly, snatch her handgun from the holster underneath her blazer, and press her body between mine and the wall while pointing her piece at her temple. “Do not threaten Fallon.” With my free hand, I push the side of her face against the wall and slide my thumb down the butt of the gun while exhaling a ragged breath to control my rage. “You have one week to clean up your mess, Collopy, or I will end you.” An idle threat since she’s law enforcement which would stir up too much trouble. Trouble James won’t accept. I push against her when she ignores me.

“Yes,” she whispers with a gasp.

Wiping my fingerprints from her handgun with my sleeve, I throw it next to her food and leave the alley to head directly home.

By the time I arrive at my penthouse, I’m absolutely furious. I can’t believe I’m still doing damage control for Fallon; she should’ve told me about the investigation.

***

Saturday night rolls around quickly, and I find myself across the street from Fallon’s apartment in my car. I’ve been preparing myself to talk to her calmly, and I hoped that I was ready to face her without needing an excessive amount of alcohol afterward to wipe her from my thoughts. However, I wasn’t ready to face what I’m witnessing now. She’s exquisite in a black lace dress as she steps from her apartment. A few people moving past her check her out, and as always, she’s oblivious to their attention. But then a guy walks out behind her, also exiting her apartment. My knuckles turn white from gripping the steering wheel while sweat moistens my palms. He places his hand on the small of her back and a red haze sweeps through my vision. I blink a few times to ensure my eyes aren’t deceiving me. She’s on a fucking date! I release my death grip and lean back, then I lean forward and rest my forehead on the steering wheel. The pure rage coursing through me practically incapacitates me. Leaning back again, I clutch my hair with one hand and watch her leave on a date with another man.

I contact Adriano. “She’s on a date.”

“Oh shit,” he replies. “Where are you? Don’t follow them, Luca. Talk to her another time.”

“I don’t know if I can stop myself from going after them.” After throwing the phone on the passenger seat, I cup my mouth harshly, brooding while stuck in this fucking car.

CHAPTER 6

Fallon

I’ve been home for a week and a half, and I’m beginning to annoy myself in my zombie-like state. I rarely return texts or calls from my friends and family and have only left the house once to get groceries. Nothing I do gives me an ounce of peace, and on top of that, I’m continually missing Luca. Even if I
could
forget him, he’s making it impossible. More than ten missed calls and messages are from him, the one man I’m trying to rid my mind of. 

When I saw him last Tuesday, I noticed he had stitches in his ear and scratches on his neck. Being close to him, feeling his warmth seep into mine when he embraced me was the only moment of peace I’ve experienced in weeks. It frightens me how quickly my intentions dissolve when I get too close to him. The best way to move on is to forget, and if I contact Luca, he’s just going to suck me back in. I’m simply not strong enough to resist him.

Detective Wade hasn’t contacted me, but that in no way lessens my worries about what they’re investigating. I contemplate whether or not to tell Luca every day. Maybe I should? Secretly, I’m hoping things will just die down. I’m not even under investigation. Maybe Alex actually wrote the note, and the Syndicate didn’t have anything to do with it. I’m inclined to believe that Luca has done nothing but help me. However, his helping me means that he’s eliminating all the threats, and that’s what scares me.

Monday – almost a week after seeing Luca last Tuesday – is the first day I don’t receive a message from him. And even though I never returned any of his messages, I’m still disappointed when he doesn’t try to contact me. My heart is saddened that he’s making an effort to let me go, but I keep in mind that it’s better this way.

I grab a bowl of cereal and plop down on the couch with my book, but after rereading the same passage a few times without absorbing the story, I close it and give up in search of the remote
.
I rarely watch TV. My reading obsession began when I was fairly young, but not even reading takes my mind off Luca, so I turn on the TV to TNT where some show with hilarious nineties special effects is on, and I just keep it on that channel while finishing my crunchy cereal. But an hour later, I'm engrossed in a paranormal series about three witches called
Charmed
, and I’m still in the exact same position on my couch. TNT shows the reruns back to back, and time actually passes fairly quickly while I watch three episodes.

That night, I’m sitting Indian style on my couch with my laptop, updating my résumé and applying for jobs. There aren’t many openings for copywriters, but I end up applying for two. My mother calls for the second time since yesterday, and I pick up so she doesn’t start to worry about me.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Sweetheart, I called you yesterday, didn’t you see?”

I haven’t told my parents or anyone else about losing my job. Not even Teagan. I’m just not in the mood to talk. “I guess I missed it, Mom.”

“You still sound sad. Are you okay?”

“I am still sad.” My mother knows that I miss Luca very much, but she doesn’t know the exact reason why we ended our relationship. “I miss him.”

“Honey, breaking up is always sad. It takes time to come to terms with your feelings. Why don’t you visit us this weekend? Being alone in that apartment can’t be good for you.”

“I can’t this weekend. Maybe next weekend.”

“Oh, do you already have plans this weekend then?” she asks, clearly disappointed.

“No, but I wanted to stay home.”

“Good, because I have a favor to ask you, and since you’re available this weekend, you can’t deny me. I know how you are, and you shouldn’t be stuck with your head in your books.” I can hear she’s smiling, even though she’s lecturing me.

I groan at how conniving my mother is because I honestly want to be alone. She used to do this all the time when I still lived at home and she needed a favor. “I haven’t read a book in almost two weeks,” I defend. Not even reading takes my mind off Luca. It’s the first time in years that I haven’t picked up a book and read at least a few pages daily.

“You know what I mean,” she chides. “Remember Jenny’s stepson, Evan?”

“Uhm…no.”

“Yes, you do. You two even went to the same high school.”

“Oh yeah. Evan…” I think Teagan had her eye on him for a while.

“Well, Evan moved to The Loop a week ago, and I thought it would be nice if you could show him around, or maybe have lunch or dinner with him?”

“Mom, I’m really not in the mood to entertain people.”

She attempts to persuade me. “Sweetie, it would be good for you to go out. And he doesn’t know anyone there except for his new colleagues.”

I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear and place my laptop on the coffee table. “Fine.” But I don’t feel comfortable giving him my phone number. “Tell him to e-mail me.”

“I’ll give him your contact info.”

“My e-mail address, Mom, only my e-mail.”

“Yes, only your e-mail address,” she placates. “And keep me posted.”

“Okay.”

***

On Saturday night, I’m ready to meet Evan. He e-mailed me Thursday, and I suggested that we have lunch this afternoon, but he’s been working overtime all week at his new job, and he even had to work today. He offered to take me to dinner, which I was reluctant to accept because dinner on Saturday night might be misconstrued as a date. However, he was so nice and respectful in our e-mail exchange that I decided to accept.

I actually look more like my old self again in my simple, sleeveless, black wrap-around dress. I stroke my hand over the blemish-free skin on my legs in front of the floor-length mirror in my bedroom. My bruises and scratches have finally faded, becoming a distant, unreal memory. I have two new scars on my knees that will always remind me of the night I was kidnapped, the night that killed my relationship with Luca. The doorbell interrupts my thoughts before they can wander to him. I push the button to verify it’s Evan.

“It’s Evan,” he announces.

“Come on up.”

After grabbing my phone from the bedroom, I reach the door just in time for Evan’s knock. “Hi, Evan. Let me get my purse, and then we can go.” I try my best to look welcoming to this man who appears tired but is still handsome in his casual business attire. Evan is half Indonesian, which gives him a gorgeous skin tone.

“Hey, Fallon. I remember you.” He hands me a box of chocolates. “For you. Thanks for meeting up with me.”

“Dark chocolates are my favorite.” Taking the box, I switch it for my purse on the table. “I remember you too.” I lock my front door and make sure the apartment entrance door falls closed when we step out.

“Are you hungry? What do you want to eat?” I increase my pace to avoid his touch when he places his hand on my back.

“I’m starving. Italian?” he suggests. “My favorite cuisine.”

Of course, Italian. “Yeah, it’s my favorite too,” I murmur.

Dinner is surprisingly pleasant and conversation flows freely. We reminisce about high school; he remembers Teagan but doesn’t reveal anything further. And I have to admit, my mother was right; a night out has been much nicer than sulking around my house. But after dessert, I’m ready to call it a night. Being cooped up at home has made me lazy. I need to start running again.

To my annoyance, Evan walks me to my front door, when I actually wanted to say goodbye outside. He leans in closer to press his lips to mine, and for a moment, our lips touch, but I place my hand on his chest to put some distance between us – all I can think about is a certain Italian man kissing me.

“Just friends,” I offer, smiling.

Evan’s very easygoing and shrugs. “Okay.” He throws me a wink and turns to exit the building.

After entering my apartment, I take off my heels and drop down on the couch. My gaze strays to the door when a knock startles me.

Please let him have a question he forgot to ask.

I swing the door open and am greeted by a pair of unrecognizably hard green eyes, so I slam it shut instantly, but his hand shoots out and blocks the doorway without difficulty.

“Did you have fun on your date?” Luca’s jaw clenches in unrestrained anger.

“Luca, go.” I push against his arm, but he doesn’t budge.

“No.” He takes a step into the doorway, and his face lowers to mine. “Did he kiss you?”

It takes all my strength to meet his eyes and stay silent as his heavy breathing is hot on my face. His cologne ignites my memories, and even though dark circles of exhaustion surround his eyes, he still exudes power. I can tell that he’s battling for control; control that I’m aching to succumb to as his closeness pushes back my determination. He hasn’t shaved, and I yearn to caress my fingers over his jaw and press my lips to his to taste them again.

As he kicks the door shut behind him, Luca edges me back inside the apartment until my behind reaches the couch, and his stare drifts to my mouth.
My heartbeat thunders in my chest, and my breathing becomes shallow as his eyes leave my lips and clash with mine, refusing to release me from his hold.