Of Blood and Bone (25 page)

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Authors: Courtney Cole

Tags: #Romance, #Adult, #Contemporary

BOOK: Of Blood and Bone
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I am not surprised.  I remember her chilling voice as she begged me to do it. I nod even though he can’t see me.

“I knew she would try,” I admit to him.  “I told Adrian.”

“I knew, as well,” Luca tells me.  “We tried to prevent it, to watch her around the clock, but Sophia isn’t a machine and mother wouldn’t allow anyone else near her.”

“Sophia must feel horrible,” I say. 

“She does,” Luca answers.  “But it wasn’t her fault.”

I don’t voice the unspeakable; that Melina is at peace now, that she can no longer torture herself, that she can no longer torment Luca.  Instead, I simply agree with him. 

“No,” I answer.  “It is certainly not Sophia’s fault.  When is the funeral?”

“Day after tomorrow, at the cathedral in town.  But you don’t have to come.”

Pain shoots through me at his words; it feels like yet another rejection.

“Of course I’ll come,” I tell him.  “I’d like to say goodbye to you in person, anyway.  I’m leaving for home next week.”

There is silence, painful and empty.

Finally he speaks.

“That is how it should be,” he says, his voice smooth and devoid of emotion.

“I’ll see you in a couple of days,” I tell him, trying not to cry.

“Until then,” he answers and then the phone goes dead.  I hold it in my hands for the longest time before I lay it down.

The next day passes woodenly, as though I am simply treading water until I see him again.  I’m both looking forward to it and dreading it, because I know it will be for the last time. 

The morning of the funeral, I dress in a simple black sheath dress and pull my hair into a knot at my neck.  I carry with me a bouquet of flowers from my own garden.  I take the bus into town and arrive to find that the cathedral is packed full of people from Valletta.  Apparently, because the Minaldis are so prominent in this town, everyone wanted to show their respect.  Marianne waves to me and I make my way to sit at her side.

The mass is a normal funeral service.  I spend most of it staring at the family pew.  Luca is there in a somber black suit, along with his brothers.  I still would have known they were brothers even if I hadn’t seen them together.  They look very much alike.  Damien and Luca could practically pass as twins, while Christoph looks like them, but is just an inch or two shorter.

When the service is over, the priest announces that there will be no public interment and that everyone is free to mingle in the community rooms beneath the church.  I swallow hard.  It is time to say goodbye to Luca.

I steel myself. I can do this.  I’ve done everything on my own in this life.  I can do this.

I wait for a while until Luca appears to be done chatting with well-wishers.  He retreats to a back corner and sits, comfortable in the shadows.  He meets my eyes and I walk to him, my legs shaky. 

“Hi,” he greets me softly.  I long to reach out and hold his hand, but he doesn’t move toward me, so I don’t.  I sit next to him instead.  We are alone over here, alone in a crowded room.  There is no one near. 

“I’m sorry,” I tell him.  “I’m sorry for everything.  For your mom, that I couldn’t help her, that I couldn’t help you….”

My voice trails off and he stares at me. 

“After everything, you’re apologizing to me?”  He’s incredulous now.  “What have I done to you?  Have I truly taken a strong, independent woman and turned her into someone who apologizes for things that she hasn’t done?  This isn’t you, Eva.”

I sniff, fighting back tears once again. 

“My hormones have been crazy,” I admit to him.  “Because of the pregnancy and losing the pregnancy.  It seems like all I can do is cry lately. I’m sorry.”

His eyes soften now and he looks away.

“I’m the one who is sorry,” he finally says, turning to meet my gaze once again.  “I never meant to hurt you.  I never want that.”

“What will you do now?” I ask.  “I hope that you let someone try to help, even if it can’t be me.”

The words are difficult to say, because I so much want to be the one who helps him. 

He studies me for a moment, then looks at his hands. 

“I’m going on an extended trip,” he says quietly.  “I love to sail and it’s been a long time since I’ve been.  Adrian and I are leaving tonight.  I can’t hurt anyone on the water, away from the civilized world.”

“So, you’re just going to run?” I ask bitterly.  “You’re going to hide away from the world, isolating yourself again?”

He shrugs, his shoulders elegant.  “I don’t know what else to do.”

Let me help!
  I want to scream.  But I don’t.  It would be a waste of time and dignity.  He’s made up his mind. 

“I wish things had been different,” I whisper instead.  He nods.

“I do, too.”

He reaches out now and grasps my hand, enveloping mine with his larger one.  He is warm and strong and I ache to melt into his body.  I know, from the way he is staring at me with such stormy, dark eyes that he wishes nothing but the same. 

“Please, Luca,” I whisper. 

I don’t know exactly what I’m begging for. 

Everything, I guess.  Everything and nothing. 

Luca stares at me for a moment longer, then gets to his feet, still holding my hand.  He leads me through the crowds of people, ignoring the curious stares.  He winds up the back staircases of the church, and through a hallway to a room upstairs.  It’s a side room and I can tell that it isn’t used very often.  I look at Luca questioningly.  How did he even know it was here?  He senses my question.

“I was an altar boy,” he says as he closes the door.  “I know this church like the back of my hand.”

He turns to me and lifts me up, his mouth closing in on mine.  It’s hot and needy and electric. 

“I can’t stay away from you,” he growls into my neck.  “Even though I know I should.”

“I know,” I whisper.  My hands are in his hair, driving his head into my chest, into my neck.  I want him everywhere, I want his taste, his touch, his tongue.  I just want him.  All around us, there is a lingering, overwhelming sense of sadness.  We know that this will be the last time and it makes us ache.

He lifts me against the wall, pushing into me.  There is no foreplay, because we don’t need it.  We only need each other.

When I whimper, he gently covers my mouth with his hand and stares into my eyes.  He rocks with me until I feel him explode.  He quivers against me and then stills, still clutching me to his chest. 

After a moment, he slides me to the ground.

“I love you.” His words are soft and quiet in this reverent place. 

For the first time, I acknowledge that we just had sex in a church.  I should feel guilty, but I don’t.  I doubt that God cares.

“I love you, too,” I answer, grasping his hand as if I can make him stay with me.  But I can’t.  Finality is in the air between us.  We are over and we both know it.  All that is left is the goodbye. The very worst part. 

Luca fastens his pants and adjusts his suit jacket. 

“Please be happy,” he says and his voice is choked.  He bends and brushes a soft kiss on my forehead.  I fight back tears as I nod, unable to speak and he wrenches his gaze from mine.  He leaves and doesn’t look back. 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Thirty-Four

 

 

 

 

I don’t remember walking through the church or the bus ride home.  Everything is a blur as my emotions numb my body and my heart.  I feel like I’m in shock and I probably am. 

I get off the bus down the road from my house and walk the rest of the way, one foot in front of the other.  When I get to the house, I find that I don’t want to go in.

But I also don’t want to go to Marianne’s.  I don’t really want company.  Instead, I walk along the beach for a while, my shoes in my hand.  I sit on the sand and stare at the water, burying my toes in the white beach, trying to ignore the pain in my heart. 

No one dies from heartbreak
, I remind myself.  I should know.  I lived through it years ago.

I honestly don’t know how long I sit like this, zoned out and staring at the water.  But eventually, after an hour or two, I grow cold.  I walk back to my cottage and make my way up the path to my door.  As I do, I see something propped against it. 

An envelope.

Curiously, I pick it up and take it inside so I can see it in the light.

It’s from the lab where I sent Luca’s blood-work. 

I rip it open and pull it out, my hands shaking in anticipation.  And then I almost drop the paper. 

The chemical components of his blood are all normal.  But that’s not the interesting part. 

On a whim, I had decided to have his blood tested for drugs.  And it is positive for several things. Enough things, actually, that the lab manager compiled a letter to accompany the results, explaining what the poisonous components likely are.   

There are very slight trace amounts of a poison with the chemical makeup of Nightshade, a naturally growing and very fatal plant.  There is heavy evidence of recent use of Rohypnol, more commonly known as the Date Rape drug.  Components of Angel’s Trumpet are there too, a strong hallucinogen that is known to put a person in a zombie-like state, able to function but unable to remember it afterward. 

He was drugged.

My breathing is coming in pants now as I finish reading.

There is a heavy presence of several other naturally growing herbs, all of which are known to cause violence and aggression when used in excess.  I stare at the incriminating words on the white page, so astounded that they practically blur together.

Luca has been poisoned. 

I sink to the floor as I ponder what this means.  Is he not cursed at all?  There is no strange, dark affliction, only drugging?  I know that he didn’t do this to himself.  He wouldn’t.  These poisons are very, very dangerous and Nightshade alone can kill with even a small amount.  Angel’s Trumpet is highly fatal as well.   Since only a trace is found in his blood, whoever has been drugging him is skilled. They know what to give him to produce exactly the reactions that they want to see without lethally overdosing him. 

Who has access to him?  Who would do this to him?

Adrian. 

The name and face spill into my mind immediately, although I don’t know why he would do it.  But he is the only one who has round the clock access to Luca.  He’s the only one that Luca trusts completely and absolutely. 

He’s like a brother to me
, Adrian had said.  I fell for it.  Luca fell for it.  Everyone fell for it because Adrian carries it off perfectly.  He is perfectly charming, perfectly friendly.  He’s very skilled at portraying that image.  

I can’t breathe now. 

Luca is about to leave on an isolated trip with Adrian.

Tonight.

I pull out my cell phone with shaking hands and dial his number.

No answer.

I leave a voicemail and try again.

No answer, so I leave another frantic voicemail.

Oh my god.

Oh my god.

Oh my god.

Without thinking, I run out the back doors and down the path to the beach and then I’m flying as fast as my legs will take me toward Chessarae. 

I am not a runner, so I don’t know how I even make it without hyperventilating, but I do.  I keep going because I know that since Luca runs this route, it is possible.  I keep going because I have to.  I race along the beaches, trails and roads until I reach the front doors of Chessarae.  I ring the bell, then double over, trying to catch my breath. 

Christoph answers and he studies me curiously as I struggle to breathe.

“Luca,” I manage to get out.  “Can I see Luca?”

Christoph smiles apologetically.

“I’m so sorry, miss,” he tells me.  “Luca has left for a trip.  Can I help you with something?”

It is several more minutes before I am able to breathe well enough to partially explain who I am, who I am to Luca, and why I am here right now.  By the time I am finished, Christoph’s tanned face has leached of color and he is as pale as paper.

“Come in,” he tells me, ushering me through the house to Luca’s study.  He settles me into a chair, hands me a bottle of water and then leaves. 

“I’ll be right back,” he tells me over his shoulder.  He returns scant moments later with Damien, his older brother. 

Damien looks so much like Luca that it takes my breath away when he walks through the door. He introduces himself and I re-tell everything that I’ve just explained to Christoph.  When I am finished, Damien is the same pale shade of white. 

“This can’t be,” he mumbles.  He shakes his head and pours himself a Scotch, then one for Christoph and me. 

“Why would he do it?” I ask as I gulp at it.  I can hear Christoph on his phone.  I don’t know who he is talking to, but he’s requesting boats.  Fast ones.  

A search expedition. 

“We can’t call the police,” I tell Damien.  “We can’t.”

Because we can’t have them investigating Luca’s involvement in the girls’ murders.
 

Even though I don’t want to think that way, I have to protect Luca.  He wasn’t himself when he blacked out, but I’m not sure that a court would believe that.  I’m not familiar with Maltese law at all.  I don’t know if they have a temporary insanity plea and I don’t want to chance it right now. 

“Don’t worry,” Damien tells me.  “We have extensive resources.  We’ll handle it ourselves.  We’ll find him.”

“Why would Adrian do this?” I ask, my heart still numb. 

“I don’t know,” Damien admits.  “I just don’t know.”

“Luca told me that the Leopoldos have always worked for your family,” I say.  “How far back?”

Damien thinks on that and Christoph pipes up from behind him.

“Generations,” he says.  “Generations ago, our great-great-great grandfathers started our shipping business together.  It was known as Leopoldo-Minaldi Shipping back then.  But apparently, Enzo Leopoldo had a really bad gambling problem.  He lost everything he had and Lucien Minaldi- which incidentally, is who Luca is named for, bought out his shares.  That’s the story, anyway.  Apparently, they had a deal that the Minaldis would always employ the Leopoldos.  As the years passed, they began to work for us here at Chessarae rather than at the business.”

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