14. Chapter 14
fourteen
Bianca
L ucas left to drive my vehicle a couple blocks away to a garage with no security cameras so no one would see me when I eventually needed to leave.
I didn’t understand why, but Mark was clearly trying to keep his distance from me. I didn’t want to say it, especially after spending most of the morning convincing him I was all in, but maybe it was for the best. I was still trying to get past the Romeo and Juliet of it all.
If Mark was pulling away from me, maybe I should let him. I survived without him once before. Somehow I’d survive without him and my family both if I needed to. It would be the worst outcome for me, but the best for him. But how could I take advantage of the distance without putting him in further danger?
Mark already had an threat hanging over his head just for working this case, but if my dad—hell, even my uncle—found out we were together, I was afraid of how quickly that threat would turn into something worse. Mark was convinced they were both violent murderers. I trusted Mark, so I had to trust that his life was in danger for loving me.
It didn’t feel safe in the apartment, but it also didn’t feel safe to leave. What if I was seen? If word got back that I was the woman Mark was dating, they’d want retribution. Pretty damn immediately, too.
“Do you want a bag to put your shirt from yesterday in?” he asked. I was still in his borrowed tee and hoodie to protect my identity, though I'd traded his boxers for my old skirt. “I might have something…somewhere.”
“No, thank you,” I said, as polite and formal as I could manage when he was trying to get all traces of me out of there. It was for the best. “I can fit everything in my tote.”
He nodded. “I’m gonna do another sweep of the place, make sure we’re not forgetting everything.”
“Okay.” My voice came out in an almost whisper. I cleared my throat to try again. “Okay. Take your time.” I sat down in my seat—no, not my seat, just a normal seat—on the couch with my bag in my hands, waiting silently while Mark paced back and forth across the living room checking every nook and cranny.
He was clearly agitated and not trying to hide it.
“Are you sure you don’t need anything before we go?” he asked. “Want a glass of water, to use the restroom?”
I shook my head. I’d hold it if I did to get out of his hair.
“Are you sure you have everything? Think you’ll need to come back for…anything?”
“No, I have everything.”
He looked past me as he fought the agitation back, forcing his lips in a straight line as he tried to tamp it down.
“Then let’s get out of here.”
I nodded, biting my lip so he wouldn’t see it tremble. I could remain strong through this.
He gestured in front of him for me to start down the stairs first and I held in the tears. Just a short while ago he offered to give me a piggyback ride up these same steps. At the store, he had his arm wrapped around my back, holding me close the entire time. Now he wasn’t even standing close enough to hold my hand.
It’s for the best, I reminded myself again and headed down the stairs. I pulled the strings on my hoodie tight, the hood closing around my face to obscure my features in case we ran into anyone.
We made it downstairs and into his sedan before Mark spoke to me again.
“Was the break-in the tipping point? My work is too dangerous?” No, my family was.
“Yes,” I said, wiping a tear off my cheek. I couldn’t keep them all in after all.
“Okay,” he said, patting my thigh lightly. “I understand. But you can still call me for anything.”
We tried that already. It just led to more heartache.
“I can call someone else if it’s easier that way.”
“No, I want you to call me, but I get it if it’s easier for you to call someone else.”
“I’ll always want to call you, Mark. But if you’re done with this, it’s probably better for a clean break.”
He’d just put the car in drive, but he slammed on the brakes, the car only about a foot from its original parking space.
“If I’m done with this? You think I want to end things?”
I waited a couple of seconds before responding to make sure I understood his words.
“You’ve been quiet, avoiding looking at me. You were trying to get all my stuff out of the apartment and make sure I wouldn’t need to come back!”
“I’ve been quiet, avoiding looking to see how badly you wish you never agreed to give us a chance. I was trying to give you a chance to have a reason to come back. A reason to stay.”
“Why wouldn’t I want to stay?” I asked him softly, accepting the hand he held out to me. I held it in both of my smaller ones, leaning forward to hold our clasped hands to my chest. When would he get it? “This heart has been breaking the last half hour I thought you were pulling away from me. I was going along with it because I don’t want you to get hurt for loving me.”
He used his free hand to throw the car in park. “You’re worried about me getting hurt?”
“Of course! Do you really think you’ll live long enough to put everyone behind bars if they learn the truth? Can you imagine what my father would do to you if he found out we were fraternizing?”
“I risk my life for my job every day. It’s nothing new for me. I don’t give a shit about me if I can’t be with you, Bianca Rose Morelli.” My heart stuttered as he used my full name. There was no hiding who I was; Mark saw all of my baggage and wanted every single piece. “Being without you hurts anyway, so why not enjoy the time we have together for as long as we can?”
He was right; it did hurt being without him. I survived, went through the motions of my daily life for six weeks, but every moment apart was miserable. I could justify my own unhappiness, but never Mark’s. He deserved to have so much freaking joy in his life.
“I love you, Bee. You’re it for me. My life is better with you in it. You have to know that, right?”
I did know it. I felt it. And he was right: the horrors of everyday life weren’t worth it if he wasn’t by my side. If he was just as miserable without me, why was I bothering to keep us apart?
“You’re being Marky Poppins again,” I said, shaking my head. He chuckled, leaning over to plant a kiss on the top of my head. Heh. “I’m still in if you are.”
“I’m in,” he assured me. “If you want me to trust your feelings for me, you have to do the same. There’s no way you’re getting rid of me that easy, Bianca Rose.”
My lip trembled again, but this time the wave of emotion was contentment.
He faced the road again, and we made it to the garage without another word spoken, parking between a minivan and a two-seater sports car. It amused me to think both vehicles belonged to the same family: the practical one for the mom to drop the kids off at school, and the I-have-a-small-penis-so-I’m-overcompensating one for the dad to take to work. Stereotypical, sure, but imagining a nuclear family in San Francisco was an unconventional route in the first place.
Lucas jarred me out of my little daydream when he met me at my door, opening it for me and offering his hand to help me out of the vehicle.
“Your license plate is in your trunk, along with the screws and a screwdriver,” he said, gesturing to my car parked across the row and a couple of spaces over. “Put it back on when you get home, alright? If by shitty divine intervention you’re pulled over for not having a plate, have the officer call me and I’ll take care of it, alright?”
I nodded and shook his outstretched hand. I glanced over at Mark, leaning against the hood of his car with his arms crossed, looking so handsome I forgot why I was going home in the first place. Why would I ever leave Mark’s side if I didn’t have to?
“Weren’t we supposed to play hooky today?” I called back to him.
He smirked over at me, looking sexy and casual in such a confident pose.
“That was before. I have a shit-ton of paperwork now with the break-in and everything.”
“Make it a half day?” I asked, batting my eyelashes at him. I felt silly, but then I saw the way his Adam’s apple bobbed, a hungry look lighting his eyes on fire. “I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”
“Yes, let’s just pretend I’m not here,” Lucas muttered. I shot him an apologetic grin, but I wasn’t really all that sorry. It was important that Mark knew how freaking in I was with him, so if flirting with him in front of his friend was how I could show it, then I had no problems with that.
I met Mark's eyes again, seeing the amusement sparkling there; he knew what I was doing. He tipped his chin up at me in a come here gesture, so I ran back over to his side and threw myself into his arms.
“Kiss me?” I asked, standing on my tiptoes so I could reach him easier.
“My pleasure,” he said, pressing his lips hard to mine.
It wasn’t just a kiss for show. He shifted his lips ever so slightly so he held my bottom lip between his own, his tongue peeking out to wet my flesh. I shuddered, suddenly wishing we didn’t have an audience after all.
When he pulled back I asked again, more softly, “Meet you at home after you finish your paperwork?”
I only needed enough time to run home and get a few changes of clothes and pack some toiletries. I’d be back where I belonged soon enough, and I wanted Mark there with me. He smiled softly down at me.
“It’ll probably just be a couple hours. Here. Take my key and meet me there. We’ll make you your own copy later.”
I took the key he offered and slipped it on my key chain, grateful that he knew when I said “home” I meant his place. My loft wasn’t home anymore. Anywhere he couldn’t be would never be home.
“Sounds like a plan,” I said as I took a step back. Our arms stretched so our fingers touched as long as possible while I stepped away toward my Audi.
Another vehicle turned down our row in the parking garage, so I waited a moment before crossing to the other line of cars, retracing my steps back to Mark when I noticed the car was driving way too fast for an enclosed area. Mark grabbed my hand again, squeezing tightly in affection as I stepped back to his side.
I tried to hide my smile. This funny, adorable, sweet man was totally right: even the littlest gestures made me smile, and being happy was always better than being miserable.
I looked into his eyes to tell him I loved him again—I could never say it enough—but the casual grin on his face morphed into urgency before I could say a word. His fingers gripping my hand turned harsh as he dragged me around the side of his car, throwing me to the pavement. I didn’t register the loud noises echoing through the garage as gunfire until Mark was already on top of me, shielding me with his body while the passing car sped the rest of the way down the ramp and out of sight.
I could feel Mark scrambling for his gun with one hand, the other arm wrapped around my head, but it was too late. I could hear the screech of burning rubber from the level below us, and then nothing at all. The shooter was gone.
I heard Lucas’s frenzied movements on the other side of the car as Mark pulled me up to a sitting position. He patted me frantically with his free hand, trying to feel for any injuries.
“I’m fine,” I told him, holding his worried face in my hands. “I’m okay.”
He nodded, but the worry lines didn’t leave his face. “Luke! You hit?”
“I’m good,” Lucas called over as he rounded the car toward us. “You two?”
Mark looked back over at me to confirm what he already knew. “We’re good. There’s no fucking cameras in this garage. Did you get a good look at him?”
Lucas shook his head and Mark cursed, but my brain was catching up with everything. I’d seen the driver through the windshield before I turned to look at Mark.
“I did,” I volunteered. I made my decision, and now I was going to reinforce it. I’d go on record against a crime with this case. “Dark hair, maybe black? Brown skin, either Latino or really tanned. Sharp features, maybe mid-twenties?”
Mark felt around for his notebook, taking notes once he found it.
“Could you identify him again if you saw him?” Lucas asked. I nodded.
“I think so? I only saw him for like a second.”
“Is this him?” he asked, pulling up a photo on his phone of a police officer in a uniform.
I grabbed the phone, zooming in on the face. It was a cocky looking white guy with a deep tan. “It’s possible. Why would you think it’s him?” Why a police officer?
“This is a dirty cop, Theo Gates, who we’ve been tracking for his part in tampering with evidence and helping a fugitive escape our precinct, among other things,” Mark said.
“We’ve been trying to catch a lead on him,” Lucas added. “Figured we could flip him and get some good info out of him when we did. Guess he found us first.”
“And now we know who’s getting their hands dirty for Morelli,” Mark continued, looking over at me.
The man who just tried to kill us had been on the other side of Mark’s apartment door last night, shoving pictures under his door. He broke into Mark’s apartment after we snuck out early morning, meaning he’d been watching all night long. Someone really wanted to hurt Mark and his loved ones.
I looked at the sports car behind me. I could see the bullet holes in the door frame, the broken windows. Either the shooter had bad aim, or he was aiming for stomach level exactly where I was standing. This was a hit trying to kill off Mark’s supposed baby in the fucking womb.
And that shooter was hired by my blood family.
I turned around and gagged, but had nothing in my system to throw up. The stomach acid burned my throat, the sting of betrayal I felt for believing in my father for so long literally eating at my insides, deteriorating my esophagus along with my soul.
Mark could have died here. He could have lived and instead seen me die. The shooter, Theo Gates or whoever else, wanted to kill off Mark’s pregnant girlfriend, destroying his whole family in a few bullets.
And Mark and Lucas were being stupid ; courting danger trying to catch someone devoted to my father? To what, turn on him and spill his secrets? Go back in and wear a wire?
No wonder they were getting nowhere. Even if they managed to flip this Theo person, my father would never let someone outside of family close enough to their operation without a damn good reason for them to stay trustworthy. Theo would never be privy to any truly damaging information.
Hell, my father spied on me and waited until after I proved my loyalty to even broach the idea of getting me involved in the business. He built a steel wall around himself, insulated in the protection of Family First. No one could get past that.
Unless someone pure, someone with unquestionable loyalty, was swayed to the side of the good guys. I knew what needed to happen.
Carlo Morelli, my father, gave the go ahead for someone to shoot at the man I loved, and I wouldn’t let him have a second chance at it. He needed to be put away where he couldn’t hurt anyone else ever again.
I’d wear the damn wire myself and get the evidence Mark needed. He was going to be pissed.