Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Luca
I should have trusted Ariana and told her everything. But I let my fear of her thinking I was a monster take over. It wasn’t only because of what I’d done but also how I felt about it. I sat at the bar and drank while trying to figure out what I would do. I’d hurt her again, and this time, I couldn’t afford that since she was my lawyer. Fuck. What had I done? Pulling my phone from my pocket, I dialed her number, and she declined my call, so I texted her.
“Ariana, please. I need to explain everything to you.”
I patiently waited for a reply. Nothing. Those three little dots shrouded inside a bubble never appeared. I couldn’t blame her. I’d be pissed too if it was my client. I just never dreamed that bitch, Wendy Graham, would pull a stunt like that. I had no clue how she even found out. My records were expunged, and my last name was different. That right there raised my suspicion. She was going after me to destroy me for all the clients I got off and the cases she lost that made her look bad. I ordered one more drink and then looked at my watch, which read eight o’clock. I needed Ariana to understand, and I was going to make her listen.
I arrived at her apartment and lightly knocked on the door. She didn’t answer, so I knocked a little harder.
“Ariana, open up!”
“I can’t talk to you right now, Luca. Please, just go.”
I closed my eyes and rested my forehead against the door. If she wouldn’t let me in, then she’d have to listen from the other side.
“I was fifteen years old, and my father was an abusive alcoholic who beat on me and my mom for years. I did what I had to do to save my mother’s life.”
Ariana
I sat on the floor with my head against the door and listened to the pain that resided in his voice. As angry as I was at him, I couldn’t let him stand in the hallway for all the neighbors to hear. I stood up, turned the lock, and opened the door.
“Come on in,” I softly spoke.
He stepped inside my apartment with his head lowered and his hands tucked into his pants pockets.
“He came home drunk that night. Instead of coming home for dinner, he went to the bar after his shift ended. After my mom and I ate, she told me to go upstairs and finish my homework while she cleaned up. I offered to help her, and she told me no. It was as if she knew he would start the minute he walked through the door. I heard him walk in about an hour later, and the screaming started. Then I heard dishes being broken and my mom's cries telling him to stop. She had always told me that when things got bad like that with them, I was to stay put and not get involved. So, I stayed upstairs and prayed that it would be over soon.”
I sat down on the couch while he paced back and forth, reliving that awful night.
“You could see our living room from the stairs, and I saw him drag her by her hair across the floor. She begged him to let go, but he would pull her hair harder each time she cried out. He was drunk and was screaming obscenities at her. Calling her a whore and all kinds of other horrible names. My mother had never been brave enough to stand up to him, but on that night, she said something I never thought she’d say.”
“What did she say?” I asked.
He turned and looked at me, and the sadness in his eyes overwhelmed me.
“When he finally let her go, after kicking her in the ribs before walking away, she looked at him and said, ‘I’ve had enough, and you will never hurt me or my son again.’ He turned around, picked up a pillow from the couch, and started smothering her with it. I ran to their bedroom, got one of his guns from the top shelf in his closet, loaded it, and ran downstairs. I pointed it at him and told him to stop and let her go. I’ll never forget the anger and rage in his eyes when he turned around and glared at me. He got up, threw the pillow on the floor, and came after me, telling me that I was next. I pulled the trigger two times, and he went down. My mother looked at me in shock as she sat on the floor with tears running down her face and her hand cupped over her mouth. When I went over to him, he was still alive. I pulled his phone from his pocket with my shaking hand and went to dial 911. Before I knew it, my mom had gotten off the floor and grabbed my phone. ‘He deserves to die,’ she said. A few moments later, he was dead, and then she called my grandfather, who called 911.”
I swallowed hard as the tears I fought to hold back came rushing from my eyes. He stood a few feet away from where I was sitting and looked at me. There was no expression on his face, and his stare was blank. I got up from the couch and wrapped my arms around him, laying my head on his chest. It took a few moments, but he finally embraced me. His grip around me was tight, as if he was afraid to let me go.
“I’m so sorry, Luca,” I whispered.
“Do you want to know the worst part?” he asked.
“What?” I asked as I lifted my head.
“I never regretted doing it, and I was happy he was dead. Now you know what kind of monster I really am.”
“No.” I brought my hand up to his face. “You’re not a monster. You did what you had to do to save your mom and yourself.”
“But I didn’t have one ounce of remorse.”
I held his hand, led him to the couch, and climbed on his lap.
“He abused you and your mom. You ended the nightmare you lived in, and if it was me, I’m not sure that I’d have any remorse either.”
He ran his hand along my cheek as he spoke, “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you. I never wanted you to find out what I had done. I didn’t want you to see me as someone who took another person’s life. You’re special to me, Ariana. I think about you all the time, and I always want to be with you.”
“Then why did you let me go? You acted like it was no big deal. That I was just another woman you got sick of.”
“That’s not true. Letting you quit the firm and walking out of your life like I did was out of fear. I knew from the first moment I looked up from Lisa’s desk and saw you standing there that you were different. I’d never felt what I did inside at that very moment. But I couldn’t allow myself to get too attached to you because I feared being like him. That I’d lose control, and anger would overtake me as it did my father. That’s what I meant when I told you that I was protecting you.”
“You’re nothing like him, Luca. If you were, you wouldn’t have pulled that trigger. Don’t you get it? You were protecting your mom. You’re a protector, not an abuser. You protect the people you love. You don’t hurt them.”
“I’m sorry if I hurt you,” he whispered as his thumb swept over my lips. “Would you ever be able to find it in your heart to forgive me?”
“I do forgive you, Luca.” My lips brushed against his.
“I’m so sorry.” He hugged me.
“It’s okay. I understand now.”
He broke our embrace and kissed my lips.
“Thank you for understanding. I need you to know how important you are to me.” His hand caressed my cheek.
I brought my hand to his face and smiled as our eyes stayed locked on each other.
“Now.” I jumped up from his lap. “We have some serious work to do to prove you did not murder Gina Burroughs, and we don’t have much time.”
“I told you that you should have objected to that,” he said.
“It’s fine. I work better under pressure, anyway. Oh, and by the way, I really like you too.” I smiled.
A smile crossed his lips. The captivating smile that I’d missed and was happy to see again. He got up from the couch, swooped me up in his arms, and carried me to the bedroom.
“We can work later.” He smirked.
“I was hoping you’d say that.”