5. Lorenzo
5
LORENZO
M y eyes fly open and every muscle in my body tenses as my heart thuds painfully against my chest. What the…
Another loud knock brings me to my senses and in a flash, I remember I’m in my car, staking out Florence’s apartment. I had the driver take me to my house last night where I immediately got into my own vehicle and broke about ten traffic laws to get to Florence’s place so I could look after her for the night.
“Are you going to open up?”
I blink against the bright sunlight beating down on me through the windows, then recognize the angel with a halo of red hair surrounding her face. Florence is silhouetted by the unrelenting desert sun, making her appear even more angelic than usual.
I check the clock on the dashboard, blinking a few times when I realize how late in the day it is. Nearly noon. I’m thankful it’s Saturday and Florence is here instead of at work. God, I can’t believe I fell asleep. Anything could have happened while I was dozing off.
After straightening my back and rolling out the kinks in my neck, I open the door and step out of my car. Florence stares up at me, the look in her emerald eyes equal parts confusion and suspicion.
“Were you here all night?” she finally asks. I nod. Florence narrows her eyes at me before asking, “How many times have you parked outside my apartment?”
“This was the first time.” Her gaze turns decidedly skeptical. “I was worried about you,” I tell her in a hushed tone. I don’t know why I’m whispering but I feel incredibly vulnerable admitting that out loud.
The goddess standing before me relaxes her stance. It’s then I notice she’s holding a thermos of what I assume is coffee and a paper plate with a bagel on it. God, coffee sounds amazing. Food would be good, too. I didn’t have anything to eat last night and I’m starving. Did she make breakfast? That has to be a good sign. She might not fully trust me yet, but at least she doesn’t hate me.
Florence hands the thermos and bagel to me, but right before I can grab them, she snatches them away. I frown at her, which makes the enchanting woman laugh. Her eyes light up and her entire face glows with joy as her sweet laughter fills the air.
I love the sound. Way too much. I can't think of a time anyone laughed at me and lived to tell the tale but with Florence… Jesus, I'd make a fool out of myself every day if it means she'll smile at me like this again.
“Not so fast,” she says, holding her chin up as she takes a few steps backward toward her building. “I need answers.”
I sigh and eventually nod my head, motioning toward her home so we can talk more privately. Florence waits for me to step up next to her, then we walk across the parking lot, side by side. I can’t say for sure, but I think she likes having me around. Or, at the very least, she trusts that I’ll protect her from any threat.
While I’ve known her address for several days now - for security reasons, of course, I’ve never looked inside. I was telling her the truth when I said last night was the first time I parked outside her building.
I have to duck under the door frame as we walk inside, and my head nearly brushes the ceiling once I’m standing in her living room. Or, rather, the only room in her apartment. My automatic response is to scan the space for any threats, and I’m pleased to see the coast is clear.
While observing the small apartment, I notice a couch, a coffee table, a small kitchenette, and… not much else.
“Where’s your bed?” I blurt out.
Florence’s jaw drops before she snaps it shut and glares at me. “I didn’t invite you in to sleep with me,” she spits out.
“What? No, I didn’t mean it like that,” I’m quick to say. God, what is wrong with me? This woman has me all out of sorts. It must be the lack of sleep and coffee.
“Well… good. Glad we have that cleared up,” she answers with a nod of her head. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she almost seemed… hurt? Rejected? Or maybe I’m just projecting.
Inappropriate and so not the point, I tell myself.
“Besides,” Florence continues. “I’m the one asking the questions here.”
She straightens her back and tries her damndest to look intimidating. No one talks to me like that. Not since before I joined the Caparellis. Yet here Florence is, all five and a half feet of her, talking to me like I’m in an interrogation room.
“As you wish,” I say, surprising both myself and the confounding woman standing just a few feet in front of me. Her eyes find mine, and for one brief second, the rest of the world falls away. There are no cops, no family loyalties, no documents, nothing standing between us.
The moment becomes too much for Florence, who blinks and takes a few steps back. I release the breath I was holding, nearly falling forward at the loss of her closeness.
“Who do you work for?” she asks, turning her gaze away from me. “And how do you know my address? Why were you following me last night? What kind of danger am I in?”
She finally looks up with determination burning in her green irises. Beneath the tough act she’s putting on, however, I see the very real fear.
Fuck . How much do I tell her? What can I possibly say to satisfy her questions without giving away family secrets?
“The coffee is getting colder by the second,” she reminds me, tipping her chin toward the kitchen counter where she set the food and drink down. This little spitfire has no idea who she’s talking to, but I respect the hell out of her for seeking the truth.
“I was tasked with acquiring sensitive information,” I start.
“Information?”
“Documents. A file, in fact. I believe you have it in your possession.” Big mistake.
Her eyes blaze with fury while her face turns red. She puts her hands on her hips, and I almost can’t wait for the fire she’s about to unleash on me. I love her temper as much as her submission.
“You don’t give a single shit about protecting me,” she accuses. I clench my jaw, knowing that’s what it must sound like, but hating it all the same. “In fact, the only reason you saved me from that guy last night was because you didn’t want him to damage the documents, right?”
“No, that’s not–”
“And you know where I live because you’ve been stalking me!” Florence takes a step forward, removing a hand from her hip so she can point a finger in my direction.
“I wasn’t stalking you , I was… I was watching the accounting firm.”
“Newsflash, my home address is different from the accounting firm’s address.” She takes another step closer to me, her rage a palpable thing between us. Florence pokes me in the chest and I swear to god I almost collapse at her feet with that one touch. “Try again, mister.”
My eyes are drawn to the slope of her neck, where her pulse is throbbing just beneath the skin. Fuck me, I want to lick that spot and sink my teeth into her before kissing the breath from her lungs.
“I know this looks bad,” I concede. “My mission was to get the documents. And then I saw you, and…” I’m at a loss for words. I don’t even know why I said any of this in the first place.
Florence falters slightly, not expecting my response. “And…?” she whispers back, her breath tickling my chin from how close she is. Anger mixes with passion, rage turning into lust as she tips her head up and licks her lips.
Christ, tasting her is all I can think about. I clench my hands into fists, fighting off the urge to grip her thick thighs and lift her up, pressing her against the wall so I can finally have my fill of her sweet little mouth.
I dip my head down, brushing my nose against hers. My fiery angel closes her eyes, her soft pink lips parting ever so slightly…
And then a shooting pain radiates from my left leg as if I was stabbed six times and the blades are still stuck in my muscle.
“What the–”
“Sprinkles!” Florence shouts.
I look down, and sure enough, a white fluff ball with deceivingly sharp fangs and claws has attached itself to my lower left leg. I try shaking the damn thing off but that only seems to anger it more.
“Sprinkles, down, boy,” Florence finally commands after letting me struggle a bit. As annoyed as I am, I have to admit, she wasn’t kidding when she said she had a guard cat.
The fuzzy demon finally retracts its claws and hops down, circling around Florence and purring. The little jerk.
“Good boy,” she coos, scratching his head.
I clear my throat, making Florence look up at me once more. She smirks, and god, what that does to me. This woman is lethal and she has no idea.
“Now that we’ve established who the alpha male of the house is, we can continue,” Florence informs me. I can’t hide my grin. She’s fuckin’ adorable, even if her cat is pure evil. “You were telling me how bad everything looks and giving me weak, vague reasons for showing up when and how you did. Does that sum up your arguments?”
“Not even close,” I answer. The spark of a challenge is back in her eyes, and while I don’t know if she trusts me yet, she certainly likes sparring with me. “The truth is, that file you have in your purse contains evidence that could be disastrous if it fell into the wrong hands.”
“How do I know you’re not the wrong hands this sensitive information shouldn’t fall into?” I don’t have a satisfying answer for her, but she doesn’t give me much time to flounder. “Are you with the police?”
“No,” I say with more vitriol than maybe I should have. I don’t want her to think I’m a bad guy or a criminal… even though that’s exactly what I am. It’s complicated and I don’t know how to untangle all of it before Detective Dirk comes snooping around again.
To my shock, Florence nods her head. “Good. I think they are up to something shady.” I try to keep the surprised look off of my face, but Florence must see it anyway. “What? Did you think I was some idiot who took case files from her job for no reason?”
“You’re many things, Florence, but you’re not an idiot.”
She tries and fails to hold back a smile. “I’m glad we finally agree on something.”
A moment of silence passes between us, interrupted only by Sprinkles hissing at me. I narrow my eyes at the spiteful creature, which makes Florence giggle.
“I’ve been studying the 309 file for a week now,” she continues. “Things aren’t adding up. Literally, numbers are missing, entire invoices, receipts, and large transfers of money are just gone from the digital file. The printed version, however, has a lot of the missing pieces I’ve been looking for. After a few days of research, I think I can trace some of the listed account numbers to… God, I don’t even want to say it because it sounds so crazy.”
“I’ll say it, then. The goddamn dirty cops in this city have been laundering money through various means and giving it to some truly vile people to solidify power. Not to mention the money they’re siphoning from employee pensions.”
Florence stares at me, her jaw hanging open as she processes what I just said.
“I shouldn’t have told you all of that,” I mutter more to myself than to her. Why did I give everything away like that? Now she knows she has leverage on me. Rookie mistake.
“I’m glad you did,” she answers, her voice softer than before. “I believe you, Lorenzo. I’ve seen the numbers, the accounts, the massive misuse of public funds. We can take this to the media, email a local journalist, or hell, upload the documents to social media ourselves and let the public outrage take over.”
“No,” I say sharply, shutting down the idea of going public.
“Why not? Don’t you want the truth to come out? Who do you work for?”
Before I get a chance to tiptoe around that particular set of sensitive questions, something moves outside the window. Every muscle tenses, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up as I become aware of every sound, every smell, every single motion inside and outside the room.
My hand automatically moves to my gun, tucked into my waistband. Florence gasps and I put my finger to my lips, signaling for her to be quiet. She scoops up the tiny terrorist of a cat, holding him close while positioning herself behind me.
The three of us stand completely still and silent until a car door slams shut and the sound of an engine turning over breaks the spell. I stalk closer to the single window in the small apartment, peering between the blinds and cursing when my suspicions are confirmed.
“Fucking Detective Dirk.”
“Detective?” Florence asks, her voice trembling slightly. All the bravado from earlier fades away, her round green eyes looking to me for comfort and reassurance.
“I’m going to need you to trust me again,” I tell her in a hushed voice. She nods then buries her nose in Sprinkles’ fur, clinging to him like a safety blanket. “Your apartment has been compromised. I need to move you to a safe house across the city. I swear I’m not kidnapping you,” I say, trying to ease the tension.
Florence simply nods, not acknowledging my joke. I wonder what her story is. She clearly doesn’t trust the police if she’s been digging into their shady business dealings, but this… this is something else. Not just distrust, but a primal fear. I’m determined to find out who made her feel this way and make sure they never breathe again.
“Go ahead and pack clothes and whatever you need for a few days. We need to leave here, and fast.”
“I’m taking Sprinkles,” she says, her voice a bit more firm.
“I’d expect nothing less,” I tell her, giving the traumatized, broken angel a small smile. She returns it, making my chest ache with the need to hold her.