Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Gabriel
“ Shit !” I scream as I watch the blacked-out car with no license plate race down the street in pursuit of Monica. I know in my gut it’s Nicolas. I push both hands into my pockets, searching for my phone, and realize I have left it on my desk. Running inside, I grab it and immediately call Nathan, Emily’s husband.
“Hello?” a sleepy voice answers.
“Nathan, Monica is on her way to your house, and someone is tailing her. I’m calling the police now. Text me if she doesn’t arrive,” I state.
“Fuck. What did the car look like?” he asks, and I can hear him quickly getting pants and shoes on.
“Blacked out SUV. No license plate. Best guess is a Ford Explorer, but I really couldn’t tell much in the dark,” I explain as I dial 911 from my office phone .
“I’m going outside. I’ll text Liam and get him on alert too. His house is between your office and my house. She might stop there if she realizes something is wrong,” Nathan says as he ends the call.
Fucking hell.
The dispatcher asks for information, and I don’t even know what to tell her. I don’t know Emily’s address, just the general vicinity where she lives. I give them my car information, including my license plate number, and then hang up. I text Nathan asking him for his address, then pull up the Uber app and request a ride. Fortunately, it’s May, so many tourists are heading into town, which means a lot of Ubers. I’ve got a ride in less than five minutes, and I’m texting Nathan nonstop, asking for updates. Monica hasn’t arrived yet, and she should have. Our town isn’t that damn big.
Before I can get in my Uber, a police car swings into the parking lot, lights and sirens blazing.
“Get in the car!” Liam bellows as he opens the door from the driver’s seat. I’ve barely gotten the door closed before he peels out toward Nathan’s house.
“Shit, I was hoping you were home in case she stopped there,” I tell him.
“Liv is home with the kids. I called her, and she said she heard tires screeching a few minutes ago but nothing else.”
My heart is in my throat, and I feel like I might throw up. This is all my fault. I literally just told her I couldn’t let anything happen to her, and then I fucking did. God, I hope she forgives me. I need her to forgive me.
We arrive at Nathan’s in record time, thanks to Liam’s police escort, and we screech to a halt in the driveway behind my car. Monica is on the porch stairs sitting next to Nathan. As soon as she sees me getting out of Liam’s patrol car, she jumps up and runs to me, launching herself into my arms .
“Are you okay?” I whisper into her neck. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so fucking sorry. I shouldn’t have let you leave.”
“I’m fine, tesoro . I’m fine. This wasn’t your fault,” Monica replies before grabbing my face and looking me in the eyes. “Do you understand me? This wasn’t your fault.”
“Gabriel, man, it wasn’t your fault. It was his,” Nathan says from behind us, and I look to see him pointing toward a huddled figure beside my car. Nicolas is crouching, holding his cheek, where obviously he was punched.
“You motherfucker !” I snarl as I put Monica down and take off for Nicolas. He barely has time to throw up his hands before I wail on him. “You dare come after what is mine? You dare show your face again, you little miscreant? She is mine , and if you even look in her direction again, I’ll have you eating out of a fucking straw for the rest of your fucking life!”
“Gabriel, you can stop now,” Monica says quietly from behind me as she gently touches my back. “ Tesoro , look at me.”
Adrenaline is coursing through my veins, and my hands are shaking. I take a steadying breath before turning to Monica. I look at her knuckles, but they appear fine. I glance quickly at Nathan to see him rubbing his right hand. He must have been the one to hit Marcus.
Monica takes one of my hands between hers, bringing it up to kiss my bloody and broken knuckles.
“I can’t lose you,” I blurt out. Monica gives me a soft smile.
“You won’t, amore ,” she whispers, and my heart skips a beat. Did she just call me ‘love’ in Italian? Before I can say anything, she continues. “ Meu cora??o é seu, amado. ”
Holy fuck. Monica just told me her heart is mine. And she called me beloved.
“When did you learn Portuguese, anjinho ?” I ask quietly as a smile grows on my face.
“I’ve been learning it for a few weeks. I wanted to tell you how I felt in Portuguese since you’ve been telling me all along,” Monica says.
“Do you know what I’ve been saying?” I ask as she grabs my other hand, kissing the remaining unblemished knuckles.
“No, but I think I have the gist of it.”
“I’ll tell you tonight.”
“Promise?” she whispers, and I nod.
“We need to have a little chat with your ex here before we can go home, querida .”
“Knew you were fucking,” said ex moans from the driveway.
I crouch down next to him. “I wasn’t when you first asked. But I sure as hell am now.”
“Asshole,” he mutters.
“I’m the asshole who gets to fuck her every night,” I say cheerfully.
“Marcus, did you burn down my apartment?” Monica blurts out. We both look expectantly at him, but he refuses to answer. “Answer the question, asshole.”
“Don’t fucking call me Marcus,” he snarls.
“Answer me, and I’ll call you by your real name.”
Nicolas sighs and reluctantly nods. Monica growls as she lunges at him. “You bastard! You deserve everything coming for you!”
I catch Monica before she can claw his eyes out before looking at him.
“Now, Nicolas, tell me who sent you here. I know it wasn’t you.”
“How would you know that?” he asks belligerently.
“I heard you on the phone with someone. Telling them you had Monica right where you needed her and that you needed more time to get further. Explain.”
He stares up at me and shakes his head, so I push my fingers into the side of his obviously broken nose.
“Fuck! That fucking hurts!” he seethes.
“I’ll do more if you don’t start talking, pi?o .”
“If I talk, I’m a dead man,” he mutters.
“You’re a dead man either way. Talk. What does the Bianchi family want with Monica? Ties to her family?” I ask.
Nicolas sighs and gingerly sits up. “Wrong family.”
“The Russo family?”
“No. I mean, the wrong family is after her.”
“I don’t follow.”
“I’m not working for my family. Not anymore.”
“Who the fuck are you working for, then?”
A car comes screeching to a halt on the street, and a man in a suit steps out.
“Not another word! Nicolas, I’m advising you not to answer any more questions. Officer, is this a detainment?” the man says as he looks at Liam. Fuck. How did he lawyer up this fast?
“No, not a detainment. We aren’t even sure what happened here,” Liam says.
“My client appears to have had his face smashed in. Anyone like to explain that?” the lawyer sneers. My right hand is in Monica’s hands, and I feel her gently rubbing my knuckles. My querida is trying to ensure they don’t appear bloody if the lawyer asks to see them. I cough to cover the smile threatening to erupt on my face.
“He showed up like this,” Nathan says from the porch steps. “Right, Monica?”
She nods before we all turn to Nicolas.
“You must have gotten beat up before getting here, right, Marcus?” I say strongly as I stare at him. His eyes narrow for a moment.
“My name is Nicolas. I don’t know a Marcus,” he says.
“Our mistake,” I respond. “Someone named Marcus tailed my woman here. Must have driven off before you showed up. You should get your face looked at. Looks like your nose is broken.”
Nicolas glares at me as his lawyer helps him stand up. “Yeah, guess a guy didn’t like me hitting on his girl at a bar earlier. Definitely wasn’t you.”
“Definitely wasn’t me. I’d have hit you much harder had you gone after my woman.”
Monica giggles quietly and presses her face against my arm.
“It was interesting meeting you, Nicolas. I hope to never see you again,” she says quietly. Nicolas looks at her before nodding. Now that his attorney is here, we’re back to square one. Other than him saying it wasn’t his family after Monica, we didn’t learn much tonight.
“Can we go home, tesoro ?” Monica whispers, her eyes looking up at me lovingly.
“Don’t you want to see the baby?” I ask as Liam speaks quietly to Nathan.
“Elijah and Em are both sleeping,” Nathan explains. “We can bring him over tomorrow to see y’all if that’s okay.”
“That’s fine, Nate. Y’all can come over tomorrow,” Monica says with a laugh. Evidently, Colorado native Nathan has taken to saying some southern phrases like his wife and her best friend, and the rest of the group never let him live it down. He rolls his eyes with a smile and shakes his head.
“ Querida , how did Nicolas get punched before I got here?” I ask. Nathan chuckles as Monica shakes her head.
“As soon as I got out of your car, he jumped out of his. He attempted to grab my arm but Nathan got to me first. Nate hit him so hard that he flew back a few feet. I swear it happened in slow motion. It was epic!” Monica giggles.
“I owe you one, man,” I tell Nathan, and he shakes his head.
“No, you don’t. She’s family. We protect our own,” Nathan says. I offer up my hand, which he gingerly shakes, before wrapping my arm around Monica and pulling her to my car.
“We need to stop at the office so I can lock up. No paperwork, I promise. I can’t concentrate on any of that right now, anyway.”
“Okay,” she whispers as she slides her hand into mine, intertwining our fingers. I turn to Liam, who is furiously typing on his phone.
“You got something?” I ask him.
“I’m not sure. I’ll let you know tomorrow. I need to get back to work,” Liam says as he waves before trotting to his squad car. I think he knows something but didn’t want to reveal it yet. One step forward, two steps back.
After locking up the office, Monica and I head home. Part of me wants to fuck her unconscious, but part of me needs to hold her. I need to feel her heartbeat against mine and know that she’s here. She’s mine. The pi?o didn’t get her this time. This time. A foreboding sensation overtakes my body as I realize it’s not over.
“I wasn’t scared,” Monica whispers against my chest, jarring me from my thoughts.
“You weren’t?”
“No. I knew it was Nicolas, and I knew you’d get to me. You’d protect me.”
“I’ll always protect you, querida ,” I breathe. “Nothing will ever stop me from getting to you.”
Monica raises her head from my chest and looks at me. “I know, tesoro . That’s why I wasn’t afraid. You’re the first man who has ever looked out for me.”
“Really?” I ask, and she nods. “Not even your father?”
Monica noticeably winces as she shakes her head .
“Tell me what made you leave and never look back querida .”
“He promised my hand in marriage to another mafia family when I was eleven. The man I was pledged to marry was thirty-three at the time. He was forty when we were supposed to get married. My sister told me he was abusive and liked to ‘break’ young girls. He wanted to marry me when I was still a child, but my father said no. He wasn’t allowed to marry me until I turned eighteen. My grandmother gave up both of our inheritances for my freedom. My father killed the man I was supposed to marry in front of me and told me I was dead to him and couldn’t contact anyone in the family again.”
Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.
“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Monica says with a pained chuckle.
“I didn’t realize I said that out loud. Querida , I’m so sorry. I hate that you experienced that. So you haven’t had any contact with your family in almost twenty years?” I ask.
“Almost. When my Nana got diagnosed with cancer, I drunkenly contacted one of my sisters. I left a message saying I needed money for her treatment. My sister called me back, told me never to call again, but then wired me fifty thousand dollars. It got me a little more time with Nana, but ultimately cancer took her from me. Besides you and Em, my Nana was the only person to love me unconditionally, and the three of you are the only people I’ve loved the same.”
I don’t think she realizes what she said. She just subconsciously admitted she’s in love with me. She’d feel an increased heart rate if her head was still on my chest. I’m so fucking happy I could start screaming at any second.
“Your sister wired you money? How?”
“It just showed up in my bank account.”
“Was it a national bank or a local bank in Oklahoma?”
“A local one. Why? ”
“That’s probably how Nicolas found you. Or whoever he was working for. They must have had your sister under surveillance. As soon as that transfer went through, they had a general area you lived in. They could easily hack the bank records and find your address,” I tell her.
“Holy shit, I never thought of that. Our apartment was in Emily’s name originally, so they would have had difficulty tracking me there. But then, when I moved into my shitty studio apartment, it was under my Nana’s name because she had better credit.”
“So the guys looking for you had a general area, probably a county, but it took longer to nail down a city.”
“And then I moved here. But he found me pretty quickly here,” she tells me. My jaw clenches as I ponder how long she fucked around with him.
“Once they figured out you were using your grandmother’s maiden name, it would have been easier to track you. Plus, you got your realtor license here. That’s a public record. So a quick google search brings that up,” I explain.
Monica sighs and puts her head on my chest again. I bury my nose in her hair, inhaling deeply. Her scent calms me. Hell, her presence calms me even more.
“I still don’t know the connection between Nicolas and whoever is trying to get to me, Gabriel. I can’t help but feel scared,” she admits.
“I know, querida . But we’re making progress. We’ll get there.”
As I slowly stroke my fingers up and down Monica’s spine, I’m riddled with questions and unknowns. Who is pulling the strings? Is her family involved? Who in her family knows where she’s located now? Is this a personal vendetta or a major mafia war that will inevitably bring unknown criminals out of the woodwork?
Monica falls asleep on my chest, right where I want her, and I fight my brain to settle down. I need sleep. Nothing is going to get solved tonight. I check the security system app on my phone, ensuring it’s activated and all cameras are working. Then, I plug my phone in before pulling Monica close to me. Her heartbeat syncs with mine as her breaths lull me to sleep.