Chapter 24
Luca
I WAS IN a tunnel with few thoughts. The first was Vivienne. The second was the man who had his hands on her. The third were the assailants themselves, all dressed as staff. Soldiers waiting patiently for a planned attack. They knew we were coming.
Their threats floated around my mind like ideas.
They’d kill me and torture Vivi. She was already being hauled away.
Those fucking killer stilettoes dragged on the polished cement, scraping my nerves.
We all knew they wanted her alive and talking.
Everyone wanted Vivienne’s words, but they were mine. So was she.
There was a special place in hell for the guy who held my Vivienne, and he was about to take up residence.
I caught his gaze. He jerked her harder.
A low growl vibrated in my chest as I memorized his face, the unkempt, black curls haloed around his head, and how he twisted her hair around his fingers, tugging a whimper from her lungs.
He rounded the corner while she fumbled for footing, a gun held above his head.
Screams echoed off the walls.
Anarchy ensued.
A cacophony of active shooter shouts harmonized together.
I used the pandemonium to knock one soldier down with my foot.
While he struggled to stand, I threw an elbow at another, followed by a quick jab to his nose and throat.
I was a trained assassin; they were not.
When their skulls cracked the floor a second time, I pointed my gun and embraced the recoil.
Pop, pop. Cries of terror followed the booming discharge.
Vivienne had disappeared in less than two minutes.
The entrance and exit leading to the alley were stuffed with the mad frenzy of a hundred people shoving to escape.
It also prevented reinforcements from entering.
I reached into my pocket for my cell and dialed 911 with a steady hand.
I knew the drill. I had the gun; two men were bleeding out, and another was soon to follow.
The cops needed to know I was the good guy, at least in this situation.
Tucking the phone between my shoulder blade and ear, I walked the dispatcher through the scenario as I cataloged every place the bastard could hide.
Sam crouched in a corner. She pointed to the kitchen, a stainless-steel prison that smelled like cumin and corn bread. In the back, a twelve-by-twelve-foot industrial-sized freezer on the far wall was the perfect place for a private interrogation.
“How many?” I asked.
She held up a finger as the operator piped in, “Sir, are you with me? Can you describe the subjects?”
“Tell the responding officers I’m in a black suit, and the guys they want are wearing aprons and have bad haircuts. Two are out of commission. One remains active. For the moment,” I added, then ended the call and tucked the cell into my pocket. A hand on my arm stopped my next step.
“Keep Vivi alive.”
Devotion glowed in Sam’s eyes. That same emotion stirred somewhere in the dark recesses of my heart, the organ now pounding in my ears.
“Get out of here,” I barked the order as I pushed through the swinging door.
Sirens whirred in the distance, their wail growing louder with each of the twenty paces it took to reach the back.
Five minutes had passed.
Three hundred seconds.
My pulse counted each one as it ticked off the clock.
Vivi’s muffled words hit me in the chest.
Rage boiled the blood scorching through my veins.
Red bled into my vision.
I snapped open the door and didn’t look at the woman on the floor. The woman on her knees. I damn well didn’t look at her eyes. The frosty depths filled with fear, but also something else. A knowing arrogance.
I didn’t listen when she said, “I told you he would come.”
I struck, using my fists and my feet, because what fun was a gun when the suffering would end too quickly.
And Jesus Christ, I wanted this stronzo who didn’t have wild curls and wasn’t the soldier who took my Vivienne but had her now to writhe in pain.
When he was, I pulled Vivi to her feet, set her outside the door, and pretended I didn’t hear her call my name.
“Luca.” Her voice tore through my rib cage, grabbing and shaking my monster. “Please,” she begged, yet nothing lowered my arm or stopped my finger from squeezing around the trigger in satisfaction. The guy crumbled to the floor, and I stepped back and turned to find her eyes.
Innocent. Trusting. Frost.
My heart raced, then tumbled into a beat.
Gray was more than a color now. My little star was dark nights and whispered words.
Soft hands and comfort. Her hair and dress were askew, but she was so perfect that my chest ached.
I cupped her face, running a shaking thumb over her mouth, and the gloss that was smeared across her chin.
Someone had touched her. Someone touched her and took her from me.
The chaos that wreaked havoc vibrated through my voice. “Did they hurt you?”
She shook her head. “I’m okay.”
Terror spread through my once-hot veins in a feverish rush.
I drew her to me, pressing my nose into her neck, where I inhaled vanilla and sin and life.
“Fuck, Vivienne.” She wasn’t close enough.
I couldn’t get close enough to stem the tide of panic pulling me under.
I swept her up, with her knees over one arm and my other wrapped around her torso, holding onto her so hard that a sigh parted her lips.
Clarity reigned.
This wasn’t about the omertà, my job, or how it ruled over the kingdom of my life. There was no institution claiming my loyalty. Not anymore.
Vivienne Cabello was my queen.
“Stay with me,” she whispered.
I held on tighter. “No one will take you away from me ever again.”
Another promise that was broken a minute later.
?
I’D BEEN THERE before. The interrogation room held no interest for me.
It was gray. A far cry from the frosty color that’d become my favorite.
Old cigarette smoke from days gone by lingered in the air and stung my nose.
The Little Trees air freshener hanging on the door handle couldn’t manage the stench or make this place interesting.
Neither did the guy in plain clothes sitting on the other side of the table.
“Look, Officer Tanaka, is it? Either arrest me, or I’m leaving. I know my rights.”
He pushed back from the table, his chair scraping the tile before he went to the corner that held a carafe of bad coffee. “Want a cup? I can’t say you’ll enjoy it, but it does have caffeine.”
I rolled my eyes to the dingy white ceiling. “I’m on a timeline, buddy. I’ve got things on my agenda this evening.”
“With your girlfriend?”
“She isn’t my girl. We’ve been over this. I’m her bodyguard. You’re a smart guy; you know the definition. I protect Vivienne from bad guys, like the three who tried to kidnap her today.”
“Vivienne Cabello, the mobster’s daughter,” he said while leaning against the wall and crossing his legs at the ankles in a casual stance meant to put me at ease. It ignited my temper instead.
“I think you mean the lady who donates her time to a homeless shelter and a Catholic church, both in the inner city. You know, the place where gangs rule and cops can’t.
Ever been there? I didn’t think so. No one’s got bigger balls than that woman.
She’s more than a name. Remember that next time you ask about her. ”
He held up his hands, one pinching the small Styrofoam cup with brown liquid sloshing over the rim. “Touchy.”
“I’m sick of repeating myself. You have a question; go ask Angelini’s fucking mob soldiers working at the Cantina.”
“They’re currently held up in the morgue. I’m not sure when they’ll next be free to talk.”
I shrugged, not an ounce of feeling in the motion. “They shouldn’t carry guns if they don’t know how to use them.”
“And you do.”
“That fact is well established from my years of service. Check your files. It should also state in the fine print that I have a license to carry. I also, as a citizen, have a right to defend myself, which I clearly needed to do after the stupidi idioti held a Magnum .500 to my temple.”
“So, they approached you first?”
“Yeah. Two took me, and the other had Vivienne.”
“And that was it—just the three?”
I ran through the scene in my mind. Vivi and Sam. Vivi smiling. Vivi laughing. Vivi’s blush every time I looked her way.
Jesus Christ.
The restaurant, the people, and where they sat.
The convoy of my own trained guards maintained the outer perimeter because I had the inside covered.
Scemo. I hadn’t suspected the waitstaff.
I’ve berated myself for that error since the end of a muzzle cooled my skin.
I wouldn’t make the mistake again or assume the Angelinis didn’t know where to find us at any given time.
Reflecting back on the attack now, I marked five guys. The three I shot, the one with a mop of curls, and another washing dishes. But Tanaka didn’t need to know about the two missing soldiers. They were mine to manage when the time was right.
“Three, that’s it,” I lied.
A knock bit into the silence. That was my queue. I stood, grabbing my suit coat from the back of the chair. A female with red hair poked her head in, gave me a once-over, then handed Tanaka a piece of paper. “Mr. Mancini is free to go.”
He glanced at the document, then burst from his perch and stopped me from following her out. “I have more questions.”
And I had him by at least five inches and twenty pounds of muscle, but I wasn’t there to intimidate the poor bastard. He was clueless, and I had neither the time nor inclination to fill him in on the world he was keen to enter.
“Ask someone else. I’ve got business to attend to.” Namely, Vivienne.