34. So Long Suckers
CHAPTER 34
SO LONG SUCKERS
S erena
The next day drags on, and I spend most of it just watching the sluggish rise and fall of Antonio’s chest. Why isn’t he awake yet? I run my hand over his forehead which is cool to the touch. The fever is gone, and I’ve unwrapped and wrapped the bandages twice now, making sure there’s no further sign of infection.
Every time I get a glimpse of the scars on his back, I wince. Now he’ll have another one to add to the collection. I just hope he doesn’t attempt to tattoo over this one until it’s fully healed.
After fiddling with his bandage again to ensure it’s comfortable, I flop back down on the lounger. I have Elena’s contact information but no way of actually reaching her. I’ve debated going back into town to buy some supplies for hours. My stomach is growling, close to the point of eating itself, and even the bottles of water I found in the cabinets are about to run out. And I need a phone. After the dottoressa left yesterday, I rifled through Antonio’s clothes and almost cried like a baby when I found his wallet. The cash had been soaked and destroyed from our walk through the river, but the credit cards seem to be in good shape.
Using the credit card is risky, in case someone is tracking Antonio’s financials, but at this point, I’m willing to take the chance. Being cut off from the rest of the world won’t be feasible for much longer. Besides, we’ll need money once he wakes up so we can get the hell out of here.
The musky, salty scent of the boathouse is already permanently embedded in my nostrils, and I’m not sure how much more of this I can take. My stomach churns, queasiness setting in from the lack of a proper meal in over forty-eight hours. I’d been so worried about Antonio, I’d totally forgotten about my basic needs.
Shit… was Bella right? Have I fallen for Antonio Ferrara in only a week?
Nope, not possible.
Only a complete psychopath would fall in love with a man like Ferrara.
It’s just the chaotic situation we’ve been forced in, the near-death experience, and the amazing mind-blowing orgasm. My poor head and heart are just confused.
With that thought in mind, I force myself off the lounger and grab the wallet beside me. It’s time to go into town and plan for my next move. If Alessandro is meeting me in Milano in two days, I need to make damned sure I’m there for the extraction or Bella will have the entirety of the Kings forces descending on northern Italy.
Lacing my sneakers, I shove the wallet in my pocket and head for the door. Dio , I’d give anything for a change of clothes and a shower. With Antonio’s credit card, I could have both of those things but the moment the store owner runs the card, it’s only a matter of time until we’re tracked to Como. The boathouse is secluded enough, but for how long will it be safe?
I stand at the door, willing my feet forward, but my head swings back all the same. Antonio is just where I left him, eyes closed, fast asleep. Move . I urge my feet forward. He’s fine. He’ll be fine . Damn it, Serena, you are not allowed to fall in love with your kidnapper !
Reaching for the fisherman’s hat by the door, I drop it onto my wild nest of hair. Then, twisting the old door handle, I march out, forbidding myself to look back.
Dozens of tourists fill the cobblestone streets of the old town, and I try my best to remain hidden within the masses, clutching my bag of groceries in one hand and the new pre-paid cell in the other. I’m so hungry, I can’t help myself but bite into an apple as I head back toward the dock where I’d left the Riva.
I pass by a little boutique, the mannequin dressed in a cute flowy top and jeans calling to me, but I force my legs to keep moving. Maybe Antonio woke up and for some inexplicable reason the idea of him finding himself alone tugs at invisible strings around my heart.
Shaking the stupid out, I turn down a quieter side street that leads back to the lake. Only a few pedestrians line the road, a woman with a child and another man walking half a block behind me. I hazard a quick glance back and meet a pair of dark eyes. Coincidence. We’re in Italy, lots of men check out blondes. Even with the oversized hat and sweats, my long locks are a beacon to the roving eye. I draw in a breath, reminding myself to stay calm. The woman disappears into a store just ahead, leaving only me and the other guy. I quicken my pace, matching the accelerating footfalls behind me.
Turning another corner, I start to move faster, the swishing of the plastic bags against my thighs echoing the manic beats of my thundering pulse. I glance back again, and he’s there, slowly shrinking the distance between us.
I have Antonio’s gun, but I can’t just open fire in the middle of downtown Como without attracting attention. Just to test my theory, I stop in front of a boutique and spend minutes staring at the mannequin. I wait for the guy to pass by me, but he never does. Shit. This is not a coincidence.
“ Buongiorno . May I help you?” A sales lady appears in the doorway, and I release the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.
“Yes,” I murmur as I point at the display window. “I’d like to try that on.”
“ Certo , come right this way.”
I follow her inside the store and instantly, my wild pulse begins to slow. Guess I am going shopping after all.
I take an excessive amount of time trying on clothes, then modeling them in front of the mirror in the main part of the store. Each time I emerge from the changing room, I catch a glimpse of the man lingering just across the street.
Damn it. It has to have been Antonio’s credit card. Tracking someone’s financials like that is no easy feat. Whoever is after Antonio is still here, and they have deep pockets and eyes everywhere. How the hell am I going to make it back to the boat without being followed? Or worse…
When I disappear into the changing room, I take an extra-long break, trying to figure out my next move. I could call Elena with my new phone. She’s the only person I know in Como, but I hate dragging her into this again. She’s already made her feelings about Antonio clear. And if reaching out puts her in danger, I’d never forgive myself. Rifling through the pile of clothes I’ve amassed, I feel slightly guilty for the sales lady. I’ve worked retail before and cleaning up the dressing rooms at closing is the worst part of the job.
That guilt forces my hand to pick up a cute top and jeans, something that’ll be easy to run in. I shove Antonio’s sweatpants and gun into the plastic bag with the new phone in it, and finally, push back the linen curtain.
“Have you made your decision?” the saleslady asks.
“Yes, I’ll take this.” I signal to the new outfit I’m already wearing. “I came on foot so unfortunately I won’t be able to carry everything I loved back, but I’ll be back with my husband for more!” Husband ? Where the hell did that come from?
“Of course.” She smiles and starts to pull the tickets off the clothes.
Once I’ve paid, I tick my head toward the door I’d seen at the back of the store. “Can I go out the back? It’s a little closer to my walk home.”
“Yes, of course, signorina .” She leads me through the changing room to the metal door in the back. “I hope to see you again soon.”
“I hope so too.”
As soon as I register the slam of the door behind me, I race down the cobblestone street, sending a thank you up to Mariuccia for getting me these sneakers. If it had been up to me, I would have been in high heels which would have made this escape impossible.
Rushing down the back alley, I emerge onto the main street two blocks later. Pausing at the corner, I glance down the avenue and heave out a sigh of relief when my stalker is nowhere in sight.
You’ve still got it, Sere . I smile as I cross the street and head toward the lake in a quick, but not breakneck, pace. My stomach grumbles again, reminding me the apple wasn’t enough to tide me over. I consider reaching for another one but decide against it just in case. That guy could be anywhere. I can’t wait to be back in the safety of the boathouse. And near Antonio .
I mentally slap myself for the traitorous thought.
I’ll eat, feed him, if he’s awake, then tomorrow we go our separate ways. I’ll be back in Milano just in time to meet up with Alessandro, and I’ll head back to Manhattan for a few weeks while the dust settles. Hopefully, I’ll still have a job when I return to Dolce & Gabbana.
The narrow street widens, giving way to the glistening lake beyond, and I quicken my pace as I cross the busy street.
“There she is!” A shout echoes from my right, and I twist my head over my shoulder in the middle of the crosswalk just in time to see the guy from earlier racing toward me. There’s another man running up behind him, only a few paces away.
Shit.
I dart across the street, and the shrill blast of a horn thunders across my eardrum as a truck screeches to a halt not even a foot in front of me. My hands slam down on the front bumper, my heart leaping up my throat.
Another crash resounds from behind, metal crushing against metal.
The driver shouts curses in Italian, but I don’t stop to apologize for the three-car pile-up I’ve just caused. Instead, I weave through traffic, thanking all the gods and saints that ever lived for the cars blocking the path of the men sprinting after me.
Clutching my bags, I race across the dock, the Italian flag of the Riva waving on the breeze. Antonio’s gun beckons from the shopping bag, but I don’t dare pull it out. Nothing like calling more attention to yourself than revealing a gun in a crowded street. Pumping my arms to move faster, I dart across the worn wooden floorboards and leap onto the boat.
The two men are only yards behind me now and gaining as I stab the key into the ignition and twist. Come on, baby . The engine revs, but much too slowly. Come on . It finally flares to life, and I jerk it into motion, turning the steering wheel to maneuver out of the dock.
The two men barrel toward the end of the marina, barely stopping before plunging into the lake. I turn around, then offer a wave and a cheeky smile. “So long suckers.”
One of the men pulls a gun from his jacket and points the barrel at me. Merda ! I draw in a breath before diving for cover, my heart battering my ribcage. Pinned to the floor, I rifle through the shopping bag and clutch Antonio’s gun in my fist. Then, I wait for the longest minute of my life, but the shots never come. Interesting… Maybe they were told to bring me in alive. My frenzied breathing slows, my racing pulse following soon after. Once I’m sure I’m beyond shooting distance, I poke my head up.
They’re gone.