Chapter 11
Luke
E mma and I didn’t need to be told that we should lie low and let thing settle. We weren’t stupid. I felt ignorant about a lot of what happened in the mafia world, but I was determined to learn it all. Knowledge was power, and I intended to soak it all up.
After the first day that we hid at Randy’s safehouse, I carefully covered up and went outside. I found a dinky little mask, leftover from the covid days, in one of the drawers in the kitchen, and that gave me a decent disguise to leave the house. Emma remained back, with the one gun that she unearthed between the mattresses. It housed a single bullet, and she confirmed that she knew how to handle it.
“You father wanted you to know how to shoot?” I asked when she held it aloft, seeming confident and comfortable with the firearm in her hands.
“No.” She smirked at me like I was an idiot to suggest that. I supposed I was. Damon Giordino was all for keeping Emma submissive and without control.
“Krista—her father is a capo—taught me. Well, we learned together. She’s friendlier with the guards.”
“Fucks them to get her way, you mean?”
She shrugged one shoulder, inspecting the gun. “Yeah. They never treated her the same as they did me. I was off-limits. To trap and keep under rule. We got bored and she had a guard take us to the range. It became a little bit of a hobby, something new to learn. We never got to go to school. We were tutored and kept home. So, yeah, it was something different to do.” Closing one eye, she held the gun up with both hands and tested her sights. “We couldn’t practice consistently, but if someone were to threaten me here, I could shoot them.”
I nodded, eyeing her in a new light. “Fuck.” I huffed an incredulous laugh.
“What?”
I shrugged, not sure how to word my reaction. “I don’t know how to handle a gun.” I’d only learned to kill with my hands, my body.
“You’ve proven your skills otherwise.”
“Will you teach me?”
She raised her brows. “Seriously?”
“Not now. But someday.”
Her small smile came slowly. “Yeah. Of course.”
I got the impression that she was seldom asked to share anything. That she was so used to being dismissed and shoved aside that my simple question lifted her spirits. It seemed to make her feel smart, or worthy.
“Since it looks like I’ll have to embrace my ‘inner mafia’ now...”
She cracked up, lowering the gun. “ Inner mafia ?”
I pulled her in for a hug, glad that we could still joke and act like normal, goofy idiots together.
Later, though, with this mask covering my face, and knowing she had that one gun with that one bullet for protection in the safe house, I headed down the street to get supplies.
We needed food and water. More clothes. Neither of us had money or phones, and it would be a challenge to procure all of the essentials. While the safehouse was an independent location where we could be safe, there was no way we’d stay there for good. Likewise, we didn’t know where to go from here.
I set out to get a little bit of cash in the easiest way possible. I headed to a bar and singled out the drunkest idiot to talk shit with. I taunted him first, pissing him off a bit. Daring him to a fight in the back alley riled him up. He was cocky and stupid, betting that he’d whip my ass. Twenty minutes later, courtesy of his loaded pockets and his idiot friends, I walked away with six hundred dollars in cash.
That got me a couple of burner phones, a couple of bags of food, and a few clothes.
On the walk back to the safehouse, I took a long, winding, confusing route in case anyone was watching me. I remained alert, watching my surroundings, and dialed the number I had for Jimmy.
He greeted me with a stupid line of common sense I had already figured out myself.
“Lucas? Fuck, am I glad to hear from you. You need to lie low.”
I scoffed. “No shit.”
“Is Emma with you?”
I debated how to answer. I wasn’t sure I could trust him, but telling him that I had her would also show him how serious I was about her. Let them know. Let them all fucking know she’s mine.
“Yes.”
“You’re both okay?” he asked. A hint of worry laced his tone, but then he grunted a laugh. “Never mind. I’m talking to you . She doesn’t need medical attention?”
“We don’t need medical attention,” I replied.
“The last I saw of you was when you walked off after killing Antonio’s favorite fighter.” He sighed. “I tried to warn you. I saw him take that knife just before he entered the ring. It was fucking rigged.”
He had shouted out for me. His willingness to warn me was a point in his favor, but it didn’t make me trust him. Not completely. A lifetime of lies was a lot to forgive—if I could forgive him at all.
I listened as he explained what happened in the wake of that fight. When I didn’t come back out, he asked Ben and the workers. No one could verify who’d come in and tazed me, but Rossini soldiers who reported to Jimmy more or less came to the conclusion that Antonio had taken me. Then later, when word got out that Emma had escaped her father’s home, he assumed that I’d gotten her out.
“You’re fucking strong, Luke. But you’re not invincible, dammit.”
Now , he sounded worried.
“No more fights for a while,” I said.
He huffed. “Obviously. People are talking about your last one. I bet they will be for a while yet. The payout was astronomical, anyway. It’s already deposited in your account. Nina will be set for a while.”
But she shouldn’t just be alone. “Can someone check on her?”
“Yes. I’ve got Sean stopping by. He’s keeping his distance, but I’m watching over her.”
Why? I had so many more questions to ask, but it seemed like this had to be a one-step-at-a-time thing.
“So lie low. I’m not going to ask where you are.”
I nodded. “I wouldn’t tell you anyway.”
“You’re really serious about her, aren’t you?”
I’d killed for her. I broke her out of her father’s home. What else did I have to do to prove it in the short term?
“I am.”
“We need to discuss what you can do next to keep her then.”
I frowned, wondering why he’d change his mind. “You’re not going to tell me to give her up?”
“Not right now. I’m not going to waste my breath talking to a wall. Would you listen to me if I suggested you let her go home? And go to Antonio?”
“Fuck no.”
“Exactly what I thought. Let things settle, and we’ll talk again.”
We disconnected the call, and as I walked back to Emma, I let all my thoughts ping around in my mind. Worries and assumptions held me back from being logical, but I wasn’t sure what could happen to ensure Emma and I could be together and safe.
Kill Antonio? Her father? Then also Vincent Marchese as the head of that family? It seemed like a tall order for someone who’d only just been introduced to the world of organized crime.
No. I haven’t been introduced , I mused.
No one knew who I was, and it seemed like how we handled that critical news would change it all.
Emma was safe and sound when I returned, and I appreciated that this safehouse was a resource we could rely on. I’d need to call Randy, too, to update him with the bare basics—like the fact I wouldn’t be coming back to the Tropican, that I was using his family’s hideout.
It all had to wait though, because as soon as I saw Emma smiling at me inside, welcoming me back into the house, I was hit with such a deep yearning that I had to have her.
Seeing her vibrant bright gaze so full of love and relief upon my return...
It felt like coming home.
Wherever she was would be my home. I belonged with her.
As we hid and followed Jimmy’s unnecessary instruction to lie low while the dust settled, I enjoyed the opportunity to love this woman. At the end of each night, I fell asleep with her sated and safe in my arms, like she was made to fit with me.