chapter four
Noah checked his phone to see if there were any messages from Lucia. Nothing. It had been a few days since he'd seen her and she was still pissed off at him. Whatever. It was for her safety.
Are you sure about that?
Noah shoved away the thought and dragged his attention back to his workout. Angrily he pushed the button to increase his speed on the treadmill. Outside the window, he watched the throng of passersby and tourists on the streets down below in Midtown as police attempted to direct traffic.
Man, did he love this city.
As a thief on the streets below, he’d never thought he'd end up here now. It was a long way from where he’d started to here. And he didn't take any of it for granted.
Bouncing around from foster home to foster home, he got to see a lot of the city. Unfortunately, he spent most of that time picking the best marks. And nowhere was better for marks than Midtown. Times Square.
But now…now instead of looking at them as targets, he saw them as the people he protected. Sometimes. Other times he was the bad guy.
But that's not who you are anymore. That's not what you do.
Back then, when he’d saved Ian’s life, he hadn't considered where that one action would lead. The dark and twisty path it would take him on. That path had exploited his best skills and nurtured his darkest ones. Despite that, he considered himself lucky. He’d helped people. Saved them. But saving those lives came at a cost.
And when the cost got too high, he’d gotten out.
Noah pushed himself on the treadmill, running until his lungs burned and his eyes watered. Until his heart thundered against his ribs, begging for mercy. When he finally hit the stop button and the treadmill slowed, he dragged in deep breaths, completely unaware that he wasn't alone.
Then he turned and startled when he saw Jonas leaning against the glass doors of the gym.
"You're going pretty hard there," the other man commented as he pushed off the doors and walked closer.
"Jesus Christ, Jonas. You’re a silent motherfucker, you know that? I may consider putting a bell on you."
Jonas just shrugged his big shoulders. "You're welcome to try."
Noah grabbed a towel and wiped his face. "You want to tell me why you're standing there staring at me like you got a crush? Or do you want me to guess?"
Jonas chuckled and shook his head. And he still didn't say anything. Jonas knew him better than anyone. He was his oldest friend.
"What's up, Jonas? You’re creeping me out."
"Well, I was sort of hoping you could tell me. You’ve been out of it the last week. Lucia still not returning your calls?"
Noah knew a loaded question when he heard it. For years, Jonas had pestered him about Lucia. Jonas was the only one who knew how Noah felt about her.
"No, I haven't heard from her. She’ll settle down. See it my way eventually."
"You sure about that? Either date her yourself, or cut her loose to do what she wants to do."
Noah shook his head. "You know I can't do that. I’m supposed to be looking out for her. So if she can’t choose wisely, then I'm going to make a nuisance of myself until she learns."
Jonas rolled his eyes. "How’s that plan working out for you?"
Like shit. But there was no way Noah was telling his friend that. "It's working fine. Get the team ready. I’ll need five for a shower."
After his shower, he joined his assembled team in the conference room. Matthias, with his two laptops and earpiece in his ear. Jonas at the other head of the table lounging back in the chair, his feet kicked up, gleaming loafers on display.
Oskar sat in front of his laptop looking irritated. But then, that was Oskar. The German rarely smiled. That was probably a good thing given the number of female clients who openly stared at him in interest. If he started smiling back at them, it might be pandemonium.
Ryan and Dylan rounded out the group. They were the newest additions. So far they'd proven themselves on assignments, but he was still testing them out.
"Okay guys." He shook out his hair, wiping away the last remnants of water. "So we had a few new clients come in. And a few repeat requests. Alana Brooks, the singer, is coming back to town and has an open spot for bodyguard duty. Ryan, you worked with her before. You willing to do it again?"
"Yeah, that's fine. Though if she insists on going to a mall again, I'm getting back up. Those teenyboppers are scary people.”
Everyone laughed. Even Oskar.
"You’re afraid of a couple of teenagers?" Dylan asked.
"Laugh all you want but those girls can be dangerous. One jumped on my back in an attempt to climb over me and get to her." He shuddered. “That shit was terrifying."
Matthias laughed. "The great Ryan Delaney taken down by a couple of teenage girls."
Noah knew the kid had a point. There was nothing more frightening in their world than an unknown variable. A screaming girl determined to get to the object of her affection definitely qualified because you could never predict how far they’d go to get what they wanted.
"Okay, I'll put you down. We've also got the Boynton Corporation. They want us to take a look at their security setup. They’ve had a couple of internal break-ins."
Jonas nodded. "I can do the initial intake if you want."
Noah nodded. With their current caseload, he’d been relying on Jonas more and more. Maybe it was time to give his friend a raise.
They reviewed a few additional new cases. One for the FBI, who wanted to borrow Matthias's skills. For that one, Noah would do initial intake himself. He didn't trust the Feds.
After going through the rest of their new cases, he brought up the last item on the agenda. "So, we’ve got a few pro bono cases on the docket."
Oskar groaned. "How are we ever supposed to make money if you keep taking pro bono cases?" Taking jobs that didn't bring in money made the German twitchy.
But he hated scumbag abusers more than any of them. Which was why, even though he grumbled, he was usually first in line for ass-kicking duty.
Besides, Noah had used his buy-out from ORUS to start this place. He’d put that money to good use. Oskar had helped him invest wisely, and those returns went to running Blake Security. That didn't mean Oskar wasn’t wired to obsess over the bottom line.
“For every three jobs we take a pro bono one. That’s how it works. You want to let this latest scumbag roam free?” What Noah didn’t say was that he felt like he needed to do the penance.
Oskar harrumphed. Crossed his arms and sat back. "Whatever."
Noah fought his grin. That was his friend's way of saying ‘Fine. Who do we have to save now?’
Noah nodded at Matthias, who put up the picture of their new client, a smiling young girl with a long brown ponytail.
"This is Ella Wielding."
Matthias popped up another picture, this time a man in his forties. Dark, greasy hair, scraggly beard, beady little eyes.
"This is her neighbor, James Thorne. He's been following Ella. Ella's mother has gone to the police about his inappropriate interactions with her daughter. Ella insists that she’s seen him at the mall, when she’s at soccer practice, and out with her friends. So far he hasn’t touched, but that's just a matter of time. I want everything we’ve got on this guy."
Oskar sat forward, his brow furrowed deep. "What's our endgame?"
Everyone knew what he was asking. Oskar wanted to know if they were going to hand out police justice or street justice. One of those would land James Thorne in the East River.
Noah didn’t flinch. "It depends on what we find. If he's done this before, repeatedly, I'd like to permanently rehome him somewhere he’ll never hurt anyone again."
Oskar nodded his approval, but Jonas pinned Noah with a level gaze. Ryan and Dylan looked unperturbed. Matthias didn’t even look up from his computer. They were all okay with it if guys like this no longer walked the planet.
While Oskar could be downright savage if it meant saving an innocent, Jonas believed in truth, justice and the American way. But even his friend had seen way too much injustice of late. Jonas knew who Noah was. What he’d done before he opened Blake Security.
The guilt that Noah carried around.
Jonas acted as his conscience. And when it couldn’t be helped, Noah actually listened to his conscience. But if James Thorne turned out to be the lowest of the low, then Noah might let his old self out to play.
Because sometimes you just had to take out the trash.
"Matthias, find us anything you can. Then we'll decide what to do with James Thorne."
Lucia eyed herself in the full-length mirror attached to her closet door. Mentally she ran through the checklist of things Nonna was sure to scrutinize and chastise her for.
Skirt length, check.
Blouse tucked in, check.
Hair smoothed back into a simple clip, check.
Earrings in, check.
She sighed. Because God forbid she didn't have earrings on when she went to see her Nonna. She loved her grandmother. She really did. But the woman had antiquated ideas about how a woman was supposed to present herself at all times.
Once Lucia had made the mistake of not wearing proper undergarments to bed as a teenager, and she’d thought her grandmother would faint from distress when she’d woken her for school the next morning.
Lucia had asked her what the big deal was about not wearing underwear to bed. Plenty of her friends did it and claimed it was more comfortable. What was the worst that could happen? All her Nonna had been able to get out between pinched lips was that it was improper. And what would happen if there were some emergency and they had to evacuate their building in the middle of the night?
Lucia hadn’t had the nerve to point out that in the event of an emergency, she doubted anyone would care if she was bare-assed beneath her nightgown.
Growing up, Nonna had also had specific requirements about how a young lady should dress. Particularly, skirt length. Nothing above the knees, as it was vulgar. Blouses should always be tucked in to minimize sloppiness. Plus they must also not be too tight, in order to minimize generous curves.
She looked down at her boobs. Yeah, no minimizing those. And the hair. Well, Nonna had never been particularly happy with Lucia's curls. They'd spent hours upon hours trying to smooth out every last hint of curl.
As Lucia had gotten older, she’d let some of those things go. Besides, she looked better with waves anyway. Although, she secretly loved her wild curls. Besides, really, who had time for blow-drying? Especially not with her job.
The job was another point of contention. Nonna did not approve of fashion as a profession. Or even as a hobby. Which meant Lucia had been forced to sneak in her Vogue and Vanity Fair magazines. She'd hidden them under her mattress like she supposed some guys would hide dirty magazines. She'd been far less concerned about the salacious romance novels JJ had asked her to hide, since Nonna devoured them, too.
Lucia figured she couldn’t complain too much. JJ's mom had been a renowned snooper. There was no getting anything past her. Nonna, while occasionally self-righteous, didn't look very hard. Under the mattress was a decent hiding place in her house. Lucky for Rafe. She smiled thinking of her brother. He’d always been a handful but he’d been so much fun. The best big brother a girl could have.
Outside of the aging brownstone in Queens where she’d grown up, Lucia tugged open the creaking glass door before turning the brass knob of the main door. Damn, it was unlocked. Her grandmother really needed to tighten up the security around here.
Awesome. Now she sounded like Noah. And that was the last thing on earth she wanted. That meddling self-righteous asshole.
With a deep breath, she stepped into the house and was instantly greeted by the scent of garlic and tomatoes. It smelled like home. She missed being here. She missed knowing that no matter what, Nonna was always going to be cooking and fussing about how she didn't eat enough. And at the same time fussing about her figure.
She found her grandmother in the living room dusting.
"Nonna, what are you doing? You're supposed to be recovering from pneumonia. Besides, I got you a cleaning lady so that you wouldn't have to do all this bending and reaching to clean."
Nonna wrinkled her nose. "You know I don't like someone poking around my house.”
"Well, I know for a fact that she comes every week because I’ve been paying her. What does she do if you don't let her clean?"
A slight flush tinted her grandmother's cheeks. "Okay, so sometimes I feed her. The poor thing is so skinny. How is she going to get a good husband if she doesn't eat?”
Lucia could only sigh. Okay, new rules and a new cleaning lady, this one older. Someone Nonna couldn't push around so easily.
"I do these things so that you can be taken care of even when I'm not here. You have to let me help."
"Nonsense. I can take care of myself."
Lucia crossed her arms. "Do I need to remind you that you’ve been very ill? You should be resting. Let someone else take care of you for once."
Nonna waved her off. "I'm a grown woman. I'll tell you —"
A knock at the door stopped the argument mid-flow.
"Are you expecting anyone?"
She held up a hand to prevent Nonna from going to open the door. Nonna shook her head in amusement.
“Yes, actually, I am expecting someone. I have a life, too, young lady.”
Lucia laughed. What was wrong with her? She'd become nearly as paranoid as Noah. After peering through the peephole, she opened the door to find a dark-haired man on her grandmother's steps.
"Can I help you?"
He smiled broadly showing straight, blindingly white teeth. "I'm here to see Rosa DeMarco. I'm a doctor."
He didn't look like her Nonna's doctor. She glanced back at her grandmother. "Nonna?"
Her grandmother grinned, pushing her aside to open the door and welcome him.
"Antonio! I'm so glad you were able to come by to check on me."
Nonna stepped back to let him by and he walked straight into the living room as if he knew his way around. Lucia had no choice but to follow them both. Her grandmother sat on the couch watching with avid interest as he pulled out a stethoscope and blood pressure pump.
Lucia watched the two of them with mounting suspicion. "So, how long have you been my grandmother's doctor? And do you work with Dr. Erlichman?"
Dr. Antonio opened his mouth to answer, but Nonna answered for him.
"You remember my friend Esther? Well, this is her grandson, Antonio. Obviously, he's a doctor. And while he's home helping her out for a month, he checked on me. Especially since I was ill. He wanted to make sure that I was following all my doctor’s orders."
Antonio nodded. "It's no trouble. My grandmother lives three doors down. So after I check on her, I look in on your grandmother." He flashed another grin.
Lucia licked her lips. Something was up. She could feel it. "Well, I am grateful. Nonna doesn't usually let anyone help her. She’s very independent."
He chuckled. "Oh, I'm well acquainted with her. That's why I was so surprised she asked me to check up on her every now and again. I'm sorry I was late today. I got held up with a friend in Brooklyn."
Lucia cocked her head. "Oh, did you guys have a set appointment? I would've taken my time getting here if I'd known that."
Lucia got the distinct impression her grandmother wanted her to arrive just when she had. Just in time to meet Dr. Antonio. Who, for all intents and purposes, was very good-looking. Tall, lean, thick dark hair. Everything about him screamed, 'I'm a good Italian boy.' But Lucia was in no mood.
"Okay then, I'll leave you to it. I have phone calls to make anyway."
The old lady thought she was tricky. Damn, she’d had to run out of her office, change in the building bathroom, hop two trains and a bus just to get here at the specific time her grandmother said she needed her. Under normal circumstances, she would have come on Saturday. But her grandmother said she'd been feeling weak since her illness, so of course Lucia had wanted to check on her.
You've been played.
Thirty minutes later, after Dr. Antonio came into the kitchen to say goodbye to her, Lucia faced off against her grandmother.
"You think I can't recognize a set up when I see one?"
Nonna rolled her eyes. "Lucia, all I'm trying to do is introduce you to some nice Italian boys. Who knows the kind of people you’re meeting in the city? Antonio goes to church. He's a doctor. You could do worse. Honestly, you act like I'm trying to force you into an arranged marriage. All I'm doing is introducing you. He thinks you're very pretty."
Lucia threw her hands up. "Nonna, that is not the point. I'm sure he is a very nice guy." But not Noah. She shoved that thought far aside. "I'm just not looking to date anyone right now."
Her grandmother scoffed. "Instead, what? You're running around playing sleuth? Trying to find out what happened to your brother? That's not the kind of life I want for you. I want you to be married and have babies, not skulking around in the dark looking in places you shouldn't be."
It was an old argument. Lucia turned to the stove and turned on the kettle. "I appreciate what you're trying to do. And I know you just want me to be happy. But you can't rule my life. Between you and Noah, I could use some breathing room.”
Lucia reached for the tea but the box on the counter was empty. She spotted a large tin behind the flour. Maybe Nonna had started putting her teas in there. She pulled out the can to open it. But instead of tea, there was a wad of cash.
Holy hell.
"Nonna. What is this?"
Her grandmother snatched the container out of her hand with more force than Lucia had ever seen her use. "It's just something I keep for a rainy day."
"That must be some rainy day you’re expecting. Is there a tsunami coming? That's a lot of money, Nonna. There must be thousands of dollars in there."
Nonna closed the lid quickly and shoved it back behind the other canisters. "Yes. I've been saving for years. A little bit here, a little bit there. I find ways to save money. That's money I use just in case." She squared her shoulders. "I'm an old lady. I'm entitled to some secrets."
Lucia chuckled. "As long as those secrets don't include more men for me to meet, that is fine."
But even as she made her cup of tea and one for her grandmother, Lucia wondered what other secrets her Nonna was hiding.
Lucia's feet were killing her. By the time she got home, the penny loafers had pinched so much she was convinced she'd never walk right again. Nonna didn't approve of stilettos and high heels. Which was a real bummer because they were pretty and, well, her boss insisted that she wear them.
The shoes her grandmother would prefer she wear were uncomfortable as hell. Once she got home, the first thing she did was kick them off inside her door. She tossed the mail onto the counter and then limped over to the couch and plopped down. She quickly checked her emails on her phone.
She grinned when she saw the confirmation for the surprise she'd set up for Noah. He would be livid. But he was the one who’d started their little war, so turnabout was fair play. And this was perfect. Because she would also get back at the gang at Blake Security for that little prank they’d pulled on her last Halloween.
Whoever thought up acting out The Shining in a warehouse building was seriously sick. She blamed Matthias. He might look sweet, but he was secretly devious.
If this surprise didn't get Noah off her back she didn't know what would. She relaxed against the cushions of the couch, allowing the tempting pull of sleep to close in around her, but then she turned her head.
No. She needed food first. And food was all the way over there—in the fridge.
Food was overrated, right? The more she gave any credence to the thought the more her stomach rumbled. "Okay, fine. I'll get up."
She pushed herself to standing and winced with every step as she padded into the kitchen. She pulled together the makings of a quick soup and preheated the oven for some bread Nonna had sent home with her. It wasn't much, and it definitely wasn't fancy, but for now it would do. This week she’d been so busy she’d been flying by the seat of her pants as far as meals went.
She stared at the pile of mail and sighed. Eventually, she started sorting through the stack. Mostly bills. A few magazine subscriptions. That had been her major indulgence when she moved out on her own, openly getting a magazine subscription to every major fashion magazine. Eventually it had started to add up so she’d pulled back to just a few, but they were still her guilty pleasure. She was lucky she’d found a rent-controlled apartment so she could afford the little splurges like this.
She methodically went through the bills, putting most of them away to deal with later while making a mental note to call the student loan office. Then she was down to one last envelope. Plain manila. Her address typed.
No return address.
She frowned. No postmark. Could it have come from the Housing Association? They occasionally would drop leaflets or notices into everyone's mailbox. Most of those were mailed, but it was possible that they’d decided to hand-deliver something. It must be pretty urgent. She flipped over the letter and there were no markings or logos on the back. Just a plain envelope. Putting a finger under a small gap, she peeled it open and pulled out the letter inside. As she unfolded it, she noted there was only one line of text:
Stop. Digging.
A cold chill ran up her spine as the letter floated to the counter.
Oh shit. Did someone know what she was up to? How was that even possible? Who would care? She’d been careful and wasn’t advertising what she was doing. Why would her getting answers now be a problem for anyone? Did that mean she was finally on the right track?
She’d gone with her brother that day as he was in a panic to stop something from happening. But what? For the past two years, she'd become obsessed with remembering. She’d written down everything she could remember but not a single memory cast any light onto that day.
She'd even tried hypnosis once. That had backfired. While she'd been very relaxed at first, she’d burst into tears as she’d tried to force her mind back to that memory.
That day in her life was like a big black hole.
At least she had the first memory of the day with Rafe on Coney Island. Anything after he got that phone call was a complete blank until the next morning when she woke up expecting to see her brother, but instead was told by Nonna that he was gone.
She'd been looking for answers ever since. She needed those answers. Because if she didn't have them, how would she ever mend the hole in her heart? Keep pushing and you won't have a heart anymore, she thought as she looked down at the message. Were the answers she needed worth dying for?
She picked up the letter. Maybe not. Maybe she did need to let go. Maybe for once she needed to listen to Noah and her Nonna and just get on with life. Walk away. Pretend that she could be normal. Is that what Rafe would want for her? Could she do that though? Could she just walk away and let it go? Her eyes glanced back at the sheet of paper. What if this time, it didn't just affect her? What if it affected Nonna, too?
She didn't need any more persuading. She ran back to the couch, picked up the phone and typed out a quick message to Matthias.
- That thing I asked you for? Never mind. Just leave it alone. I don’t need to know anymore.
She tossed her phone on the couch and scrubbed her hands over her face. Maybe this was for the best. Rafe would want more for her than a life of looking over her shoulder.