Chapter Eight

Blaze

I had fallen hard. And fast. To any outsider, our story may have had a ‘Fools Rush In’ vibe to it, but I knew it was the real thing. After all, that was what they said, wasn’t it? When you know, you know?

I had never felt this way. In the mob, women had been arm candy, toys, and props even. Having a good looking woman on your arm added to your image. Sure, I had known it was wrong, but I had never met anyone who made me care enough to change it.

I had changed. With the freedom to be who I wanted I liked who I had turned into. I had gained a lot, including the capacity to love a woman. The ring in my pocket was proof of that.

Until she said yes, I wouldn’t know if I had changed enough to be loved in return. The box in my pocket weighed only a few ounces, but the weight on my heart was heavy as I paced the porch, waiting for her arrival.

Everything was set, I reminded myself, attempting to calm my shaky nerves. Betty had just left, after preparing a meal that was the mirror image of the first one Lucy had ever made me, and setting a table that rivaled the finest dining in New York City.

I had had the champagne shipped in. I wouldn’t be toasting my engagement with any chintzy off the shelf champagne from Wal-Mart.

I saw the moment her old Lincoln turned onto the long dirt road. It was go time. The road was a half mile long, and each inch felt like a mile as I watched her approach. I simultaneously wanted to speed time up and slow it down.

When she parked, my heart was beating in my ears. Her long legs came into view, and my worried frown spread across my face into a full grin. Her skirt flared, lifting slightly in the breeze as she stood, turned to me, and smiled.

She just stood there, staring and smiling for a full minute, with her dress and auburn locks flowing in the wind. When I was about to fly off the porch and scoop her into my arms with impatience, she winked, pivoted on her heel, slammed the car door shut, and began to walk towards me.

The blast shook the earth. The old car exploded into flames with a loud bang. I watched in shock as large hunks of flaming metal filled the sky. I could do nothing besides pray that the animals were out of the path of destruction, and that the buildings were spared.

I knew the mob’s work when I saw it. Had I been found? And they had come after Lucy? Lucy. My heart stopped as I searched for her, praying to all that was holy that she hadn’t been killed in the blast. I leapt over the porch railing and ran around in circles like a crazy man, dodging the pieces as they landed, scorching the ground beneath them.

I hadn’t called 911 yet, and my ranch may very well go up in flames in the Texas heat, but nothing mattered until I found her.

I saw the floral pattern of her sundress peeking out from a bush that lined the porch, and I dropped to my knees to examine her. I could feel the tears welling in the back of my eyes as I searched for a pulse. The faint throb beneath my fingertips was the sweetest thing I had ever known.

Only then did I pull out my phone and call for help, one hand on Lucy’s wrist as I tried to explain what had happened to the frazzled operator.

As I hung up the phone, casting my eyes heavenward to say the fourth prayer in as many minutes, her eyelids fluttered and she frowned up at me.

Her voice was weak. Probably smoke damage from the blast. I hoped that was the only injury she suffered. “Mike?” she whispered. “What happened?”

My heart broke in my chest. If she was calling me Mike, smoke inhalation was the very least of our worries.

“Rosalita.” The answering growl didn’t come from me, and I looked up to find Mike kneeling behind me. Phew. Maybe her memory was okay, after all. But, why was he calling her Rosalita?

I tried to stop her as she pulled herself into a sitting position, and looked frantically at Mike, shaking her head in denial. “No. Don’t call me that. I know what it means. No, Mike, please.”

My head ricocheted between the two of them, as I watched, trying to make heads or tails of the cryptic exchange.

Mike was silent, nodding sadly, and I watched Lucy’s face crumple in response. What was happening?

“I’m in love.” Her whisper was broken and desperate, more of a plea than a proclamation. The simple sentence should have me leaping through the air, but I had the distinct impression that my world was crashing down around me. I just didn’t know why.

Sirens blared in the distance, but I felt no relief.

“They found you. We have to move you. Tonight. Before they realize you’re alive. Your life depends on it, Lucy.”

She glared at him petulantly, and I suddenly understood the expression if looks could kill.

“Do not call me that. If you move me, it won’t be my name tomorrow, and I hate it anyways. I’m finally happy here. That’s what you wanted. So if you’re going to rip me away from that, you can damn well give me the respect of calling me by my name tonight.”

He shook his head, and I saw him glance in my direction.

“No.” Her voice was hard. “I love him Mike, and I’m not doing that to him. I’ve already done it once. I know this wasn’t my fault, and there will not be a second silent exit.”

“Lucy,” he growled. Even I could hear the warning in his tone.

“Rosalita,” she corrected stubbornly. “My name is Rosalita Sofia D’ Angelo. I’m from New York. I saw my brother Luca killed by the hands of Italian mafia goons two years ago and I’ve been here ever since. I hated it, every second of every day, until I met you, Blaze. And now I’m finally happy. But it doesn’t matter. It will never matter. I will always be one car bomb away from relocation, watching over my shoulder with every step I take until Rudy Valentino and his goons are dead. They will never catch him.” She was sobbing now, and I was struggling to breathe as the implication of her story set in. “They call him The Ghost.”

It was the last thing I heard before everything went black.

 

*****

Blaze

When I came to, I was lying on a transport gurney, only a foot off the ground, and Rusty was kneeling over me, looking worried. I sat up, despite Rusty’s loud cries of protest and scanned the area. It was swarmed with people and emergency vehicles. My ranch was now a crime scene.

Firefighters, cops, and EMT were everywhere and I thought I also recognized our vet and a reporter from the local paper. Mike and Lucy were gone.

I grabbed the collar of Rusty’s denim jacket and shook him urgently. “Where are they? Where is she? Where’s Lucy?”

His old eyes filled with concern, as he shook his head slowly back and forth. “I…I don’t know boss. I just got here. Bout had an episode myself when I saw you lying on that gurney. They said it was probably just shock and overstimulation though. There’s a nice team over there, been waiting to check you out.”

His hand moved as if to motion them over, and I grabbed it. “I’m fine, Hoss. Where’s Lucy?” I repeated the question slowly as if he just hadn’t heard me the first time.

He shook his head again, and grabbed me by the elbow, physically lifting me onto my feet, as he dragged me to be checked out.

The team consisted of an officer from both the city and state departments, an EMT and a firefighter from Dallas Fire and Rescue. He was the first to reach us, his gear clodding heavily as he walked. He took over for Rusty, grabbing my arm, and without a word, secured an oxygen mask over my nose and mouth. Great. I’d never find her now.

“Hey, man.” I pulled the mask off my face, and questioned the firefighter that was trying to help me. “Do you know what happened to Lucy?”

He frowned, and replaced the mask with an annoyed expression. “I don’t know who that is. Listen man, you need to leave this one for a few minutes, okay? We’re just trying to help you.”

How long had I been out? Apparently long enough for Mike and Lucy to disappear and rescue crews to come in their place.

I rubbed my fingers across my forehead in frustration. “The girl. The one with the exploding car! The brunette? Surely you had to have helped her! She was closer to the explosion. She needed more help than I did.”

The firefighter, whose name was Dane, according to the stitching on his jacket, shook his head slowly from side to side. “I don’t know anything about that. I’m sorry man. They didn’t say anything about a girl. Just a fire, and a man suffering from shock and inhalation. If she was close to the blast, she might not have made it.”

“No, but she did! I was talking to her before I passed out! She was fine, and now she’s gone. Why did they let her leave?”

He replaced my mask once more, but wisely didn’t answer, motioning for the EMT to come over. He probably planned to tell the guy he was worried about my memory and mental capabilities.

I didn’t even care anymore. They could do and ask whatever they wanted. I would cooperate. They were just doing their jobs.

Just like Mike had done his.

And now Lucy was gone from me.

And my father was ultimately to blame.