Luca
“Mr. Moretti, there’s someone here to see you. Says his name is Angelo and he has an appointment,” Ana Maria’s voice crackles at me over the phone. “Do you want me to tell him to get lost?”
“No, Ana Maria, I’m expecting him.”
“Are you sure? I could make him get lost for you.”
What a way to start my day.
I didn’t want to call this piece of shit back into my life, but I didn’t have much choice. I don’t have much time to finish off these Russians and I need some serious firepower to do it.
“Send him in,” I say.
“He won’t sign the forms. I’m not sending him in. You can either meet him up front, or I’m going to kick him out.”
Jose starts cackling behind me and I’m not even close to being done with my first cup of coffee. It’s way too fucking early for this shit.
I get up and stalk to the front and it is tense as hell as soon as I enter the room. Angelo and Ana Maria are locked in a death stare. She’s got her hands planted on the desk, leaning forward, and I would feel bad for Angelo if he were anyone other than himself.
As it is, I wouldn’t mind seeing Ana Maria kick his ass.
“Let’s go outside,” I say as soon as the door shuts behind me.
Angelo blinks first and fixes me with a smarmy grin. Ana Maria keeps her death-gaze locked on his back while I lead him out to the parking lot.
Outside, I count at least three cars that belong to his group. They’re all-black, tinted windows, and way too nice to belong to anyone who actually goes to my gym. All told, he’s probably got four or five guys with him.
“Good to see you, too,” he says.
Angelo hasn’t changed one bit since I saw him last. Still wearing the same East Coast heir-to-the-mob-boss outfits I remember. Incredibly expensive suit, shit undone just enough to look casual, tie loose. He’s strapped — there’s a pistol on his back, hidden by the suit jacket, and probably another one around his ankle.
“Thanks for coming,” I say, shaking his hand.
“You didn’t really give me much choice, not with the fucking threats you made. You’re lucky dad’s got a soft spot for you. Especially with the shit that went down with your brother. He sends his condolences by the way.”
“Don’t talk about Nico. He’s got nothing to do with any of this. But tell your dad I said thanks.”
Angelo snorts. “Right. So what is this about? Why does Luca fucking Moretti surface after nearly a goddamn year to call me and a few of his former Family members across the fucking country? You look plenty busy here, man. Got yourself a nice little job, with a feisty little secretary. You know, we looked for you for quite a while, too. Even talked to your family. No one knew you’d come out to California.”
I laugh. “Nonna knew.”
“Really? When I asked her, she told me to — and I’m quoting her, here — get lost before she shoved my gun up my gaping asshole and killed me like my mother should’ve done once she realized I was going to grow up to be the idiot prick that I am.”
“She dealt with three generations of Moretti boys, what the fuck else did you expect?”
Thinking of nonna telling off the Durantes makes me smile. She’s the only one in my family that I told where I’m at, and only then because I knew there was no way in hell anyone could get anything out of her. She’d kick their asses if they tried.
He looks at me, squinting slightly, trying to figure me out. Angelo Durante never was, and never will be, as sharp as his old man, and if I didn’t need his fucking help, there’s no way in hell I’d want him here. But as it is, I have to give him some respect.
“So what’s the deal?”
“I’ve got a problem with some Russians, like I told you. It’s a bigger job than I want to handle on my own, so I called you. I need some muscle, and that’s it.”
He shakes his head. “Do you think I’m some fucking idiot? Remember that job you pulled on that fucking Armenian joint a few years ago? How many of those bitches did you put under? Eleven? Twelve? And now, suddenly, you need help handling a bunch of two-bit Russians.”
I shrug, though it was more than a dozen. But I don’t really keep track of incidentals like that. Only one of them — my target — is marked on my tattoo.
“More than that. But that’s not the fucking point. If I could fuck around and take my time to plan this thing, I wouldn’t need your help. But I’ve got just a couple days to pull this off.”
He’s quiet a second. “What’s her name?”
“The fuck you talking about?”
I don’t want Stephanie to have any part of this. Hell, I don’t want her to even know about it. It’s better for me, and better for her — I sure as hell don’t trust Angelo, even though I’ve got more dirt on him than anyone alive who isn’t one of his blood relatives.
“This has got to be about pussy. Is it that Latina bitch on the front desk? I gotta say, she doesn’t seem your type — I remember you being all about the strippers and the family girls. My cousin Gina says ‘hi’ by the way. I don’t blame you for going local and looking for a little Mexican spice. That bitch has a nice ass on her, and I hear those Latina sluts love to take it up the back door.”
I’m fucking glad Ana Maria isn’t in earshot. I don’t think Angelo would survive, otherwise. Even then, my hand clenches. If I didn’t need his help, I’d put him down myself.
I take a deep breath. This is for Stephanie.
“Remember the debt your family owes me. I killed more than enough people for your father and I lost my fucking brother to your bullshit. Enough questions.”
I stop talking.
Angelo’s not even listening. He’s looking over my shoulder at something coming from the road. I turn around.
Speeding, tires churning up dust in the beaten-down parking lot, a car rips in from the main road. Stephanie.
She parks and the door flies open.
Angelo starts laughing. “This is about pussy. I fucking knew it.”
I hardly hear him. I’m running towards her car, furious. I want her out of here — I don’t want her mixed up in this, I don’t want her asking questions I can’t answer.
Angry bloodshot eyes look back at me and her fists are clenching and un-clenching like she’s ready to fight.
“You know, you really shouldn’t be here right now, bella.”
She stares back at me, half-surprised. Her gaze darts from me, to the cars behind me, to Angelo.
“Me? I’m here because I thought I knew you — I thought I loved you — and I wanted to give you the chance to tell me the truth for once.”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you kidding me? Everything you’ve told me has been a lie, Luca. You just wanted to use me. You wanted me to trust you so you could fuck me and have your fun. Well, you got it. And now, you don’t even have the self respect to come clean after I’ve caught you out. I know who you are.”
I take a second look at her. Those red, bloodshot eyes aren’t completely angry — they’re just as much afraid as anything else.
“What’s wrong?”
She hits me square in the face. Hard. Almost hard enough to stagger me.
I’ve taught her well.
“What’s wrong is I found out the man that I loved is a killer. That he has this whole other life working for some Mafia family out of New York, that he and his monster of a brother were even suspected of murdering a woman and her little baby for Christ’s sake —”
I love her. I love her more than I ever thought possible. But I can’t hear those words about that case — knowing what she’s talking about — without going blind with rage. It takes everything I have to keep it under control.
“Careful,” I say, my voice shaking. “You have no right to talk about that.”
“No right? What right do you have to lie to me like you did? Don’t you think that the person you’re sleeping with, the person who tells you that she loves you, deserves to know the truth about who you are?”
“That’s in the past.”
Her eyes dart behind me again. “The past? How can you say that to me right now? Because it sure doesn’t look like it. Who are those men there? Mafia, right? Your Family?”
There’s so much venom in her voice. Every single word she spits with scorn and hate. My lies have hurt her, I know that, but she’s got so much fight in her that she’s going to make sure she’s not the only one in pain.
“You’re just a lying killer. You never wanted to change. You never cared about it. You never cared about me. All you wanted to do was see how deep and in how many ways you could fuck me.”
I go cold. Deep, black, cold.
If that’s how she wants this to go, then fine.
“Ok then, time for the truth: tell me how you know Vladimir Sokolov,” I say.
She goes quiet.
I step closer, looming over her.
“How is it you’re involved with Vladimir Sokolov? What the fuck are you doing with the Russian mob?”
I’m right in her face. My body is electric with barely-suppressed rage.
How can she even think to dig into my past and throw it in my face without me saying anything about her being connected to a piece of filth like Sokolov?
She tries to take a step back to her car, but I just move closer. If she came into this expecting me to just lie down and take it, she is sorely mistaken.
“Tell me why it is that a Russian mobster is so interested in you and your family’s business. Because last I fucking heard, they don’t give a shit about mom and pop hardware stores. You’re not so innocent either, Stephanie.”
“Stop it,” she whispers.
“You want the truth? The truth is I’m doing this for you. The truth is I thought I’d left all this death behind, the truth is I wanted to change because you made me believe it’s possible, you gave me something to try for. But I’m so fucking in love with you that I am throwing away the vow I made to my fucking dead brother, my hero, to make you safe.”
I step towards her again. “Satisfied? Is that enough truth for you?”
She doesn’t back down. She might not be screaming, but her emotions have not cooled a single degree.
“I didn’t want any of this,” she whispers.
“You can’t crucify me and then expect to get off without any consequences. The truth cuts both ways. And since we’re all about the truth right now, tell me about Sokolov.”
Her voice is so quiet, I have to strain to hear her.
“It was my dad, ok? He borrowed a lot of money from them because he had nowhere else to go. The store was failing and no bank would loan him money to keep the place going and to pay for my college. Eventually, he found someone who would loan him the money. That person worked for Vladimir, and now Vladimir owns him. And me. I’m scared, Luca. I hate those people, I hate these criminals and killers and it hurts me so much that you’re just like them.”
That shuts me up. I’ve been on the enforcement side. I know the hell loan-sharking can bring on someone’s life. I might be angry at her, but that doesn’t mean I can’t feel sympathy as well.
It makes sense now. Her pain, her fear, the desperation she had in learning how to protect herself. No wonder she seems scared all the time.
I feel as low as I’ve ever felt, knowing that I’ve hurt her.
“I’m sorry, Stephanie.”
“Sorry? Thanks, it feels so good knowing that a lying murderer feels bad for me. I thought I could trust you, I thought I could love you, but that was my mistake.”
There isn’t any more defiance in her. I see and hear in her the kind of forlorn fear and resignation that comes from someone who’s had their last bit of hope taken away, who’s come to accept that misery is their lot in life now.
It kills me to know that I’m part of the cause for her pain.
“I’m going to make this right. I promise.”
I reach out for her. I just want to hold her, to reassure her that I can still be her for her.
She shrinks away.
“I don’t want that. I know what you do, Luca. I know who you are. You’re a killer, a criminal, a liar. And who you are scares me.”
Every word is like a bullet piercing my skin. She looks at me with such fear, that I can’t stand it.
“Stephanie,” I start.
She shakes her head. “Don’t. I’m leaving Arroyo Falls. I loved you — you know that, right? I didn’t think I could love someone, I thought my life and who I am was too fucked up. But I did. And if you’d just been honest about yourself, if I could believe you’re actually trying to change, maybe I could still loved you. But you’re a liar, preaching about change with a choir of criminals behind you, and I can’t stay in this toxic place any longer. I need to go.”
She climbs into her car and shuts the door.
All I can do is watch while she pulls away.
I feel hollow inside. The one woman I started to open up to, the one woman who made me feel like maybe this whole starting over thing could actually work, just reminded me of what a fucked up piece of work I am.
Footsteps crunch up behind me on the busted pavement of the parking lot.
“So that is who we’re doing this for? I don’t know, seems to me like she’s not your biggest fan right now. But I don’t blame you for caring a bit. Even from over there I could see she had some fantastic tits. A little killing seems a small price to pay to play around with those for a night or two. Hey, did she let you fuck ‘em?”
I ignore him. Angelo’s just trying to get a rise out of me. I keep my eyes on the road, watching the woman I love drive away. When Stephanie’s car has disappeared out of sight, I turn around.
“You and your boys got your guns on you?”
He spits and looks at me with an upraised eyebrow. “What the fuck do you think?”
“Then follow me to my place. I’ll get my guns, then we’re doing this. Now.”
“Now? Seems to me a bunch of fuss over nothing, since your piece just left you.”
Technically, he’s right. Stephanie made it clear she doesn’t want my help, that she’s washing her hands of this whole damn thing. I don’t blame her; the two people she’s trusted the most have both gotten her tied up in things way beyond her control and without any of her consent.
“She deserves better.”
He puts a hand on my shoulder. “Forget her, then. Forget all this fucking mess. Head back with me to New York. The Family’s got plenty for you to do.”
“The job’s still on. If I can’t be with her, the least I can do is make sure she doesn’t have to spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder.”
Angelo sighs. “Fucking hell, man. Whatever. Let’s go make some dead bodies.”