We burst through the ruined back door and into clear air. I’m coughing roughly and spitting while Stefano goes storming around toward the front. I hear him yelling and I run after, but it’s too late. I get there in time to see a black van peel out and drive off, its back door slamming shut. It careens around a corner and is gone.
“Molotov cocktail,” Enzo says, hacking something ugly up from his lungs. “Came right through the window.”
“There are eyes on this place.” I shove him away and we go staggering back down the sidewalk.
The guy mowing his lawn’s still there, sucking away on his cigarette. He barely glances over.
“Almost,” Stefano laments as we part ways and get back into our trucks. “That wasalmostfun.”
But once we’re driving back to the city and I feel like I’ve coughed enough to scald my lungs to bloody ribbons, Enzo looks at me and pats the bills he’s got still tucked into his pants.
“We’re on to something,” he says with a grin and a gleam in his eye.
For all the shit he gives Stefano, he likes the thrill just as much as the rest of us.
Most of my life was spent chasing the high of a good fight. But now all I can think about is getting back home to Fiorella. I can picture her tent on fire, her car burning, her screams echoing through the night. It fucks me up how badly I need to see her. And I know this distraction isn’t doing anyone any good.
I drop Enzo off back at the depot but don’t stick around. “Give Davide those addresses and see what he can find.” I head backto the city, driving straight for home. When I park, I get out and have to fight the urge to go sprinting into Fiorella’s tent.
Relief floods me when I finally step inside and find her with her head under the hood of the Spider. She’s doing something to the engine, cursing loudly and creatively the whole time. “You donkey dick licking, sunburn of a fucking piece of shit belt, I’m going to choke you to goddamn death with my big fat?—”
She yelps when I grab her from behind. I nearly get smashed in the face with a wrench, but at least I was expecting it and manage to catch her wrist before she brains me. “Hey, baby,” I say, holding her tight.
“Jesus Christ, Luca, you scared the hell out of me. What are you?—”
I silence her with a hard kiss.
God, I needed that.
I needed her taste. Her whimper. The way her hard body turns soft against mine like she melts into me. Everything about her is pure perfection, and seeing her safe makes something lightly unclench from around my heart.
“I missed you,” I say, kissing her gently one more time.
“Announce yourself next time.” She’s smiling, though, her hands on my chest. “But actually, I’m glad you’re here. I was just about to try something.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
She wriggles from my grip and slides into the Spider’s driver’s seat. She flips the visor down and grabs the keys as they tumble out.
I stand back, arms crossed in surprise. “You’re ready to try it?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” She looks nervously at me and tries a sheepish smile. “Don’t judge me if it explodes, okay?”
“I’ll pull you from the wreckage.”
“Maybe let me burn.” She chews her lip for a second then shoves the key into the ignition. “You better goddamn work.”
She cranks it. Once, twice, three times. For a beat, I think it won’t turn over. But then the Spider roars to life, a glorious hum of engine and power, and she’s screaming with pure ecstasy as she hits the gas and the car responds. It growls, low and throaty, sensual and beautiful, and the goddamn thing doesn’t explode at all.
It sounds perfect.
She leaps out of the car, leaving it running, and dives at me like a maniac. She’s screaming and laughing, and I’m laughing too. Her pure joy is infectious. I can’t remember the last time I felt this happy. I’m smiling so hard my cheeks hurt. I grab her and lift her into the air and swing her around and she’s squealing like this is the best moment of her life. We kiss again, but this time it’s sloppy and happy and she’s laughing and hugging me.
“I’m so fucking proud of you,” I tell her as we turn together to admire the running Spider.
“Honestly? I’m proud of myself. I wasn’t sure it’d ever actually work.”
“Look at you now. Think it’ll drive?”
