“Should we call the cops?” Giuseppe asks.
“No, please, you’ve done more than enough. I’ll fill you in later, Mrs. D., I have to go.” I release her and dart toward the entrance to my building. “Thank you both so much!” I call out over my shoulder before I race inside and slam the door behind me.
I’ve never taken the steps all the way up to the fourth floor so fast. My chest is heaving, but I don’t stop for another puff of my inhaler. Fear blossoms in my heart, each step only intensifying the panic.
When I reach the fourth floor, I race across the squeaking wooden timber. Almost there. A shot rings out as my hand closes around the doorknob to my shitty apartment. Terror surges through my veins as I whip the door open.
Dad stands in the far corner with a gun in his hands and Tony trying to wrestle it away. My head swivels to the other side of the room, behind the open door, and I choke on a sob. Luca is on the floor. Deep crimson paints his crisp shirt and fine jacket.
God, no. I sprint for him and slide down to his side. His hands are clamped over the wound on his stomach. “Oh,Dio, what happened?”
“Well, your father, shot me, princess,” he grits out.
I glance between the two mobsters and my father. No way drunk, pathetic Liam McKenzie got the slip on them. Luca must have warned Tony not to hurt him. Luca took a bullet for me instead.
“Luca ….” My lip trembles. I place my hand over his to staunch the bleeding. The warm liquid pools between my fingers, and darkness consumes my vision. Vinny. Just like that, I’m twelve years old and back in that alleyway. My heart rebels against my ribcage, and my breaths come out in ragged spurts. I can’t drag in a breath fast enough. My lungs refuse to pump.
I’m hyperventilating.
“Stella, breathe.” Luca’s soft voice cuts through the impending panic. “You’re okay, and I’m going to be okay. It’s just a flesh wound. I’ll be fine.”
A loud thud echoes behind me, and I spin around to find my dad on the floor.
Tony raises his hands innocently. “I just knocked the asshole out. He’ll be fine, just a little knot on his head.” He closes the distance between us and kneels down beside Luca. “How are you doing,capo?” Unbuttoning his shirt, he eyes the hole in his gut.
“I’ll be fine as soon as the doc gets me stitched up.”
Tony nods and pulls out his phone. He stands and moves to the bedroom to make the call. I can’t take my eyes off Luca, the fear of losing him so acute I can barely sit up from the strangling emotions. Hot tears burn my eyes; a drop trickles over then another.
I draw in a breath.Dio, please don’t take him away from me. Not like Vinny. Not like Mom.
“Just don’t look at it,” Luca hisses through clenched teeth. “Keep your eyes on me.”
I should be the one trying to calm him, not the other way around. Tears stream down my cheeks, and I quickly swipe them away. “Never do that again,” I cry. “You should’ve let me come with you. I could’ve handled it.”
He shakes his head, anguish carved into the hard set of his jaw. “No, you don’t need to see thismerda. This dark side of my life.” He reaches for my face, hand covered in his own blood, and still, I lean into his palm. “You are my light, Stella, you’re everything good that is a part of me. I want to protect you from all of this shit. I hate that you have to see this, that you have to witness the reality of the monster that lies beneath the surface.”
“You’re not a monster, and I love you, Luca. And even if you were, I’d love you all the same.” I slide my hand to his heart, and it beats wildly beneath my palm. Between my bloodied fingers, I can just make out black numbers hidden beneath the intricate tattooed pattern.
6.15.16
Ice water rushes my veins, and a whirlwind of flashing images race through my mind. Squeezing my eyes closed, I glance up. “Luca …?”
That piercing agony lines the corners of his eyes.
“Why do you have the date of my brother’s death tattooed to your chest?” My voice is not my own, the eerie, icy calm belonging to a stranger. All this time with Luca and I’d never mentioned Vinny, not once. Why?
His lips press into a tight line, and he heaves out a breath. “I can’t believe you don’t remember me,” he murmurs.
I blink quickly as a carousel of images spin through my mind. Vinny. Me. And Luca. My mom’s funeral. The movie theater. Nights at the soccer field.
My stomach revolts, and I spin around just in time. I spew the contents of my empty gut all over the peeling linoleum. The warmth of Luca’s hand spills across my back as he rubs slow circles. It’s too much. Too much emotion, too much pain.
I whirl on him. “Why didn’t you tell me who you were? Why did you disappear? Where were you all these years?”
His brows slam together, and darkness carves into his features. The tendon in his jaw twitches, his molars grinding so hard I can hear them.
“Tell me!” I cry.
