For Fallon (17 page)

Fallon

I‘m startled by angry male voices that I hear far away. I want open my eyes, but my eyelids feel sewn shut, too heavy to open. No matter how hard I fight, my eyes stay closed. I try to focus on the voices. Slowly, I feel myself drifting away.

No, don’t drift, stay conscious!

Is someone shouting? I can’t feel anything - not my han
ds, not my legs. But I’m awake; I’m sure of it. Again, I will my eyes to open… Nothing. My frightened state is increasing as the seconds tick away, and I’m stuck in my head with only my thoughts.

I faintly hear the male voices speak up. “When will she wake up? She’s been out
for long. This is not a good sign. What the fuck went wrong?”

“
Maybe
we shouldn’t discuss that here and now in case the girl can hear us.”

“Fine.
This bitch better wake up soon because we need to get rid of her anyway. Can’t we just dump her body somewhere?”

Oh god, no. Who are these people? Where the hell am I?

“Are you fucking kidding me? We don’t know who she is or what the fuck she was doing there. We need answers before we make another move.”

“We also need to get out of here as soon as possible before someone finds out we brought her in here. I have to admit, she’s a cute little thing, gets my juices flowing. Can’t we have a little fun with her?”

“No! Where do you suppose we move her? Do not touch her until we figure this out.”

The voices become quieter.

“Frank, go check and see who’s arriving at the front door. Don’t mention the girl yet.”

“Fucking hell, I
am
mentioning the girl. We could use her.”

I hear footsteps of someone walking away and a door slams, startling me.

“Fucking little shithead!”

Silence.

I suddenly feel a warm gush against my ear and someone whispers, “Did you just move, girl?” Then everything fades to black and I lose consciousness again.

***

I wake. Coldness surrounds me. My head is heavy and aching as I try to move, and I grimace when my bound left wrist restrains me. It’s cuffed to the bed railing above me in this small room with four off-white walls, no windows, and a light bulb hanging in the middle of the ceiling. The bed is against the wall in the corner. I touch the cold wall with my right hand. There’s a door on my left, a few feet away. I sit up, dragging the cuff to the middle of the railing. Black spots overtake my eyesight for a moment. My dress it torn, my knees covered in dried blood. An almost imperceptible noise catches my attention in the upper left corner of the room. A device turned - it’s a camera.

The door opens suddenly and bangs against the wall with a loud crash
.
I sit up on the bed because I feel less vulnerable sitting than lying down. It’s him again: the short, blond guy that hit me. He stammers into the room, drunk. I swallow deeply, and my throat hurts from the dryness. His predatory walk ignites my distress, and his daunting smile makes me shiver in fear. Instantly, I move back on the bed, even though I know I can’t hide.

“You look scared, little lady.” His eyes are blazing with malicious intent.

I
am
scared, but I just stare at him. I will not let him goad me, even though I want to cry because he’s going to touch me. There’s nothing I can do, but I will fight him any way I can.

“I think you need a good fuck. You were messing with business that has nothing to do with you, and you caused me trouble. You owe me.”

I don’t acknowledge his words and try to sit still as a statue.

He stands before me and tilts his head. “I like my women to scream. I think you would scream when I fuck your ass. Wouldn’t you?” he insults.

He fists my hair and hauls me up. The cuff on my left wrist rattles against the bed railing as I’m being forced to rise. I squeeze my eyes shut to keep from screaming out because of the pain burning in my scalp. I will not give him that satisfaction.

This must be a horrible nightmare, and I’ll wake up any minute now. But this is my reality. This is happening. I’m going to get raped in this room. The tears I’ve
been desperately wanting to hold back wet my cheeks.

I will fight him. I need to fight him.

His hold on my hair loosens involuntarily. The smell of liquor lingering around him informs me he’s drunk and obviously can’t access his full strength. He quickly recovers and tightens his fist again while I make a fist
with my right hand.

I will fight this. I will fight him.

With all my power, I punch his nose, forcing him to sway back.

His hand goes up to his bleeding nose. “You fucking little bitch!” he spits and comes at me in full force.

We stumble back onto the bed, and my scalp collides with the railing. I’m dizzy and see dozens of white and black stars for a moment, but I start kicking like a madwoman.

Do not let him take off your clothes.

I want to exhaust him. He’s drunk, and he should get tired soon. With my left hand restrained, I kick and scream, trying to kick him in the balls, but I miss since he’s holding me down on my back on the bed.

“Stupid bitch.” He punches me in the stomach.

All the air is being ripped from my lungs as I gasp for the breath
that’s been beaten out of me. He leans his entire body on me, and presses his arms on mine while he sits on my legs. I let my eyelids close for a second to avoid the blood that is dripping from his nose in my eyes. My insides are wrenching with terror. My left arm bends in an awkward position because of the cuff as pain cloaks my wrist, arm, and shoulder. I cry out because the pain is excruciating, but it miraculously spurs me on, and I don’t allow myself to wallow in it. “Get off me, asshole.” I maneuver my whole body and refuse to lie still. Although he’s much stronger than I am, his drunken haze has indeed made him weaker. I wriggle one leg free from underneath him and frantically jerk my hips up and down to get him off me. The last pins in my hair fall out and strands of my locks obscure my view. I blow them out of my face harshly. His strenuous breathing causes him to hyperventilate. I keep moving my body uncontrollably and manage to push off the bed with my right leg. He’s growing weaker, so I look down my right side to kick him again. Then I see his phone falling out of his pants pocket onto the bed, and I hurriedly push the phone under the covers with my leg. My right arm is free again, and I lift my right side off the bed with my leg and arm, throwing him off me.

He falls down on the floor, and the back of his head hits the concrete. “FUCK!” he yells.

I’m frozen in shock, afraid I’ve caused even more trouble for myself.

Our labored
breathing echoes off the walls.

“I will have you later, stupid cunt.” He gets up from the floor, rubbing his head, and then slaps my face with the force of his fury.

I recoil from the sting and close my eyes until he leaves. I keep my eyes closed and my body unmoving until I hear the door close. I force myself to stay still for a few moments to make sure he doesn’t come back, counting to thirty in my head.

I’m trembling. I’m hurt. I’m crying. I’m terrified. Every area of my skin is covered in sweat. I can’t think about anything but calling for help.

After reaching thirty, I quickly try to find the phone. Then I remember the camera in the room. I vainly breathe in to calm myself while I search for the phone under the covers. A sob escapes me when I can’t locate it, but then my fingertips touch something cold. The phone is near my behind. Using my ass, I push the phone into my hand and turn on my right side, covering what I’m doing from the camera while ignoring the pain in my left arm that the movement causes. It’s a smartphone with touchscreen. I hold it close to my eyes and dial, and misdial the number. I can’t get my fingers to stop trembling, so I dial again, almost getting the numbers correct this time, before I hear a noise outside the room.

Someone is coming.

The door opens, and I immediately let the phone slide out of my hand onto the pillow and hide it under my hair.

Shit. Did he see the phone? Did he see me move?

Footsteps approach the bed while I’m sweating profusely and using all my power not to shudder

in
fear.

He’s coming back for his phone.

“Can’t let you have my alcohol, bitch,” the same guy who tried to assault me says.

I don’t remember him coming in with a drink or a bottle. I’m motionless with my eyes sealed shut as my tears fall on the pillow. I hear the slosh of liquid in a bottle. He’s taking a swig, standing behind me while I’m lying on my side, concealing the phone under my hair and partly under my head.

Please, please, please leave!

I’ve been holding my breath since the door opened. Too panicked to even breathe. He turns but still stands there.

He must’ve seen the phone. He’s toying with me
.

A long stretch of silence ensues. No movement…

After what feels like an eternity but must be mere seconds, he strolls out. The door closes and I let out the breath I’ve been holding in. My breathing is erratic from the panic boiling in my blood. Yet again, I force myself to wait before grabbing the phone with my perspiring hands. My vision is blurred from my tears. I get the phone and sit up facing the wall, but I can barely control my right hand before I get the number correct and press dial, holding the phone up to my ear. “Please, please pick up quickly,” I murmur with an unsteady voice. My left arm is strained under the angle I’m holding it at, but I ignore the pain. My entire body stills when I hear the ringtone outside the room. I look at the phone, confused, and then hold it up to my ear again. The ringtone becomes clearer. Then the door of the room unlocks. The ringtone is in the room with me now. My head spins around with the phone still pressed to my ear and my world stops.

The adrenalin that has been shooting through my veins since the blond guy entered my room recedes. Every molecule in my existence is drenched in stunned silence. Time moves on but stops in my mind while I’m wearily trying t
o comprehend what’s happening. As I face the person standing in the doorway, the phone slips out of my hand lifelessly and drops to the ground with a loud crash. The ringing of the other phone stops that instant.

Luca

Gravel creaks beneath the tires of my car as I approach the circular driveway. I park next to two BMWs - one is Adriano’s sapphire black M3. Sitting in my car, I glare at the house for a few minutes. This place, this life I’ve wanted to keep hidden from Fallon. How do I tell her? I have the entire night to prepare myself. Hating that she didn’t want me waiting at her house, I drove back here. I still have no idea how I’m going to reveal everything. I was so desperate to hang on to her that I practically begged her to meet me tomorrow morning.

On the drive back here, I relived those few minutes repeatedly. There was something mysterious in her reaction.

When everything one wants slowly slips away, a person can amaze himself by how far he’d go to kee
p it. She’s everything I want, but she’s the one I deceived most. It was the only way to keep her safe, away from my merciless world.

As I pass the front guard, he dips his chin to greet me. I arrive in the house feeling exhausted. Standing in the foyer, I hear commotion coming from the basement and a door slams, resounding loud between these walls.

Can’t these guys be quiet for one fucking moment?! 

I need to wind down in seclusion, so I ignore the sounds and march up the grand stairs. I want Adriano to brief me on his guys’ assignment tonight. Chances are
, he’s enjoying himself with Camilla. I quietly visit the ‘strip club’ to check out what’s going on there. I push open the door and see Adriano getting a lap dance from a topless woman - not Camilla - on the couch. As I lean in the doorway on my shoulder with one hand in my pocket, the woman sees me first -when she lifts her head from his groin - and freezes. A frown crinkles my forehead, and I nod my head toward the other exit, silently demanding her to leave. She quickly scrambles away.

Adriano lifts his head and buttons his dress shirt. “
Buonasera,
Luca, care to join us?”

“Us?”
My brows draw together.

He scans the empty room and snorts. “Well, I guess the men have all retreated to a private room.”

“Adriano,” I calmly say. “Come to my office. I want details.
Now
.”

While walking in silence to my office on the other side of the second floor, Adriano calls Damian and then informs me when he hangs up. “He’s coming. He was in the basement.”

Damian was making that noise.

“You didn’t talk to him yet?” I’m annoyed that Adriano didn’t debrief his own soldier, but I don’t show it.

“No, Damian didn’t call in,” he confirms.

We enter my office, and I immediately sit in my chair behind my desk. I grab a stack of paperwork to place it in my left drawer and close it.

Adriano falls into the seat across from me. “What’s wrong?”

My friend obviously senses my mood. “We’ll talk later.” I open my laptop, type in my password, and immediately access the live feed of the entire house.

What’s going on in that basement?

I push the button under my desk to open the door after Damian knocks.

Damian enters, distraught. He has been sweating, which is not a good sign. I lean back in my chair and signal for him to sit. “What happened?” I rest a hand on my desk. 

Both Adriano and I stare at him - Adriano with an irritated expression, and I with a blank expression.

I evenly repeat, “Damian, what went wrong?”

His face jerks toward me. “We killed the associate, but there was a witness.”

Not good.

Adriano’s becoming more irritated by the second.
I discreetly lift my hand toward Adriano for him to cool down, for now.

Damian continues. “She saw the shooting. I didn’t know what to do. Frank panicked. He had an order for that one kill
—
”

“What exactly did she witness?” Adriano interrupts.

“The kill,” Damian confesses.

Adriano and I briefly glance at each other. We realize the enormity of this screw-up. 

“Damn it, Damian. A woman? What did you do with her?” Adriano demands to know.

“I brought her here. I had to think quickly. Frank screwed up!”

“Did Frank kill his target?” I need to know if we’ve bound Frank into silence. If he killed the associate, he can never break the code of silence and secrecy,
omertà
, without facing murder charges. In other words: we have him by the balls now.

“Yes,” Damian answers.

Good.

We tested Frank on his skill at espionage, obedience,
and discretion. He succeeded, but the most important skill that is required to ensure a membership in our Syndicate – kill mercilessly and without any witnesses – he failed at.

“Did you dispose of the body? Or did you focus all your attention on the witness?” I scowl at both Damian and Adriano. Adriano introduced prospect Frank and thought he would be a valuable member.

“Body is disposed of and crime scene is clean. She’s the only loose end,” Damian carefully answers.

I cover my mouth with my left hand.

“I’m sorry I brought her here,
Padrino
,” Damian apologizes in a weak voice.

“You should be.” My tone
isn’t giving away any indication of the thoughts roaring through my mind. Stroking my fingers over my chin, I ask, “What was your plan after getting her here?”

“I don’t know. I…” He takes a deep breath.

Damian’s concealment of information is starting to worry me. “Tell me exactly what happened. What are you withholding?” I command with thinning eyes.

He rubs his hand over his forehead. “I smelled booze on Frank.”

Adriano and I share a surprised look - that he even had the nerve to show up on assignment drunk. “He was drunk?” I calmly probe.

“I think so. His aim was unsteady,” Damian informs us.

“You fucking moron. Why didn’t you call me? And where the fuck is Frank!” Adriano yells.

“I think Frank knows he’s in big trouble. When I came up from the basement, he was sitting in the living room,” Damian expresses quickly.

I let Adriano handle his soldier, and I wipe my hand over mouth. Glancing at my laptop, I see there’s a woman lying on her back in one of the rooms in the basement. I zoom in and my blood turns ice cold. My pulse is pumping furiously in my ears. Sweat immediately forms on my forehead as I gaze at her. Adriano’s yelling becomes distorted and fades away as my vision is focused on the screen, and everything else goes black instantaneously. There’s a bruise on her face, below her left eye. Her dark hair is a mess, her beautiful red gown is ruined, and the skin on her knees is damaged. Frozen in place, I gaze at Fallon. I blink a few times and zoom in closer, hoping my eyes are deceiving me. But I’m positive it’s Fallon, lying unconscious on the bed. They shackled her. My two lives collide. My heart is being held in a death grip that’s smothering me. Ever so slowly, all my senses come back to me. Shouting invades my ears.

“
Idiota!
Get Frank. Now!” Adriano’s still screaming at Damian.

Damian hurriedly leaves the room.

Adriano shifts his attention to me as I undo a few more buttons on my dress shirt because I feel suffocated. My brain is trying to comprehend what I just saw. My fist tightens on the desk while I’m transfixed by the image of her unconscious body on my screen.

“Luca.
What is it?” Adriano hesitantly asks.

I run my hand over my face. Standing up, I say, “It’s her.
Il mio amore.
She’s the witness.” And grit my teeth before turning the laptop screen toward him in a violent shove. 

His eyes widen the moment he recognizes Fallon.
“Fucking shit!”

I head to the table next to the door to get a drink. Taking the top of
f of the decanter, I pour a shot of whisky and toss it back, grimacing as the liquid burns down my throat. A million thoughts race through my mind while I need to think and ensure that neither I nor she is endangered further.

I order Adriano, “Follow Damian to find Frank.” Frank is becoming a liability.

Adriano gives me a chagrined look. “I told you this would bring trouble,” he mutters as he gets up to leave.

I stop him by his arm and look him dead in the eye. “Make sure no one has access to her until I figure out what I’m going to do.”

Adriano returns my steady gaze. “I can change the code after I’ve found Damian and Frank. Until we’ve talked to them, we can still hold off questions. But, Luca, think good and hard before you do anything unwise. As your
Capo
, but mostly as your friend, I’m telling you to not act on your anger now.”

Sighing, I let him go.

As soon as the door closes, I exhale a tormented breath and grip the glass in my hand while anger crawls over my skin, faster and faster. I let my eyelids fall, but all I see are visions of Fallon chained to the bed downstairs. My eyes open, and I hurl the glass across the room. It hits the opposing wall and splinters into a thousand pieces.

This night has gone from bad to horrific. Fallon finds my other phone and concludes
that I’m married. I was supposed to be at her event tonight to ensure her safety, but I couldn’t press my luck with her. She would never have taken me with her after finding the phone. She was already too suspicious of my behavior the past few weeks and that damn message ruined everything for me. 

This power struggle with
Leggia has taken up almost all my time, forcing me to be on more business trips away from Fallon, which has increased her suspicion.  The image I’ve built around myself to keep her love was already filled with cracks, but the cracks have now expanded into one huge problem we might not overcome.

When she wouldn’t answer her phone, I would risk everything and put all business on hold to personally ensure that she was safe. Everything I have done has been a desperate attempt to keep her love for me untainted. This work has taken away more and more time I’ve been craving to spend with her. I just never imagined Fallon would be a witness.

Why the fuck wasn’t she inside?

I could let her go right now because James hasn’t been informed. Only Frank, Damian, Adriano, and I know we have a captive. But she will go to the police
, so I must expose myself to her. I press my thumb and middle finger to my temples as I sit in my chair. With my elbows on my desk, I cover my mouth with one hand while my stare is locked to that basement room that holds the only positive thing in my life. Her body stirs, and I zoom in. My fingertips trace Fallon on the screen, eager to touch her in any way possible. Her legs twitch, her head jerks, and her eyes open and blink to adapt to the light in the room. Her petrified expression shatters me beyond repair. I can’t look at her and think straight, so I walk up to the window, and rake my hands through my hair, clasping my fingers behind my head.

I told her to be more aware of her surroundings. What the hell was she doing in the back alley alone? I’m furious at her, at myself, at Damian, at Frank.
No, I’m not furious at her. She was never supposed to know.

She will leave me.

As I turn around, disorder on the laptop screen catches my attention. I hurriedly angle it up to get a better view and grip it harshly. “Motherfucker!” I bellow. The sheer rage and fear boiling inside me bursts into flames. This is exactly what I was afraid of. Fallon is wildly pushing Frank off of her. I storm to my door, but when I reach it, I take a deep breath and remind myself to not raise suspicion with anyone. I can’t slow down. I’m risking everything. Panic and dread fill me. I crash my door open and don’t even bother closing it. I will fucking kill Frank if she’s hurt. Pins and needles are cutting through me while I sprint through the long hall. The house seems to have gotten bigger.

Adriano blocks my way
as I reach the first stairwell and asks, concerned, “
Cosa è successo”?
What happened? “Calm down, Luca.”

“Get the fuck out of my way,” I whisper yell. I jostle him away with both hands, but before I descend the stairs, I look back at a stunned Adriano. “Go close my office door.
Subito!
” Now!
I race down but halt mid stairs when I spot James at the bottom.

What is he doing back already?

He wasn’t supposed to be in until tomorrow. Grasping the railing, I’m agitated and ready to blow. 

Stay.
Calm.

I roll my neck as my head is pounding in unease. “James,” I greet as evenly as I can, meeting him at the bottom of the steps.

James studies my nervous state. “Do we have a problem? I overheard Damian in the living room.” James points his thumb over his shoulder toward Damian, standing in the doorway - who fires me an apologetic look.

Shit! James knows. Now I can’t release her tonight anymore.

I glance at the door to my right that leads to the basement and see that door closing; someone just walked in or out. “No, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

James eyes are focused on his phone screen as he distractedly says, “Fine.” He looks up. “You okay?”