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Authors: Richard Paul Evans

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BOOK: Lost December
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“Once. Just the one time. I was so drunk, I don’t even know her name.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Well, you did.”

I exhaled slowly. “I was going to tell you. I felt so guilty. But Sean talked me out of it. He said I was being selfish by trying to assuage my guilt by breaking your heart.”

She looked at me incredulously. “And you listened to him?”

I shook my head. “I know, it’s stupid. I’m really sorry. I
don’t know what else to say. I’m begging you. Please, give me another chance. It will never happen again. I promise.”

“And why should I believe you now?”

“Because you know I love you.” I looked at her hopefully. “And because you love me.”

Her eyes began to well up with tears.

“I’m so sorry,” I said.

She wiped her eyes. “I know.” She looked at me. “No more secrets.”

“No more secrets,” I said.

“If you ever do it again, I won’t give you another chance.”

“It won’t happen again.”

She let me back in the room. So much for romantic Paris.

CHAPTER
Twenty-One

We haven’t seen Sean for days.
Neither of us has suggested sending out a search party
.

Luke Crisp’s Diary

I was through with France. We’d lost Lucy and Marshall, and, frankly, with Sean now owing me more than $50,000 I wouldn’t have been too upset to lose him too. Worst of all, I had almost lost Candace. I had planned to propose to her in Paris, and now I was just lucky that she hadn’t flown home. I hoped that Italy would bring a different fate.

The next morning the three of us flew from Paris to Rome. Sean was hungover from a final night of partying and Candace was quiet most of the way.

Sean suggested we stay at the Residenza Napoleone III, which is exactly what it sounds like—the hotel had been the residence of Emperor Napoleon III during the 1830s. Considering the price of the place, I probably would have found someplace else if it wasn’t for what Candace and I had just gone through. I wanted her to be someplace special.

We didn’t see much of Sean the next week. I don’t know where he went, but we didn’t miss him. We needed the time alone to set things right. We took in the usual sights: the Colosseum and the Forum, the Spanish Steps, and the Trevi Fountain. We spent a day at Vatican City where we listened to a choir in St. Peter’s Basilica and followed a guide through the Sistine Chapel. By our third day, things between us felt good again.

We dined in three piazzas: Piazza Navona with its Bernini fountains, Piazza del Popolo with its Egyptian obelisk, and Piazza di Spagna with its marble boat churning with fresh water. By the end of our first week in Italy, we decided we’d seen enough of Rome and made plans to leave the next day by train. We planned to go to Florence, Bologna, and then Venice. We still hadn’t seen Sean and frankly I was ready to just leave him.

We had been asleep for several hours when someone pounded on our door. I checked the time on the electric alarm clock: 2:46. I turned on the lamp on the nightstand next to me and walked to the door. I looked through the door’s peephole and saw Sean standing there.

“We’re sleeping. Go away.”

“Luke, open up. It’s urgent.”

Surprisingly, he didn’t sound drunk. “Just a minute,” I said. I walked over to the closet and put on a robe.

Candace woke. “Who’s at the door?”

“It’s Sean,” I said.

“What time is it?”

“Almost three.”

“Tell him to go away.”

“I did.” I walked back to the door, opening it a crack. “C’mon, Sean. It’s two forty-five. Come back in the morning.”

“Please,” he said. His voice was pitched and nervous—just as it had been in Saint-Tropez. I opened the door and looked out. I didn’t understand what I saw. Sean was leaning against our door’s threshold. He was pale and his forehead was beaded with sweat. His hand was wrapped in a white cloth stained with blood. Even more peculiar, there were two men standing about twenty feet from him on both sides of the hall.

“What’s going on? What happened to your hand?”

“They found me,” he said.

“Who found you?” I looked back and forth between the two men. “Them?”

“They’re going to kill me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Come back to bed,” Candace said. “Tell Sean to come back in the morning.” She rolled over.

I stepped out into the hall. “What’s going on?”

Sean said, “Remember back in Saint-Tropez when we had to leave? I was gambling and I went too far. They’ve followed us all the way here.”

“Who followed you?”

“Some men I met at a bar.”

“How much did you lose?”

“Two hundred.”

“They followed you here for two hundred dollars?”

“Two hundred
thousand”
.

His words stunned me. “You lost two hundred thousand dollars?”

“Euros.”

“Euros. That’s almost three hundred thousand dollars.”

“I’m sorry, man. But you’ve got to help me. I need the money.”

“Sean, you’re already in to me at least fifty grand.”

“You know I’m good for it.”

“No, I don’t know that.” I shook my head. “That’s too much money. You need to call your father.”

“He wouldn’t give it to me.”

“He would if he knew your life was at stake.”

“Then he definitely wouldn’t give it to me,” Sean said.

“Then call your mother.”

He looked at me fearfully. “She’s cut me off too.”

“What?”

“She’s cut me off.”

Now I had real reason to be concerned. “You didn’t tell me that. You lied to me.”

“I can get the money from my uncle. But it will take a little time.” He leaned close, his eyes wide with fear. “You’ve got to help me, man. If I don’t have the money by morning, they’re going to cut off my fingers. If I don’t have it by tomorrow night, they’ll kill me.”

I looked back at the two men. I didn’t doubt that they were capable of violence. “You need to call the police.”

Sean’s eyes flashed with panic. “Are you kidding? My life would be worth nothing.” I noticed his hands were shaking. “Please, Luke. Don’t let them kill me. I’m begging you.”

I ran my fingers back through my hair. “You’re talking three hundred thousand dollars.”

“You know they’ll kill you and Candace too,” he said.

My chest constricted. “We don’t have anything to do with this.”

“They know we’re together. If they kill me, you and Candace are witnesses.”

“How do they know about me and Candace?”

“They’re right there, man,” he squeaked. “These guys tracked us from France. They know everything about us. You’ve got to get me the money. It’s our only way.”

I glanced at the men, then back at Sean. “You stupid, lying fool,” I said. “You’re going to pay me back every penny.”

“Every penny. I promise.” He looked back at the men who were staring at us. “You have to tell them what’s going on.”

“All right,” I said. “Which one’s in charge.”

“That guy,” Sean said, turning back to one side. I walked over to him with Sean. The man at the other end of the hall walked up to us. The men looked at us with a darkness that literally sent a chill through me.

“I’m going to help him out,” I said. “But we’ll have to wait for the bank to open.”

The smaller of the two men spoke in a thick accent I didn’t recognize. “There bank on Via Condotti. We be at bank at eight-thirty. If you not come bank, we kill friend. If you tell police, we kill friend and you.”

“There won’t be any problem,” I said, “I’ll get you the money.”

The man looked at his partner. He grabbed Sean by his arm and yanked him back. “You hope he have money.”

Sean looked at me fearfully. “He’ll get the money.”

“Don’t be late to bank,” the man said to me.

I didn’t sleep the rest of the night. I got up around eight. Candace was still asleep, but she woke as I was looking for my passport. I couldn’t believe how crazy this was. I couldn’t believe that I was dealing with people like this—this was something that happened in movies, not my life. I was furious at Sean for dragging us into this. Part of me wanted to let Sean suffer the consequences of his actions for once—but I had no doubt they’d kill him, and even as angry as I was at Sean, he didn’t deserve that.

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