Page 17 of Killer Love

Luka

I wander the grounds alone. My father told me not to worry about it. The Zappias have security covered for the weekend but it’s a hard habit to break and honestly, I wouldn’t trust a Zappia guard to tie his own damn shoes.

The back garden is just as I remember it. It seems rules and traditions aren’t the only things the Zappias keep consistent. It’s like a page right out of my memory. Flowers and tall bushes. Even the darkness isn’t enough to overwhelm the radiant pinks and purples spilling off the leaves.

I sense movement and halt my stride. My hand moves behind me and my fingers graze the heel of the pistol stashed in my belt.

It’s not a guard. The feet are far too small, far too light. No, this movement is trained and purposeful. Covert and full of grace.

A woman.

I twist around to look into the darkness across the lawn and the darkness stares back at me behind a thick, black veil.

Sofia.

I release the grip on my gun and open my mouth to speak, but she raises a finger to keep me quiet. She turns and disappears into the trees like a steady, black mist, moving nothing but the grass beneath her toes and making no sound at all.

I follow her slowly, chasing the very essence of her while keeping my other senses locked for guards. There are two on the front lawn enjoying a shared cigarette and one in the driveway who kicks a stone as he passes by it. Another takes a piss in the trees on the other side of the garden. Each of them keeps a finger hugged around their triggers, taking their jobs as seriously as I take mine.

Following Sofia Zappia into the darkness is a sure way to get myself killed, and yet… I can’t stop walking.

She waits until I can see her again before walking into the garden shed, the same one I followed her into twelve years ago.

Instinct urges me to turn around and go back to the house. I should go to the guest room, lie down, and sleep until morning but I think of that scared girl cowering in a corner beneath the table and I keep moving.

I close the door behind us. Sofia pulls the string on a hanging bulb in the center of the room. It’s so old and dust-covered it barely illuminates the dark space, but it’s enough for me to make out her shape.

She reaches up and pulls the black veil off her head, revealing her pale, white face to me.

My breath catches in my throat. Her lips are bright red, her hair a dark brown. Her skin is perfect, like a brand-new doll. There’s more beauty in one glance of her mature face than all the landscapes of Italy and Russia combined.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” I say.

Sofia smiles without a single wrinkle on her face. “And you shouldn’t have followed me, Mr. Lutrova.”

It’s the first time I’ve ever heard her speak. Her voice fights to soothe every bit of resistance in me but I swallow the forbidden notion down where it belongs. “If they catch you—”

“The last time you spoke to me, I was whipped for it,” she says, keeping her smile even as I cringe. “Believe me, I know the consequences of this better than you do. The guards don’t patrol this far into the garden. We can speak freely here.” She steps closer and the light reflects her brown eyes back at me, bewitching me even more. “I need your help, Mr. Lutrova.”

“Luka,” I say.

She pauses. “Luka…”

Her silence lasts several moments. “What?”

“That’s…” She exhales. “That’s the first time I’ve ever addressed a man by his given name. I’m sorry, I…”

“Sofia…” I stare at her, noticing every little flinch in her face as I speak her name. “They don’t even let you say a man’s name?”

“It’s a sign of disrespect,” she says, her eyes grazing the floor. “Only equals may be so informal.”

“Not even Gio’s?”

“Especially not Gio’s.” To my surprise, she chuckles. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to…”

“Stop apologizing. You’ve done nothing wrong to me.” Sofia looks up and nods. “You said you needed my help.”

She licks her red lips, giving them the slightest sheen in the dim light. “You come from a very different world,” she says. “I can see it in your eyes. You find this family repulsive, don’t you?”

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