Page 44 of Finding Love

“That asshole. That fucking asshole,” he snarls out, sweating worse than ever now, his skin almost gray, his breathing harsh. “He had to go and fucking say something to you about me. He told me he did. After we found out you were still alive in the hospital. They were supposed to kill you that night, but somebody dropped the fucking ball.” A high-pitched, almost crazy laugh bubbles out of him.

I don’t remember much of this man, yet the sense of betrayal is still sharp, stinging, and bitter. “You aren’t only working for the Santoro family, are you?” I whisper. “You were working for Vitali. That’s how they knew where to find us. You told him.”

“And he fucking told you about me!” he shrieks. “What, was I supposed to wait for you to remember? Where does that leave me? Floating face down in the fucking Hudson, that’s where… if your sweet Luca didn’t cut me to pieces,” he adds with a bitter chuckle. “Like I said. Sometimes, we face terrible choices. I didn’t want to have to do this.”

Luca is on the way. I only have to keep him from killing me until he gets here. When did he leave? How fast can he make it?

“I’m genuinely sorry for this.” He takes one step toward me, then another. I back away on trembling legs, my heart pounding so hard I can barely hear him over the thundering noise. “Really,” he insists as he steps over Bruce’s body.

His gaze lowers to the floor, trying to avoid stepping in the blood, I realize, and I use the chance to make a run for it. Instinct takes me to the bathroom, where I lock the door before prying the lid from the top of the toilet tank.

“You think this is going to stop me?” Craig’s voice rings out louder the closer he comes to the locked door. “You know I could shoot at this door until it’s nothing but sawdust and be out of here in seconds. Honestly, I’d rather it be that way. I don’t want to have to see you suffer.”

“Because you’re a spineless coward?” I creep back to the door, holding my breath. Slowly, I unlock the knob, praying he won’t notice. “You know Luca sent Bruce here for a reason, right? He’s on his way here. He knows what you did, and he’s going to flay you alive for it.”

Craig hesitates for a long, breathless moment before muttering, “He won’t have proof.” Then, a high-pitched whining sound fills my ears, and I only realize a second later that a bullet whizzed dangerously close to my head.

That’s all it takes for everything to go red, for something dangerous and primal to be unleashed in me. I pull the door open, long enough to recognize Craig’s slack-jawed surprise before I raise the porcelain lid to the side and swing for the fences.

“Fuck!” he shouts when I make contact with the hand holding the gun. The gun goes flying toward the living room before I swing again, but this time, he blocks the blow with an arm thrown in front of him. It’s still enough to knock him back a step. I take advantage, darting past him, racing to reach the gun lying partway under the sofa.

“You little bitch!” he howls out. I’m almost there when something heavy knocks me to the floor and forces the breath from my lungs. It’s Craig’s body, and he rolls me onto my back while I gasp for air.

All of my self-defense training comes flooding back. I use it, kicking and scratching, determined to capture his DNA, if nothing else. If I manage to claw an eye out, all the better.

“It didn’t… have to be… this way…” he growls out as we struggle, with him defending himself from my blows and me fighting to buck his much larger body off mine. I manage to drive a fist into his eye, which is almost enough to knock him off me, but when I stretch in a desperate attempt to reach the gun, he only closes his hands around my throat.

I remember reaching for a gun another time. In the bathroom. The gun was next to the toilet, just out of my reach the way it is now. The images overlap in my mind’s eye, one after the other. Luca killing my assassin. The cabin.

What difference does it make when I’m about to die?

I can’t die.

Not now.

Not like this.

The pressure against my throat increases, and I gasp, my eyes bulging, as Craig stares down at me. He’s wild, insane, shaking, growling, and babbling while spit hits my face. “Not my fault. Didn’t want to do this,” he insists, squeezing until everything starts to go gray, and I can’t fight anymore. I can’t breathe.

This is it. I’m going to die. I feel it. I hear the rattle in my throat.

Luca, I’m sorry. His image floats across my fading consciousness, and I grab onto it, holding it as my eyes close.

“What the fuck?” Craig’s sudden shout comes at the same moment the pressure miraculously lessens and allows me to take a breath. Then a sharp crack fills the air, and Craig falls to my side, eyes wide and sightless, thanks to the gruesome hole in his temple.

Someone is holding me, lifting me until I’m sitting up and gagging, choking, fighting for every sip of air. “Oh, fuck, Emilia,” someone gasps. “Oh my God.”

It’s Luca. Luca’s arms, Luca’s chest, Luca’s voice in my ear. Luca, who I love. Luca, who saved my life again. Who stood up against his father and his family to keep me alive. He was ready to turn his back on everything, all for me.

I take one huge lungful of air after another, clutching Luca’s shirt in my fists, soaking him in my tears. “I’ve got you,” he tells me repeatedly, rocking me like a baby. “I’ve got you, baby. You’re safe now. I love you. You’re safe.”

He needs to know. I have to tell him. Raising my head from his chest, I look into his dark eyes. “I remember.” It comes out as a croak, something ugly and painful. “Everything. I remember. I love you.”

He takes my face between his hands, laughing in disbelief. “You remember?”

My head bobs before I croak out three more words despite my raw throat. “Take me home?” Because now, I remember where I belong. I should have never left.

“We’ve got this,” Dante mutters. I didn’t realize until now that we aren’t alone. Cesco is already pulling on gloves ready to clean up. “Take her home. We’ll use Bruce’s car to get back.”

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