Page 34 of A Taste Of Darkness

Sterlie Adams

I was sobbing when I reached Milo’s apartment building.

While I was desperate to find Soup and make sure she was all right, I knew my dog. She wasn’t one to run off without a clear plan of where to go.

The park was too far away, so I didn’t have to look there. Our home was near the park, so too far as well. My favorite coffee shop was just down the street, so I was sure she was there.

I was proven wrong when I spotted a little white Pomeranian in a wheelchair standing on the bottom of the enormous steps leading up to the entrance of Milo’s building. A wave of relief surged through me when she wagged her tail as much as she could the second she noticed me.

“Such a smart baby,” I said with tears in my voice as I picked her up. Soup had never been too heavy for me, she was a small dog after all, but right at this moment, I could barely hold her. It was then that I noticed my shaking hands, realizing that I had run the last five minutes with nothing but the rush of adrenaline that kept me going.

Now that I was somewhat safe, the adrenaline crashed, and I was left with a void inside of me. Every ounce of strength I thought I had was gone.

My eyelids felt heavier than normal, but I forced myself to keep my eyes open as I struggled to make my way up the stairs and into the building.

I didn’t have my phone to call Milo to let me in, I realized. Shit, right, I dropped my purse when that guy attacked me.

Turned out that if you walk into a building with blood splatters all over you, people no longer stare because you have a dog in a wheelchair.

“Ma’am, are you alright?” In seconds, the woman behind the front desk stood by my side, catching me when I finally gave in to my loss of strength and tipped over. “Miss Adams, please don’t faint.”

Was I about to?

“If you faint, Mr. Marucci is going to fire me. Please, I need this job,” she said, sounding desperate.

I didn’t know why Milo would fire anyone just because I fainted, but I forced my eyes to stay open even though everything was blurry.

The woman, whose name was Jenna if I remember correctly, walked us over to the front desk. She still held me up as she took the phone and pressed a few buttons. I guess she was calling Milo.

“Who’s Luca Venetito?” I asked. Maybe she knew. “Ventento? Venti…?” Huh. What was his name again?

“I don’t know, Ma’am,” she answered.

Whoever Luca Venti Cup was, I was sure he had something to do with Milo and why everyone was after me.

Jenna’s distress was noticeable. I could tell she wanted to run off and never return, fearing whatever Milo would do to her when he saw me right now, but she didn’t run. She stayed mostly calm when someone picked up that phone.

I regained a little bit of strength, at least enough to seat myself and Soup on the floor.

“Sir, Miss Adams is in the lobby,” she said. To me, her voice sounded like she was crying, but I didn’t see tears, even when my eyes slowly started to focus again.

“No, sir. She’s uh… I think she might’ve been in an accident. There’s blood all over—Sir?” Jenna slapped the phone, but I guess Milo hung up because she set it down and sighed. “I’m so totally fired.”

“You’re not,” I told her, looking up. I squinted my eyes because I realized it made me see clearer. “Milo wouldn’t just fire someone for nothing.”

“Oh, Ma’am, you have no idea what he’d do for y?—”

The elevator dinged. “What happened?” a deep voice snapped.

I didn’t reply because I was still stunned by how fast he made it down here, but as it seemed, he didn’t want an answer either way.

“Can you pick her up?” Milo asked Jenna. For a second, I wanted to feel offended because I was sure he was strong enough to do it himself and he simply didn’t want to, but I suppose he changed his mind. “I’m going to touch you, alright, Sterlie?” he said, and a second later, I was scooped up from the floor and set onto my feet.

Why was he always telling me this?

Milo’s hands enveloped my face as he forced me to meet his gaze. “Are you alright, cuore mio?”

I felt his hands slide down my arms, one after the other, checking for wounds that I was convinced I didn’t have.

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