Does it help me to hold on to this? It keeps hurting me. I might see him again, if not at Luciano’s, then with Kerry, like she says. I look at him, and at how honest he actually seems, so different from that night and the threat, the promise of death he radiated. I see nothing but tenderness toward my friend, and she is so at ease with him.
Not tonight. Not right away. I need to process this. But maybe one day?
“I hear what you’re saying, and I appreciate you coming here. Can we leave it at that for now? I think we should meet up again. I do want to see your daughter.”
Kerry’s face lights up and then splits into a smile. “I’d love for you to come!”
I’m still clutching Charlie’s arm when we say our goodbyes to Kerry and Christian. My chest aches from all the conflicting emotions. I do want to move on. I’ll be wary around that man for a long time, but maybe one day I won’t?
I don’t know if I can forgive that night, but maybe I can accept that there is true change in him, and take it from there?
One week turns into two. I force myself to open my laptop and try to reconnect with my old customers. Luciano hasn’t cut my access to the bank account, but I can’t keep using his money in the long run. Every morning I pack a bag and head to a nearby coffee shop where I spend a few hours working on starting up my business again.
It’s Tuesday. It’s been two weeks and two days since I left him. Right outside the front door to the apartment complex stands a black car with tinted windows. My heart shoots to my throat and everything around me disappears. I’m transfixed by the vision. It’s him. I know it with a certainty that isn’t rational.
The back door opens and out steps Luciano in all his breathtaking glory. He’s wearing a dark gray coat over a black impeccable suit. He oozes power, wealth, strength, and a raw sensuality that makes me fight not to double over with need. My whole body screams for him to put his arms around me and never let me go again.
I can’t get a word out. I clutch my bag, but I can’t feel my limbs.
“I’m lost,” he says.
My heart skips a beat, then it begins a mad tap dance behind my breastbone.
“I’ve missed you.” I give out a short, weird sounding laugh and put my hand to my mouth. “I can’t feel my lips.”
Raising his eyebrows, he extends a hand toward me. “Come.”
“Where to?”
“Just go for a ride with me.”
“Are you kidnapping me again?”
He huffs, then shakes his head. “Just a ride.”
“I’m not right in the head,” I say as I take his hand and let him guide me into the darkness of the back of the car.
“Were you ever?” Luciano sits down next to me and closes the door as he knocks on the divider between us and the driver.
The car starts moving and I buckle up, excitement and trepidation shooting out of my ears. We drive fast, weaving through the traffic. I wait for him to speak, glancing sideways again and again, taking in his gut-clenchingly beautiful features, drinking him in. He sits with his gloved hands resting loosely, one over the other on his lap, occasionally he meets my gaze, making my heart leap every time. There’s darkness there, heat, rage and despair. I know it because it mirrors what I’ve seen in my own eyes every day for the last sixteen days.
Finally we come to a stop by a cliff edge that overlooks the bay and the Golden Gate bridge. Far below cars rush along the highway, people living their lives. My own life is either about to end, or kick start again.
The driver jumps out and opens the door. Luciano takes my hand and pulls me with him. He nods to the other man who hops back into the car and takes off. It’s windy and the waves crash against the shore far below us.
“Are you planning on pushing me? Do I know too much?”
He gives out a short laugh. “You definitely know too much.”
I swallow hard and widen my eyes, suddenly unsure of his intentions. I do know too much. I’m not with him anymore. I left. Maybe he does see me as a liability?
“Don’t look so afraid.”
“I don—”
He gives me a deadpan look and I snap my mouth closed.
“Are you afraid of me?”