Page 68 of Weaponized

She looks visibly relieved. I ask her to stay and help me, which also brightens her mood. Together, we spend the next half hour sorting through my things. I select three pairs of pajamas, a sweatshirt, and an old blanket based entirely on Margaret’s advice. She seems elated to have been of service.

“I really do have to run now,” I tell her sadly. “Rowan reminded me that we were supposed to meet up for brunch and I had completely forgotten. I’m probably already late.”

I give air kisses to Margaret on my way out the door and thank God that I’m out of the gates and on the road before my father’s return. I head straight for Luca’s. He may want nothing to do with me,but I will give him this last piece of information. I owe him this much. Then, I can be done. I will find a way to avoid him, let him live his life without the burden of seeing me.

I’m lost in thought, trying to think of anything other than the angry mountain of a man I’m about to face. I pull up to the curb in front of the guys’ house and suck in a deep breath. I can do this. I need to do this. I should have done this a long time ago. It will now be up to him how he uses the information. I’m banking on Matteo or Anthony being here to stop him from doing anything stupid. He’ll have no reason to ever see me again once this is done.

I begin my ascent up the driveway, when I’m surprised near the front door by none other than Gianni Abruzzi. He looks pissed.

“Why are you here?” His tone is nasty. I have no idea if he hates me specifically or if it’s all women who don’t fall at his feet.

Since I’ve made the decision to get on with my life, I look at him smugly. “I came to talk to Luca. I have some information he may want.” I cock an eyebrow as if challenging him.

Gianni grabs my face in one hand so hard I’m sure it will bruise. “He doesn’t want to see you, cunt. Not sure how else to make that clear.”

I glare at him but do nothing about his hand. At least not at first. When I feel his grip relax just slightly, I use my right arm to swipe at his, causing him to release me and stumble back.

“You think you are so smart, bitch.” He comes at me then. He swings for my face and I duck. Again, he tries. On his third attempt, I weave one final time and use the flat of my hand to smash in his nose while he’s a bit off balance from his missed punch.He stumbles back, blood spurting. “Bitch!!!” he shouts and rushes forward again.

Of course, it’s hard to see through the blood and he’s already off balance. I knee him in the balls to break his momentum and then stomp on his instep. When he stumbles, I swipe his feet out from under him until he falls completely backward and hits the concrete next to the door. He seems dazed.

“You are a pathetic piece of shit,” I tell him in a low voice. His eyes flare with some sort of recognition, but I ignore it. I march back to my car. Apparently, if I’m going to get closure, it won’t be by speaking with Luca directly. Once I’m in my car, I drive, feeling around in my purse. I pull out a matte black card with silver script and dial.

* * *

“Gráinne.” Victor Larozzi stands to greet me. We are on the top floor of the public library, about fifteen minutes off campus. “You have me intrigued.”

I nod at him and motion to the little two-person study table in the corner. He follows me over, pulling out a chair for me when we reach it. So polite.

Once he is seated, I get to the point. “Did Luca or Matteo tell you much from the time when they were kidnapped?”

His head rears back and his eyebrows shoot up. I don’t believe much surprises Victor, but there is no doubt I’ve managed it.

“Did Luca or Matteo tellyoumuch from the time when they were kidnapped?” He repeats the question back to me slowly.

“Luca told me some. He told me about what happened. How he was tortured. How Matteo was forced to watch. What the room they were held in looked like.”

Victor nods at all of this. “I’m glad my son had someone to talk to.” He seems to be processing that I know anything at all.

“What did he tell you about the room he was held in? Specifically,” I continue, going for the direct approach.

Victor hesitates. I can see he is trying to determine how much, if anything, to tell me.

“It’s important,” I state calmly.

He nods. “Do you know the room?” He is leaning forward. I can tell he’s figured out why I’m here. He knows I must have some information to share.

“What did he tell you about it?” I repeat.

“He mentioned the table he was strapped to. The red floor.” He is aggravated, remembering, while at the same time, trying to gauge my reaction. He won’t find one because I am Gráinne O’Toole and I am back on my game. “A few other details.”

“I see.”

Victor wants me to know he’s heard all about the room. He just doesn’t want to volunteer details I may not know because his guard is up. I’m guessing he’s already heard what a lying whore I am. I’m surprised he hasn’t already shot me on sight, given how he feels about traitors. When I dialed his number, I knew that was a possibility.

I pull out my phone and open the camera app. I pull up the first photo and hand it to him. “Did the description match this by any chance?”

I can see when Victor understands. He is thumbing through the images.His hand is trembling. His jaw is working. His nostrils have flared.

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