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Moments later, he and I are walking down a narrow, mostly empty corridor, our hands clasped.
“One time,” he pants, “when you were…in college…I stole a…photo…of you…from your dad’s house.”
“What?” I laugh at the randomness of this confession, and he gives me an exhausted smile.
“I’ll show you.”
“Yes, you have to. I want to see this picture that prompted you to steal it.”
His thumb rubs the top of my hand. Then we’re at the exit door. I hesitate, and he says, “Act like…it’s normal.”
I push the door open, and we’re in a patch of grass. We’re at the side of the hospital. “Perfect! This is where I hoped we’d come out. Dani’s just behind that building.” I point to a narrow, red brick number.
He nods, and I feel him straining to pick up the pace. His hand clutches mine. “I think I know…what you’re doing,” he whispers. “Is Ree…gonna say she…saw someone get hit?”
“Yeah, she’s going to do it anonymously. I thought she could say the person had some bandages and no shirt. That way, when we disappear to Timbuktu, maybe the Armenians will think someone already took you out.” I laugh hoarsely. “I don’t know.”
“You wanna…disappear with me?” He smiles, looking drained.
“Oh yes.” I bite my lip before disclosing what I’ve found out in the last few days. “Dani’s been in touch with Max. She told me Max said Aren’s been obsessing over me for a while. And you’ve been trying to keep him at bay. But it all blew up because he acted like he was suspicious you were turning on him, re the human trafficking. But he was only doing that because he was in fact turning on you. So Max said when you talked to the FBI to explain things, that screwed Aren over. If you’re not really a human trafficker…then the only person who could possibly be in trouble with the FBI for all that stuff was him.”
Luca nods as we approach a curb that divides parking lots.
“You ready for a step up?”
His hand tightens on my arm, but he says nothing as we start through some patchy grass toward the back of the corporate headquarters, where Dani waits in our getaway car.
“There she is—you see that little silver Accord? Once we get in there, you can relax.”
His lips twitch. “I’m fine.”
But my guy is bluffing. As soon as we duck into the car and he thanks Dani for the pillow and blanket she brought, he wraps his arm around me. I fold Dani’s feather pillow over my shoulder. He lays his head right there and falls asleep.* * *I wake up in a familiar room I can’t quite place, with a pair of blue eyes on me.
“Hi there.” Luca smiles softly.
I blink around, feeling confused and a bit self-conscious. I frown around Ree’s room, and then up at Luca. Oh, wait, I remember now—we came here with Dani.
We’re in Ree’s double bed, and Luca’s leaning back against some pillows. I’m lying flat, my head near his hip.
“How are you?” I murmur.
“Okay.” His lips curve a little as he looks down at me. “Enjoying a rare luxury.”
“Sleep?”
He smiles. “Watching you sleep.”
I cover my face with my hand, and his fingers delve into my hair. “I probably look like something that the cat dragged in,” I whisper.
“You look perfect.”
I sit up so I can see him better. “You look rested. Did you sleep?”
He laughs softly, looking embarrassed. “I don’t know. I think maybe.” His gaze moves around the room. “Where the fuck are we?”
I can’t help laughing, too. “This is Ree’s house. When we got here, you were out of it. Dani can’t swallow pills—or like, she won’t—so she had some pain patches, which she brought in the car. You were sleeping, but I stuck one of them on your arm. When we got here, you were feeling better. I don’t think you cared where we were. But a little while ago, you woke up and pulled it off and muttered something like ‘dammit, Elise!’”
He smiles, looking puzzled. “I don’t think that happened.”
I laugh, holding up the crumpled patch. “You want to put it back on?”
He shakes his head. “No way.”
“How do you feel?”
He sits up slightly straighter. “I feel like you and your friends…kidnapped me. And maybe…someone made a call saying they saw a dude with my description…get run over?”
“Would that be an issue?” I laugh. “If it were true? I mean, it may just be a fever dream.”
“I don’t think I have a fever.” He laughs.
“Do you think I’m crazy?”
“Yes.” He grins, looking tired but amused. “What’s your goal, Miss D.A.? Sorry.” He shuts his eyes.
“It’s okay. It has a certain ring to it. And…my end goal was to run away with you.”
“What?”
“I thought we could go somewhere together. Not to Timbuktu. I got Lasik, and I get dry eyes like crazy since then. So it can’t be the desert. But I don’t know…maybe the ocean. Europe.”
