Page 80 of Harbor

Lucia’s hands trembled as she stared at the words for longer than she needed to. They left her colder than ever, and yet, she was still firm in what she had told Renzo.

“We’re not leaving, Ren. We’re not running again.”

Just like that, all of his movements stopped. It seemed like everything slowed as he turned to face her with an expression that said he thought she had lost her damn mind.

And maybe she had.

“Do you understand—”

“I understand perfectly fine what this means,” she whispered, flipping the note over in her hand. “And I also know what I said, Ren. We can’t keep running. They’re just going to keep chasing us, anyway. That much is obvious, but they don’t even matter. It’s not about them. It’s about Diego. Right now, he panics every time he thinks we’re going to have to leave again, or God forbid he somehow convinces himself you’re going to leave and not come back. We can’t keep doing that to him. You know it.”

Renzo’s shoulders dropped. “Lucia, if we stay here—”

“They find us. I get that.”

“And they take you away. Is that what you want?”

“They can’t take me,” she said, although she wasn’t even sure if she believed her own words, to be honest. They absolutely could take her, if they wanted to. Her family could do whatever they fucking wanted to do. God knew the Marcellos had enough power, influence, and money to make the world stop turning if they wanted to. But that didn’t change what she felt about it, either. “I’m eighteen. I can make my own choices—they don’t have to like them. So what if they come here.”

“They already are here!”

She stiffened at his tone. “I—”

Renzo crossed the room in a blink, and snatched the note out of her hand. It tore in the process, but neither of them gave a damn, really. He waved the ruined note like she needed to take another look at it, or something. “They’re here! You know where I found this, huh? On my uncle’s body. Because he’s dead. They got to him—your family did that, Lucia. They wanted me to find him first; that’s why they left him where I could find him and this fucking … this fucking note,” he snapped, throwing it to the floor at their feet between them. “And you think they won’t take you just because you say you’re eighteen? Look at all they’ve done! Look at how they keep chasing us, but they’re gonna stop, right? Just because you say so, right?”

Her heart stopped for a second. She was sure it did. Like the shock and the pain of him throwing those words at her like they shouldn’t have some kind of impact—though they absolutely did—made her do a double-take of him in that moment. No wonder he hadn’t been making sense earlier. No wonder he was so fucking crazed and wild.

“Ren—”

“Lucia, think about it.”

She did.

And she understood what he was saying.

She heard him perfectly fine.

“That doesn’t change what I said. That doesn’t make it any less true, Ren. Diego can’t be moved again. It’s bad for him.”

She was going to keep saying that until he heard her. That was all there was to it.

Lucia wasn’t sure what did it—the fact she delivered the truth to him with a cold flatness, or maybe the way she just stood there, entirely unmoved by his panic. Whatever it was, Renzo’s tense stance loosened, and his arms dropped to his sides. Like all his fight was gone, and all he could do was stare at her like this was it.

The fight was done.

It was over.

“They’re coming for you,” he murmured.

“I know,” she whispered.

“So you go, then. You go … and we’ll meet back up. Right, we can do that, can’t we? We could do—”

“No.”

“Lucia.”

His words had turned desperate almost. Like there was an edge to his voice that he couldn’t hide no matter how hard he tried. There was a panic in his gaze when it landed on her.