Page 133 of Sweet Collateral


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I clasp the phone between my hands and release a long breath, trying to tamp down my crushing disappointment. Pushing to my feet, I leave the office and walk through the warehouse. The factory floor is in full swing, with girls packing coke and the guys loading it into crates ready for shipping. This is my domain, my empire, something that meant everything until her, and now I find a hollow kind of satisfaction in it.

Carlos and Lucas checking over a shipment of weapons we just received from the Russians when I approach them.

“Lucas.”

I jerk my head to the side and he drops what he’s doing and rushes after me. I lead him back to the office and close the door. The kid looks like he’s about to shit himself. “Sit,” I say, clapping a hand over his shoulder. He does, his spine bolt straight. “Calm down, Lucas.”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No.” I swipe a hand over my jaw in agitation. “I need you to call, Anna.”

He frowns. “Why?”

“You talk to her, don’t you?”

“Well, yeah, but…I mean, it’s not…it’s not like that…”

“I know.”

“We’re friends.”

“I know. Which is why I need you to call her.”

“And say what?”

I inhale a deep breath and reach for a cigar from my jacket pocket. “Just talk to her.” I just need to hear her voice. I fucking crave it like a madman. With a sigh, he takes his phone out of his pocket and stares down at the screen, his brows tightly pinched together. He presses a few buttons. “Put it on speaker.” I feel like a complete creep, but this is what I’m reduced to. This is what the girl does to me. I sent her away to keep her safe, but as the days go by, it’s starting to feel like I simply cut off my own oxygen supply.

Lucas’ lips press together in a hard line, and I can see the indecision written all over his face. “You aren’t being disloyal, Lucas. I just want to hear her voice,” I admit. Weak. It’s so weak, but I’m beyond caring. She’s my one weakness.

On a resigned nod, he dials her number, and I listen to the foreign ringtone indicating that she’s an entire country away from me. It rings and rings until finally, she picks up. “Lucas,” she says, and she sounds both relieved and bitterly sad.

“Anna. How are you?”

“I’m fine.” She doesn’t sound fine though, and that constant ache in my chest digs in just a little harder. “How is your rehab going?”

“Good. I’m walking almost completely without a limp now.”

“I’m so proud of you,” she says, her voice softening the same way it always does around Lucas. She’s always been fond of him. “How are all the guys?”

Lucas glances up at me, fidgeting in his seat. “As good as they can be. Still grieving.”

“Of course,” she whispers. “I still feel terrible that I wasn’t at the funeral.”

“It’s okay. I told you; Maria wouldn’t want you in danger.”

There’s a long pause, and I can practically feel the tension from here. “I would have been there if I could. For him.”

He avoids my gaze. “I know.”

“How is he now?” she asks quietly, and suddenly I feel like an intruder. How is he now? That implies she’s asked the question before.

Lucas looks at me as he speaks. “He’s Rafael D’Cruze. He’ll make sure her killers atone for it.”

“That’s what worries me.”

“You haven’t been answering his calls.”

“I can’t talk to him, Lucas. It hurts too much.”

“You can’t avoid him forever. I mean, you’re coming back, aren’t you?”

There’s a long pause. “I don’t think I can.”

My heart jolts in my chest, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from speaking up, because as much as I’m fucking bleeding for her, I know she shouldn’t come back. And how much of a selfish bastard does that make me for trying to call her? How twisted am I that I need to hear her voice so badly that I’m making Lucas betray her trust.

“I need you to come back, Anna.”

“You’re my best friend, Lucas. I love you. I’m only a phone call away.”

I clench my fists as she says those three words to him. I love you. They should be mine and mine alone, but he’s the person she wants to talk to. He’s her comfort, and I’m her pain. I know that, and I fucking hate it. There’s the faint sound of a baby’s cry in the background. “I have to go, but we’ll speak soon. Okay?”

“Okay,” he whispers. The line goes dead, and it takes a few seconds for Lucas to look at me.

Leaning back in my chair, I drag a hand through my hair. “Thank you.”

“You’re going to bring her back, right?”

I place my cigar between my lips and light it. “Not if I can avoid it.”

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