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22
Ididn’t run after her. Thinking back, I probably should have. I didn’t know where she was or if she was okay, and that…bothered me. The look of devastation on her face was seared in my mind’s eye. The one time I thought I could be happy had been a fucking illusion. This proved a sneaking suspicion I’d buried down deep; I didn’t deserve to have what everyone else had.
Instead of going after her, I did the next best thing. I trashed my place. Wireless keyboard, books, files, vases, overturned furniture. I started in the office and methodically made my way to the living room, leaving holes in the wall in my wake.
Nicu flew into my apartment, door slapping against the wall, gun propped in both hands. Swinging it left and right, he scanned the area until he saw me.
“No one’s broken in. It’s only me, ruining my own apartment,” I declared. By this time, I’d collapsed on the floor, legs splayed open as I stared down at my bloody knuckles.
“What in the ever-loving fuck happened?” he asked, looking around in bafflement.
I might get angry and snarky. I might give a dressing-down or a verbal lashing, but I didn’t do destruction. That was more his thing. Even as a kid, if we’d both been given gifts, he’d have obliterated his toy car before dusk had fallen while I kept mine pristine in its box, taking it out on occasion to play and then safely returning it to its rightful place.
Until today.
I was so furious and hurt, that the violence exploded out of me, unimpeded. My control snapped, and I didn’t want her to see me lose my shit. That was the primary reason for making her leave.
I told Nicu that I caught Cat digging into my files and had thrown her out. She didn’t know they were dummy files, placed there in case we ever got searched by the Feds. Please, I wasn’t stupid enough to leave a paper trail of our activities. Every single transaction was encrypted and untraceable, holed up in a server farm in a converted Weimar bunker in Germany.
But that didn’t stop me from hating her betrayal. Had she played me for a fool from the beginning? I shook my head adamantly. Before finding her sprawled over my folder files, I would’ve sworn on my mother’s life that she’d never do something like that. A prickling on my nape scolded me for not listening, for not digging deeper, but I was so consumed with the need to get rid of her before I wrecked the place, I couldn’t think clearly. Fuck, I was conflicted, and I didn’t like it one bit. I should have nothing to do with her, want nothing to do with her. Instead, I felt like I’d made a mistake. Maybe I should’ve listened to her stumbling excuses. Sifted through her reasoning. For the first time, I was willing to give someone the benefit of the doubt.
I turned to Nicu, who was praising me, “Good riddance, brother. She’s a Popescu, for Christ’s sake. I could never trust another mafie female outside our family. Never.”
“That’s because you’re a suspicious motherfucker,” I grumbled.
“You can’t live in this life, even vicariously as our women do, without it tainting you. Not fucking possible. And a Popescu is as dirty as they come.”
“Stop saying that,” I snapped. I had no idea why his words were pissing me off, but they were. No, I did know. I was still protective of her. God only knows why, considering what I’d caught her doing, but there it was again. That feeling of having missed something.
“It’s true, Luca. That’s why I never allowed myself to get close to her. She’s poison. I didn’t fall for that little innocent act. Impossible for a Popescu to be innocent. It’s not in their DNA. Are you sure she was a virgin, because I had my doubts.”
“She was a virgin. I can vouch for that,” I growled as I got to my feet. Damn, his matter-of-fact acceptance of her deceit infuriated me. Lack of shock was one thing, but his lack of surprise was getting on my nerves.
“Sure about that?” he challenged, as he took a seat and lounged across my couch. “They already used fake blood to make it seem like Una had a miscarriage. Who says they wouldn’t do it for a hymen.”
“It wasn’t fake,” I ground out, pacing. Swear to God, if he kept up this line of questioning, I was going to clock him.
Nicu bent over his phone, tapping out a text. Pressing send with a flourish, he righted the upended coffee table and tossed his cell phone on top. “I just texted Alex and Tatum. They’re coming over.”
I buried my head in my hands and groaned before falling onto the couch beside Nicu. “Fucking thanks, bro. Just what I needed is those two assholes in here. Can’t catch a break.”
“Seriously? You caught her ransacking your files. This needs to be dealt with. And why did you kick her out? You should’ve locked her in a room and called us to figure out what to do with her,” he said.
“To do with her?” I pulled back and blinked at him. “What were you thinking of doing to her? You couldn’t hurt her.”
He waved his hand dismissively, even though there were strict rules of engagement. No touching women or children was one of those bright-line rules. I snorted. With Nicu, you never knew.
“Of course, I wasn’t going to hurt her.” His voice dropped to a dangerous tone. “I don’t hurt women.”
“Good to know,” I muttered.
“But that doesn’t mean you should’ve let her waltz out of here. We could have used her. Exchanged her for something. How long has she been gone? I could run her down.”
He made to get up, but I slapped a hand on his chest and shoved him back into the depths of the leather couch. “Stay there. She’s long gone.”
Fuck that. He wasn’t touching my woman. Christ, she was no longer my woman, but there was no way in hell Nicu was laying a hand on her. A vision of her kneeling at my feet, haunted eyes staring up at me, bleeding remorse and desperation, reared up. I scrubbed my eyes with the heels of my palms.
I bet her family put her up to this, those godless jackals, but it had been her choice to go with their plan. That was what hurt most. Although, she’d gone about it like she wanted to get caught. Thinking back, I realized they must have gotten to her when she’d visited them. It explained her quietness and withdrawal when I picked her up. Fuck, guilt percolated inside me. She was young and impressionable. I should have been there to protect her. Then again, she was her own woman. She should’ve chosen better. She should’ve chosen me. I gripped my forehead; a migraine was coming on.
