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“Yeah, it is. I don’t know if I should wait or leave, Rocco is waiting for me.”
“Is she your ride?”
“Yeah, but I guess I’ll have to catch a cab.”
“On Friday night?” He snorts. “Good luck.”
“I guess I could ask Dominic to take me,” I say, biting my lip.
“I’m headed uptown. I could take you wherever you’re going on my way home, what do you think?”
“I don’t think Rocco would be happy with that,” I say, awkwardly.
“Well, he isn’t here. What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.” He shrugs.
“No, I’ll wait for Lucia. Thank you,” I say, giving him a small smile.
“Sure,” he says leaving.
I continue to wait at the bar for another ten minutes. Lucia’s phone keeps going to voicemail, and I’m just about ready to tell Dominic about Lucia being missing when suddenly sirens ring through the club as the fire alarm blares. The club becomes pandemonium as everybody rushes to the entrance and the sprinklers turn on soaking everyone.
I finally make it through the entrance of the club, and it is complete bedlam. Snow has started to fall, thick and fast and I feel myself shiver. I curse myself for leaving my jacket at the bar as an icy wind starts to brew. None of the security men are around and I can’t spot Dominic or Damon in the crowd, which is starting to get raucous, as fights start to break out. I finally flag down a cab and give him the address on the phone. Twenty minutes later, we pull up to a large luxury high-rise apartment complex.
I can’t figure out why Rocco has asked me to come here. I know he has property in New York, but Hudson Yards is not to his taste. It is a little too gaudy for him. Rocco preferred the more authentic brownstone-styled homes of Chelsea or Brooklyn Heights.
I continue trying to get a hold of Lucia but it goes to voicemail again, snow continues to fall down hard as I feel the temperature plummet down.
“We’re here, lady,” the driver says in a thick New York accent.
“Okay,” I say, looking around curiously.
“Are you sure this is the right address? You look confused, girly.”
“Yeah, thanks,” I say, paying him.
I exit the cab as the snow starts to fall thicker on the ground. When I notice Rocco’s car is parked neatly outside, I feel reassured. I walk up to the luxury high-rise, but there is a code to get in, which I don’t know. I’m about to call the apartment number on the buzzer, but luckily somebody is leaving as I try to enter. My heels clink across the marble floor foyer as I approach the elevator and press the eighth floor. As the elevator rises, there seems to be little noise in the building.
I figure everybody must be out since it’s Friday night. When I get out of the elevator, there is a mirror on the opposite wall. I reapply my lipstick and check my hair, feeling oddly silly. It isn’t like this is the first date, Rocco is my husband.
I knock on the door, but there isn’t a reply, so I push down the door handle and surprisingly it opens. Nobody is in the living room or kitchen, yet I can hear a low murmur coming through one of the bedrooms. The door is closed, but I push it open and immediate shock filters through my system.
Rocco is standingby the bed with a woman, kneeling in front of him. Notjust any woman, but Keira Kavanagh.
I blink several times, trying to make sure this isn’t just a horrible nightmare. Keira is kneeling there in her underwear, her hands reaching for Rocco’s pants as she talks animatedly to him. Loose tendrils of her platinum blonde hair fall over a green shamrock tattoo on her lower back as her body arches needily towards him. For a second, it feels like I have left my own body and am viewing it from above, beyond reaction. Finally, Rocco senses another presence and looks up from his conversation, his face draining of blood when he sees me.
“So nice of you to join us,” Keira says, turning around and giving me a smirk. She looks like a frog that has just captured the juiciest of flies.
“Sophia,” Rocco says, pushing Keira away and trying to walk towards me, but I hold my arms up as if to defend myself from him and for a second, he appears anguished.
I stagger out of the room feeling like the air is being suffocated out of me. I hear Rocco calling my name, but I slam the apartment door and run to the elevator and jump in it before it closes. My phone is ringing, but I smash it to the ground and stamp on it with my heel in the foyer in anger. The cold air hits me like icy daggers when I walk outside. I try to breathe, but the searing pain of betrayal hits me in rolling waves.
I bite my lip to stop the tears from coming but it doesn’t work, they fall down like icy streams on my face. I hear a rustling noise behind me, and when I turn around, I feel something hit me across my face as a cloth is forced over my mouth, after that I fall into darkness.
“You weren’t supposed to walk away no more. You fucked me, and that was the worst thing you ever did.”
—Tommy Agro
IHAD CONSIDERED NOT SEEING KEIRA, BUT I WAS CURIOUS ABOUT THE INFORMATION DECLAN HAD.
