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20
ANNABELLE
As I walkedinto the familiar bar where I first encountered Luca, a sense of unease drummed inside of me. There was a nagging feeling that this place held some significance to him beyond our chance meetings. I looked around, on edge. Was he involved in something?
That coin.
The club shooting.
The fact that there was no information about it in our database.
It didn’t look good.
I texted Davis a singular question. “Have you ever heard of the bar, The Flask?”
Was my imagination running wild? Maybe I was reading too much into things. Maybe I was just grasping at straws. Maybe my mind had been rewired to think everyone was involved in the underground crime scene I’d been investigating for so long. Maybe the job was taking hold of me in an unhealthy way.
I hadn’t slept properly in God knows how long.
I took a seat at the bar, glancing around the dimly lit room as I waited for Luca to arrive. My mind raced, replaying the events of the past days. The absence of any records about the shooting at his club gnawed at me, but a sudden realization struck me like a lightning bolt.
Maybe I had been looking in the wrong place.
I had focused on the records within the city, assuming the incident had taken place in New York. But what if it happened outside the city limits? I hadn't checked every system in the state. I didn’t have the power to do that.
The thought brought a glimmer of hope and an ease of the building pressure in my chest.
There was a chance that I had overlooked a crucial piece of information.
I still wasn’t sure why I came. Having the suspicions that I did.
Call it curiosity to learn more.
Call it stupidity.
Call it whatever you want but when he walked through the door, I felt my heart lurch into my throat.
He wore a tight black shirt that hugged his muscles in such a way that I could see every contour.
Taking a deep breath, I reminded myself not to jump to conclusions prematurely tonight, but also to be a little cautious.
I reminded myself not to get swept away.
It was entirely possible that my mind was conjuring up wild scenarios, linking Luca to the mob solely based on the coin and the secrecy surrounding the shooting. But it was also possible I was right.
The closer he got to me, and the moment I smelled his tobacco vanilla cologne, I knew the odds were that my mind was playing tricks on me. He smiled at me. His eyes were soft. Caring. Beautiful.
I couldn’t help but smile.
There was no way that the man I’d hooked up with would have ties to organized crime, right?
This man?
The chances had to be slim at best.
Besides, I was been wrong about something being wrong with my dad. Clearly, my instincts weren’t always in tune.
As I leaned against the bar, the surroundings offering a hint of comfort, I forced myself to relax.
