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Carina refuses to return to her family estate, and I can’t blame her. Our own fathers’ parts in the events leading to Francis’s death isn’t something that can be as easily forgiven as my own culpability, and that’s saying something.
We’ve traveled to virtually every safe house I can think to use in this damnable city over the past few days, and the last bastion I can think of is my own apartment.
My jaw clenches every time I think of anyone hurting her. I had kept my secrets buried so deeply in fear of Carina never forgiving me. But, she did, and it wasn’t even her forgiveness over what happened with Francis that has made my love for her grow deeper but her compassion and understanding of what his death has done to me, too.
I had hoped that she might forgive me one day, but I never dared to dream that she might go so far as to understand that I lost a piece of myself that day, too. Taking Francis’s life can never be erased, and I’m sure my part in that will haunt both of us until the day we die. But we now have a chance to get through it together.
Carina fiddles with the medallion on her neck.
“No one will dare touch you at my place,” I finally say, and her fingers slip from her neck and land in her lap.
The nod of her head has me unclenching my jaw. “I need you to lie down,” I say, and immediately she doesn’t look pleased.
“You gotta be kidding me.”
“We can’t take any chances of someone seeing you.”
“Fucking A.” Continuing to gripe, she does as I say. Carina doesn’t cower, but she’s not stupid.
I can’t stop myself from reaching back and touching her cheek. “It won’t be long before we’re home.”
She smiles slightly at the word home. It seems fitting since I know that’s what it will be for both of us. I’m not letting go of Carina, not ever again.
The drive isn’t far, and I maintain a steady pace in an effort to keep the ride smooth for Carina. I don’t speak to her in case anyone is watching.
I see the blue and red strobes when we round the corner of my street and slow to a crawl. Police cruisers aren’t normal for this relatively quiet neighborhood in Brooklyn.
I bring my phone to my mouth as if I’m making a call, but I don’t press any buttons. Situations like this…there’s always an audience.
“I’m going to stop the car, but you can’t get out. There are police cruisers here. So, I’ll get out, lock the car, and get a read on the situation. Stay where you are until I come back for you.”
Carina murmurs assent, and I pretend to end the call as I park and get out. As promised, I lock the SUV and walk toward the police officers, who immediately turn to me.
One of the officers approaches me, his hand going to his service belt. I don’t recognize his face; he’s young—a rookie, maybe.
“Do you live here, sir?” he asks as I approach. I try to push down the irritation at being questioned by someone I most likely own.
The second officer stops him with a hand on his shoulder. I don’t know his name, but I’ve seen his face before.
“Why don’t you go canvas the neighbors?” He directs a nod down the street, and the officer who questioned me turns and leaves without hesitation. “Sorry about that, Mr. Marzano. We had a report from a neighbor that your apartment door was left open. I’m assuming you didn’t leave it that way.”
“Definitely not.” I shake my head and glance up toward my apartment windows like I might be able to see through the walls.
Who the fuck was in my home?
“We did a sweep to be safe and found no one, but the place was tossed. We’ll get you up there in a minute to see if there’s anything missing.”
I glance back at my car, where Carina is hidden. I said this would be the safest place she could be. That’s not looking like the case anymore.
The officer is still waiting for me to say something.
“How the fuck did someone get past the security doorman? That’s the whole reason I own a unit in this place. It should be impossible for anyone to get into my apartment, let alone rob it.”
The building is a gated complex manned by a guard rather than a traditional doorman. I also usually have a guard outside my unit, but with everything going on lately, I’ve been shifting manpower from one location to another, and resources have been a little scarce. He wasn’t here this evening.
He points to a black body bag on a gurney several yards distant. “It looks like someone got a drop on him, unfortunately, and then it was a simple matter of popping the lock on the door.”
I run a hand through my hair. “Jesus.” At least I don’t have to worry about taking Carina into the building with the police being here, I guess.
