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Resting my head against hers, I hurt so badly, I can’t even see.
“I’m so sorry,” I repeat over and over again. Squeezing her against me, I rock back and forth.
What have I done?
The front door crashes open, and I don’t even flinch. I’m too numb. I don’t care who walks through.
“Luca.”Grayson’s voice echoes through the room until he steps through the kitchen. “Shit,” he mutters when he sees me.
I can’t even look at him.
“Luca. We need to go,” he says quietly.
“No. I can’t leave her. Not like this.”I cling her tighter against me, her cold skin pressing against my cheek.
“Luca. Look at me.”He grabs my shoulder, but I refuse to turn.
She’s still a little bit warm. There is still some life there before she leaves me completely.
“We can’t stay here. Luca, it’s not safe. I’m so fucking sorry.”Tears brim in his eyes.
“No. Just leave me here.” I look back at Mom, uncontrollable tears pouring from me.“I love you, Mom,” I sob.
“Luca. Please.” He snatches my gun from the floor.
He crouches back down and takes her body from my lap.
My hands lay on my knees helplessly, covered in her blood. “I-I did this. I killed my own mom.”
“No, you didn’t. These assholes will pay, I promise you. Right now, we need to leave. The police are on their way, and we have to get back for Rosa.” He pulls me up, and I stumble. Nausea washes over me in waves.
Grayson grabs onto me. “I’ve got you.”
I follow blindly. I can’t even find the strength to look up.There is only one person I need right now.
“Take me to Rosa.”
CHAPTERSIXTY-SIX
rosa
Grayson’s number goes to voicemail again. My phone that was hidden in Dante’s room now sits in my hands. Staring at the map of the address I found on Dante’s phone.
My leg bounces up and down. It’s only a ten-minute walk. Panic rises as I wonder if something happened to Luca. What if Eva is already dead?
I can’t just sit here.
I put Luca’s cell back on the table next to my passport, slip on my sneakers, and head out.
It’s a normal, middle-class looking house with a little gate at the front. The address matches. I was expecting a warehouse or something creepy looking. All the lights are out and the blinds are down.
The bolt on the gate slips easily, and I walk hastily to the front door. My hand wraps around the handle. Please don’t be locked.
I pull down and the door swings in.
There is a staircase in front of me and a closed room to my left. I ignore the fear building inside of me and open it. Letting out a sigh of relief, I discover an empty room stacked with moving boxes.
Down the hallway, I come across the next white door. I open this and, again, click the light on.
