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I pulled him into a hug. "Thank you for doing this, Luca."
Luca returned my embrace, but it lacked his usual bone-crushing enthusiasm. Instead, he cradled me like I was something precious and breakable.
"I'm not doing it for him," he said softly. "I'm doing it for you."
I leaned into his warmth and closed my eyes, breathing in the scent of his cologne. When he pulled away, his face was flushed, and I realized what I had suspected all along was true. Luca had feelings for me. The truth was I cared about him, too. I didn't love him the way he loved me, but I cared about him, all the same.
He kissed my cheek. "Go. I'll see you soon."
"Be safe, Luca."
"You, too."
He pulled a balaclava over his face. In the dark, he was just another shadow. I watched as he disappeared into the night, then turned and walked down the back alley. I had to move quickly if I was going to get there first.
The streets were quiet, and I stuck to the shadows as I made my way through the familiar backstreets. There was an unspoken rule amongst the families that kept the violence and bloodshed contained, and even with a war brewing, it was rare to see any action on the streets.
That was a small comfort. The last thing I needed was to draw attention to myself.
My heart raced as I approached the back gate. No sign of Alfie yet. I crouched in the shadows and waited, my nerves on edge. The weight of the gun pressed against my spine, and I prayed I wouldn't have to use it.
Finally, a shadow detached from the darkness. I held my breath, waiting for a shout, or worse, gunshots, but the shadow moved closer, and I recognized Alfie's familiar silhouette. I rushed forward and leapt into his arms.
"Alfie," I whispered, burying my face in the crook of his neck. He smelled of sweat and blood and gunpowder, but beneath it all was something warm and woodsy. My knees buckled, and he swept me into a protective embrace.
"Shh, shh," he whispered into my hair. "It's all right. I've got you."
His arms tightened around me, and some of the fear and tension drained from my body. All the uncertainty of the past few weeks, the heartbreak, the longing, none of it mattered anymore. Just us here, together, the fulcrum between our two families, his body strong and steady and sure beneath mine.
I knew then, in that moment, that I never wanted to be apart from him again.
I pulled back and looked up at him, drinking in the sight of his face. He looked pale and tired, but his eyes were bright and his expression was fierce.
"I was so worried.” My voice cracked. "I thought I'd never see you again."
"I'm here now," he said. "And I'm not going anywhere without you."
One of the men standing behind Alfie stepped up. His eyes were the palest blue I'd ever seen, almost inhuman against his coal black hair. "Can you get us inside?"
I recognized Connor's thick Irish accent from Alfie's stories, and my heart broke for him. "In a moment. My friend Luca is creating a distraction."
Alfie's eyebrows raised. "He's doing that for us?"
"Jesus Christ, Doyle! How many of these fuckers are we going to trust?" The big man standing next to Connor glowered at me, murderous expression terrifying beneath his fauxhawk.
Alfie's grip on me tightened, but before he could say anything, I interrupted. "You can trust Luca. He's been helping me. And he's the one who told me that this was a trap."
"And how does he know?" Tommy asked, his expression suspicious.
"He's a capo for Lorenzo."
"A fucking capo? Are you out of your mind?" Tommy threw up his hands. "We can't trust him, Connor. He'll kill us all. Let's just go, now, and take out as many of these bastards as we can."
"Luca is the only reason Alfie is alive," I said. "He saved his life when he didn't have to."
Tommy looked at me, then at Alfie. "Is that true?"
"Yes."
