Chapter 9

CHAPTERNINE

LEAVE IT TO Dom to get whatever he wanted by shoving a gun in someone’s face.

The man opened the door quickly, and it was obvious by the way he was dressed in only a wifebeater and loose boxers that he’d been dead asleep two minutes ago.

“Hurry up, then,” he said, pushing his glasses up his nose as he moved to let them inside. Luca stayed close to Dom, while Chef brought up the rear, clapping the man on the shoulder as he passed.

“Good man, Milton,” he said.

Milton muttered something that sounded like don’t have a choice, and then he looked out into the alley like he was making sure no one was following them. Once satisfied, he shut the door and began to lock up. There were several latches on the door, and it took him a hot minute to get them secured.

Luca supposed in a sketchy place like this you’d need all those locks, though he doubted they’d be any match for the two men he’d come with. Hello, they’d just broken him out of a house full of Fiores—one small apartment in an alley would be nothing.

Milton turned on a lamp, washing the room in a dim yellow light. As Luca got a good look at where they were, he subconsciously moved closer to Dom. The room was much smaller than he’d imagined, hardly big enough for the twin bed and desk pushed up against two walls. Damn, he’d thought the room he was locked up in at the Fiores’ place was small, but this was half the size. What could this guy possibly have that Dom and Chef needed?

“Two passports,” Dom said, forgoing any small talk. “And we need them now.”

Milton crossed his arms and scratched his thick brown beard, which Luca found amusing, considering the lack of hair on top of his head. “It’s three a.m. and you want a rush job? It’s gonna cost you.”

Dom narrowed his eyes. “Double, so you said. Does it look like I give a shit about any of those things? Just get it done.”

“Fine, fine,” Milton said, holding his hands up as he went over to the desk and sat down. “Who are these for?”

“Us.”

Uh…what? Is he kidding?

“Where are we going that we need passports?” Luca said.

“Shut up.”

“That’s not a place, Dom. Where are you—”

Dom clamped a hand over Luca’s mouth. “I said shut. Up. Nod if you understand.”

Luca didn’t, but something in the intensity of Dom’s expression told him it wasn’t the time to ask questions. At least not in front of this stranger.

Luca nodded, and Dom let go of him but didn’t move away.

“I’ll, uh”—Milton cleared his throat—“need your names. Whatever names you’re using for these.”

“Raoul Berruti for mine. And…” Dom shot Luca a mischievous look. “What’ll it be? Gary? Stuart? Herman, perhaps?”

Luca wrinkled his nose. “Can it be something a little more current and…I dunno, better?”

“Current and better? What do you think, Chef?”

“Hmm…Chorizo Grinder sounds good to me.”

“Oh my God, do not put that on there,” Luca said. “Just let it be…um…Silas. Silas…Wheeler.” Surely his friend wouldn’t mind Luca borrowing his first name, since it wasn’t likely they’d ever see each other again. Especially now that it was apparent Luca was leaving the damn country.

Dom didn’t look impressed by his name choice, but he nodded at Milton. “If that’s what he wants.”

If that’s what he wants?Was he serious? When did Dom ever care about what Luca wanted?

Milton produced a camera from one of the desk drawers and pulled down a white shade from the ceiling. “All right, Silas, you’re up first.”

Before Luca’s feet could move, Dom pushed him forward. Luca stood in front of the shade and looked down at what he was wearing. There were smudges of dirt everywhere from his kidnapper’s hands as well as rolling around in the trunk.

“Don’t worry about your clothes,” Milton said, focusing the lens. “I can change them.”

“Oh. Okay.” Luca smoothed his hands down his shirt and looked into Milton’s camera. “Do I smile or not smile?”

“Such an American. Just give me a neutral face.”

Luca did as he asked, and after a few snaps, it was Dom’s turn.

Damn. How was it that even in shabby clothes and his always-perfect hair out of place, Dom managed to look so unbelievably attractive? It wasn’t right. Even with his permanent scowl, he had such a presence and magnetism.

As Dom stared the camera down, Milton lifted his head. “Maybe a little less…angry.”

“I’m not angry. This is just my face.”

“Okay. Can you try a hint of a smile?”

“No. Just take the damn picture.”

Luca cracked a grin that he covered with his hand. God, the man was infuriating. Bossy and controlling. An utter ass.

But there was something beyond all that that made Luca curious. And, for some reason he couldn’t understand, attracted as hell.

“That’ll do,” Milton said, heading back to his desk and hooking the camera up to his computer. “It won’t be too long, so have a seat if you want.”

Luca looked around for a chair, but it was either Milton’s unmade bed or the floor. They all chose to stand.

A million questions were going through Luca’s head, and he couldn’t wait to get out of here to bombard Dom and Chef with them. All he knew was they were leaving the country and needed fake names. So…going into hiding? Jesus, that seemed extreme. Not just a locked door or penthouse this time, but an entirely different country? Great. Getting farther and farther away from reality, he was.

“Do you want to give me specifics for place of birth and—”

“No,” Dom said. “The details don’t matter. Just get it done.”

Milton looked annoyed but nodded and went back to typing.

Luca’s mind drifted as they waited in silence, the room thick with tension. Where were they going? Somewhere like London, maybe? Or a place completely off the grid, like a random island not even listed on a map?

He didn’t know how to feel about it all, not with the way his life had become a whirlwind lately. The lack of control was infuriating, but the lack of information was worse. He was just expected to go along with whatever someone else wanted, in this case Dom. And while he no longer seemed ready to kill Luca at any moment, the fact that he had wanted to was never far from Luca’s mind.

This was the man he was supposed to trust? He’d just learned about who he really was, and now he was expected to adopt another identity and go away? He was starting to lose his mind.

“Stop fidgeting.”

Dom’s low command made Luca snap out of his thoughts and back to the reality that was this tiny, barely lit room. He shoved his hands in his pockets so he’d stop picking at them and stifled a yawn. It’d been days since he had a really good night’s sleep. Actually, that wasn’t true. Even back at Yale he’d kept himself up worrying all night about classes, grades, rotations, being fucking perfect. Maybe he’d never actually slept great at all.

He closed his eyes, feeling like he could pass out even on his feet, and there was a very real possibility he did, because the next thing he knew, Dom nudged him.

Luca opened his eyes, and they landed on two passport booklets in Dom’s hand.

“Should I leave you here, then? Let you catch up on your beauty sleep?”

“That’ll cost you triple,” Milton said, placing a fistful of cash into a zipped bag and then shoving it in one of the desk drawers.

“No need. We’ll be taking the kid with us.” Chef produced another round of bills from his pocket and held them up between his fingers. “For your silence.”

Milton snatched the money and counted it twice before nodding. “Lips are zipped.”

Chef smiled, but it wasn’t one of the charming ones he’d given to Luca. It looked threatening and scary as hell. “Good. I’d hate to have to come back for a visit so soon.” He punctuated his words with a hard slap to Milton’s back, before leading Luca and Dom to the door.

“Oh, uh, let me get the locks,” Milton said, his voice shaking a little.

Looked like it wasn’t just Dom’s reputation that preceded him, but Chef’s too. Luca thought back to the dead bodies he’d seen at the Fiores’, and both Dom and Chef shrugging it off like it was no big deal, just an everyday occurrence.

Don’t think about that. They’re protecting you now, not threatening to dismember you. How about you keep it that way?

Milton unlatched the many locks and then moved behind the door, using it as a shield.

“Take care, Milton,” Chef said.

The door slammed shut behind them, so hard that Luca jumped.

Chef chuckled. “Eh, don’t worry. He’s harmless.”

“Yeah, I think he got your warning loud and clear,” Luca said.

“Oh yeah? I thought I was pretty pleasant.”

“For a rabid dog, maybe.”

“What? You hear that, Dom? The kid just called me a rabid dog.”

“That’s the least of what you are,” Dom replied, his eyes searching the darkness as he held his gun by his side.

Luca didn’t know how Dom could see anything in the pitch-black alley, but maybe years of playing cat and mouse had given him a few extra senses most didn’t have.

All of a sudden Dom held out his arm, stopping Luca and Chef. They all went silent, and Luca barely breathed even though his heart pounded at a rapid pace.

How could they enjoy this? At every threat Luca thought he’d piss his pants, but these two seemed to get off on it. It was crazy. This whole world was fucking nuts.

After a long moment, Dom lowered his arm and inclined his head for them to follow. Chef moved in behind Luca, who for some reason felt safer knowing he had two killers flanking him.

God. It was official. He’d lost his ever-loving mind.