Chapter 5 - THE SON OF A MONSTERLuca moved before the gun fired.
The bullet struck his shoulder.
He fell against me.
I screamed his name.
Marco's men returned fire.
Vittorio disappeared behind the car.
Tires screamed.
Then he was gone.
Blood covered my hands.
Again.
Frankfurt.
Matteo.
Blood.
No.
Not again.
“Luca.”
“I'm fine.”
“You were shot!”
“Shoulder.”
“That is still a body part!”
His mouth moved.
Was he smiling?
“You're yelling.”
“Because you're bleeding.”
Marco reached us.
We got Luca into the SUV.
I pressed my jacket against the wound.
He looked at my hands.
“Blair.”
“What?”
“You're shaking.”
“Shut up.”
His eyes closed.
“Luca!”
“They gave me morphine.”
“When?”
Marco held up a syringe.
I stared.
“Keep pressure,” he said.
I did.
The doctor removed the bullet at the house.
I waited outside Luca's bedroom.
Nobody asked me to.
Three hours later, the doctor left.
“He'll be fine.”
My knees nearly gave out.
I entered.
Luca was awake.
“You waited.”
“No.”
“You're terrible at lying.”
I sat beside him.
“Your father is alive.”
“Yes.”
“You thought he was dead?”
“I watched his car explode four years ago.”
“Apparently your family has a problem confirming bodies.”
Luca laughed.
Then winced.
“Don't make me laugh.”
“Then stop having ridiculous relatives.”
His expression became serious.
“My father tried to kill you.”
“Yes.”
“Because of the ledger.”
“Probably.”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“Because you can read it.”
I understood.
The ledger was useless without me.
That made me valuable.
And dangerous.
“Teach someone else.”
“What?”
“The cipher.”
I stood.
“Teach Marco. Teach twenty people.”
“Blair—”
“If I'm not the only person who can read it, killing me becomes less useful.”
Luca stared at me.
Then smiled.
“That is the first intelligent security suggestion anyone has made today.”
“Your men are idiots.”
“They're outside.”
“Good.”
By evening, five people understood Matteo's system.
By midnight, we decoded enough.
Vittorio had built an international network beneath Luca's legitimate shipping business.
People were transported inside modified freight containers.
Officials were bribed.
Witnesses disappeared.
Matteo discovered it.
Vittorio ordered his own son's death.
But Matteo survived.
One entry suggested he had been taken to Poland.
Alive.
Luca stared at the page.
“My brother could still be alive.”
Hope was dangerous.
I knew that.
But I saw it enter Luca anyway.
“We find him,” I said.
His eyes lifted.
“We?”
“Yes.”
“You should leave.”
I laughed.
“Where?”
“I can send you anywhere.”
“Your father burned my mother's house.”
Silence.
“He took Matteo.”
I stepped closer.
“He put snipers at your docks.”
Another step.
“And he shot you because of me.”
Luca's jaw tightened.
“I am not running again.”
“You could die.”
“So could you.”
“That doesn't matter.”
The words came out naturally.
I hated them.
I slapped him.
Hard.
Marco opened the door.
Saw us.
Closed it again.
Luca touched his cheek.
“Why?”
“Don't ever say your life doesn't matter.”
He stared at me.
I suddenly realized how close we were.
His breathing changed.
Mine did too.
“Blair.”
“Don't.”
“I didn't say anything.”
“Your face did.”
“What did it say?”
I should have moved.
Instead, I whispered, “Something stupid.”
Then Luca kissed me.
It was not gentle.
Neither was I.
For six years, I had been running from blood and ghosts.
For one impossible minute, I stopped.
Then the bedroom window shattered.
Luca pulled me down.
A bullet buried itself in the wall.
Wrapped around it was a photograph.
Marco retrieved it.
Matteo.
Older.
Thinner.
Alive.
Words were written across the bottom.
THURSDAY.
May you like
DOCK NINE.
BRING THE GIRL.
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