Dirty War Page 7

  “He shouldn’t—”

  “Stop.” I hold up my hand, backing away even more. “We’re going to have to agree to disagree on that one. I’m going to find him or at least ensure someone at the department finds him, whether you like it or not. This is not up for negotiation. In fact, this topic is done.”

  “Brianna.”

  “Connie sent me a message earlier. I can go back home when I’m ready. My condo was released.”

  “You are coming home with me, goddammit.”

  “She said no, Robert.” We both turn, seeing Drago standing in the doorway. “How many ways does she need to tell you the same thing?”

  “Stay out of this, Acerbi.”

  “This is my house, so that’s not going to happen.” His words are full of authority. It’s rare anyone takes that sort of tone with my father. Not even Jackson does.

  “Dad,” I say, turning my body halfway between him and Drago. “We’re done. Thank you for telling me about Mom, and I did hear every word. But I’m still not leaving with you. And as far as Jackson is concerned, I’d rather my brother and his family not know about this. I don’t want to put them at risk because of my involvement.”

  He looks down at me before sighing. Then he takes a step forward, placing his warm palms on my cheeks, his breath drifts across my face. “You know, you are a lot like me too. When you have your mind set on something of absolute importance you don’t compromise either.”

  My eyes cut to the side, thinking. He’s right about that. I like things my way. Is that so wrong? In this case, I know it’s not.

  “I won’t say a word to your brother, but you will keep me informed. I have to know you’re safe. And that is not up for discussion. I don’t give a damn that you’re twenty-nine. You’ll always be my baby.” He pauses, letting it all sink in. “Got it?”

  “Yeah, I got it,” I agree because I know how I feel about Gabriel when he’s not even mine. For once, I think I might understand where my dad is coming from.

  He leans forward, kissing the top of my head.

  “I love you, Dad,” I tell him just as he releases me to leave.

  After my dad left this morning, Drago and I stayed in a locked stare, standing out on his covered patio, not speaking a single word. He finally stalked off, presumably to his office. But in the few minutes our eyes were locked, so much passed through us. Heat, want, disdain, anger, sorrow, and something else, something stronger, I think, but I honestly can’t be sure if he hates me right now or if he just feels guilty for Diaz trying to end my life . . . or if he’s trying to lock down feelings he doesn’t want me to see.

  I’ve been wracking my brain all day on what I need to do; where I should even start.

  I tried calling Ms. Lincoln, but her son answered her phone, politely asking me not to call his mother ever again. I really can’t blame him. She wasn’t injured, thank God. But she was scared for her life while Sebastian had her tied up to one of her dining room chairs with a handkerchief around her mouth to muffle her screams for help.

  I feel terrible that happened because of me. All because I enlisted her help, caring for Gabriel. It should have never happened. She should never have been involved—which is another reason I don’t want the rest of my family knowing anything about what’s happened.

  My dad thinks there’s a chance of me going into a deep depression over the loss of my baby. But if something were to ever happen to Jackson or Alana or one of the kids because of me, that’s when he would have cause for worry.

  I’ll eventually deal with the things I’ve shut off, and I’ll be fine. At least I hope I will.

  I pick up my smartphone, turning it so that the screen lights up, showing no new notifications or any missed calls or text messages. Every time I look at the screen, my heart dies a little more inside because the hope of Gabe being okay dwindles.

  “Will you please stop checking your phone while we’re eating?” Drago asks in a not-so-polite kind of way.

  It was more of an order than not, and it successfully pisses me off. He knows what I’m doing. He knows why I’m doing it. So why the fuck is he making a big deal of it?

  “No,” I say in a strained voice, holding back an outburst that would be rude to display in front of his family. And with Luca’s daughter at the table, I won’t, no matter how much Drago deserves streams of profanity thrown at him. He’s being unreasonable.

  “A word,” he bites out as he stands, his chair sliding across the floor, echoing his displeased expression.

  Like I give a damn in this moment.

  He knows I have one thing on my mind and one thing only, yet he insisted I join them all for dinner. Mona cooked a wonderful meal that smells divine, but my appetite is nonexistent. If I force it, it would only mean I’ll end up in the bathroom puking it all up later.

  Following him out of the formal dining room, and then through the living room, he bypasses the stairwell, turning and heading down the hall to his office if I’d have to guess.

  I’m right. He turns the knob on the closed door, opening it and disappearing inside as I’m still trailing, slowing my pace the closer I get. Dread develops in the pit of my stomach. Whatever this is, it isn’t going to end well for either of us.

  That much I know.

  When I walk in, I close the door, leaning against it and staying as far away from him as possible. He’s standing in front of his desk, his ass propped against the edge, looking at me with his arms crossed over his large chest.

  I want nothing more than to go to him, climb up his body and lose myself in his touch. He has the ability to make me forget as well as he can make me remember things. Turning everything off, forgetting everything that’s happened—even for a little while—would be welcoming. And he’s right there. The problem is, I can’t allow that. Every minute, every second I spend not focused on Gabriel is every second I lose what little hope I have left.

  “Say whatever it is you have to say and get it over with.” There’s no reason to beat around the bush.

  “Goddammit, Brianna.”

  “Oh, so I’m Brianna, now?”

  His face reddens as his jaw turns to steel.

  Good, I think, feeling a moment of triumph, knowing that I got under his skin. Even if it was only for a second.

  “You were almost killed,” he barks. Unfolding his long arms, they fall to his sides. As if trying to hit his point home, he smacks the top of his desk with his palm. “You almost died because of me. Do you get that?”

  “I was there, so yeah, I’m pretty sure it was crystal fucking clear.”

  “This isn’t the time to be a fucking smart-ass.”

  “Well, hallelujah, you do have the capability of getting something right,” I retort.

  “If you aren’t going to eat, then take your ass upstairs and get some rest, but first, hand over that phone.” His arm rises, palm held out, waiting for me.

  I stand there dumbfounded, not believing the words that fell out of his mouth just now. I almost want to laugh, because now he’s spit out the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard.

  “I’m waiting.”

  “And you’ll be waiting until the end of time.” I’m not going to hand over my phone like I’m some teenager getting grounded by her daddy.

  “You need to take a step back from all this shit, Bri.” His hands go to his hips. “You might be alive, thank God, but our baby isn’t. It was murdered just like you were supposed to be.”

  I have to lock my jaw in order to hold myself upright. I’m not ready for this conversation. Not today. Probably not tomorrow either, but that doesn’t stop him from continuing.

  “And my—” His voice cuts off abruptly with Drago taking a breath while shaking his head. My head leans to the side, stretching the muscle in my neck as my eyes squint at him. Was he about to say, my son? Was he about to acknowledge Gabe as his? “That boy was stolen, fucking kidnapped right under my nose. If you had—”

  “If I’d what?” I demand, realizing exactly what h
e’s thinking. I’ve thought it too in the last three days. It’s a thought that will not go away no matter how hard I try to pretend it isn’t so.

  It was my fault.

  “If you would have told me about him, I would have known to protect him. I wouldn’t have let him get taken by a goddamn drug lord.”

  My stomach plummets to the floor and something deeper sinks into my chest. It hurts. I knew he blamed me. I’ve seen it mocking me, silently yelling at me through his eyes for days.

  “You don’t think I have regrets.” I throw my hands up. “I had a job to do. I couldn’t tell you no matter how much I wanted to. I would have lost my job if I’d broken protocol.” It ate at me keeping the truth from him. And now that my job is hanging in the balance, maybe he’s right. Maybe if I’d revealed the truth about Gabriel then maybe he wouldn’t have been at my place, and maybe he wouldn’t have been taken to be used as a pawn in Diaz’s plan.

  “Fuck protocol. It’s a job, Bri. It doesn’t come before us. Before what you think is the truth,” he yells.

  “What the fuck does that mean? What I think is the truth? I’m not following here.”

  “You’ve thought from the beginning that boy was mine.”

  “He is your son,” I retort, cutting anything else he was going to say off.

  “No, you think he is. There is a difference, and if you’d—”

  “What the fuck!” I yell. “Don’t be a dick right now. He’s. Your. Son.”

  “Enough of this fucking shit already. He’s not. Whatever, whoever, made you believe he was, is playing you for a fool. Can’t you see that?”

  “No.” My eyes widen as my head shakes from side to side. “If there is one thing I do know for sure, it’s that Gabriel is your flesh and blood. It’s your DNA he shares with that cunt bitch of a mother of his.”

  “I never fucked her. It isn’t possible.”

  “You got drunk when you decided to fuck me without a condom. Maybe you got drunk and fucked her too.”

  His mouth opens, showing me perfectly shaped teeth as he grits them like a dog does right before a growl escapes its chops.

  “I might have had a lot more to drink that night than I normally do, but I still remember every moment I was inside you—unlike you,” he jabs back, throwing in my face once again the night I can’t remember; the night we created the baby we lost.

  “You’ll have to acknowledge him eventually, D. Whether it’s today, tomorrow, or next fucking week. He is yours. Learn to accept it and help me get him back.”

  “I’m done with this.” His head glides from side to side. “We aren’t doing this anymore. It’s done, Bri.”

  “It’s not done until he’s safely home with us.”

  “No,” he barks out in the harshest tone I’ve ever heard come past his lips. “This”—he points between us—“is done. I’ll have Luca take you to your dad’s. Robert was right. You should stay with him. Or better yet, go to your brother’s and get away from all of this.”

  I’m momentarily stunned. I don’t know what to say or do. He just broke up with me like it’s nothing. Like we’re nothing.

  “Fuck. You.”

  I turn around, pulling the door open with so much force it hits the wall as I storm out of Drago’s home office.

  9

  Does he really think I’d go running to my daddy? I swear, it’s like he doesn’t even know me. And hell, maybe he doesn’t. We’ve only known each other just over two months and it’s not like we’ve spent every moment together. Relationship growth takes time and commitment—which apparently he wasn’t up for.

  “Where . . . to?” Luca asks from the driver’s seat of his Tahoe. He couldn’t hide the awkwardness from his tone even if he wanted to.

  “Head toward Pacific Palisades. I live in a condo off Temescal Canyon.”

  “D said I was—”

  “D can kiss my ass!”

  “Bad word! Bad word! Bad word!” Mia chants from behind me. “You in trouble, Beee.” She giggles, making the ache in my chest lessen momentarily.

  “It’s Bri,” Luca corrects.

  “That’s what I said, Daddy.” Her words come out like a pout, but I don’t turn around in my seat to check.

  “Sorry,” I tell him.

  “Not like she hasn’t heard worse,” he admits, his voice coming out resigned.

  “What’s that mean?” I ask, curious about his change in demeanor.

  Rolling his head sideways, he looks at me as he slows at the end of Drago’s driveway. “Not a convo for little ears.”

  I nod, understanding he doesn’t want to talk about it in front of his daughter. Luca just gained a little more of my respect with this answer. It shows what type of father and person he is.

  “Mia’s mom’s condo is on the way. Do you mind if I drop her off first?”

  “Not at all.”

  “No home!” Mia whines. “Stay with you.”

  “Sorry, Mia-bug.” Luca’s eyes glance up, looking at her through the rearview mirror. “But you get to go see Nana and Pop. That’s exciting, right?”

  Luca isn’t excited. That’s very apparent in his tone and the way his forearms strain every time he tightens his hands around the steering wheel.

  I wonder what their story is?

  It’s a fifteen-minute drive before he pulls off the highway, and then another five until he’s turning into a high-rise condominium complex that screams luxury from the outside. Each building, or tower rather, is designed with panoramic views.

  “Her mom sure lives in a nice place,” I can’t help but comment. If Luca is twenty-two, how old is Mia’s mother? Maybe the girl still lives at home with her parents. Then I remember his comment about Mia going to her grandparents’, and since his mom is no longer living and his dad is out of the country, that can only mean she’s going to her maternal grandparents’. That must mean this is Mia’s mother’s residence.

  A dry laugh escapes his lips. “You should see the inside.”

  “Do you live here too?” I ask as Luca pulls into a vacant parking spot.

  “Nope.” Luca unbuckles his seatbelt, leaving the ignition running. “Okay, kiddo. You ready?”

  “No.” She pouts from behind me.

  “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  As he totes Mia away, my cell phone makes a sound, telling me someone has sent me a text message, so I reach down, pulling it from my purse.

  Tom: My office tomorrow, Andrews.

  Fuck!

  Guess it’s time to face whatever music waits for me. Not like I can avoid him forever. I should have gone in today, but I didn’t want to deal with the chief or Internal Affairs that’ll surely be waiting on me when I get there tomorrow.

  Me: Any particular time?

  Tom: 9am.

  Me: Yes, sir.

  Closing out of my text messaging app, I tap on the photos app, pulling up my albums and go to my Favorites folder. Tapping on the last one I took, I see a picture of Drago that I took while he was asleep in my bed last week. He looks at ease when he’s sleeping. He’s at his sexiest when he’s sacked out.

  I may be mad at him for ending us, and doing it the way he did, but I miss him more than I’m hurt.

  Sliding my finger right, I see a photo of Gabriel I snapped while getting him ready for bed one night.

  My finger presses the button on my phone, making my screen go black. I have to shut my eyes, squeezing them tight or I’ll choke up.

  He’s gone.

  He’s in danger and I have no idea how to find him or where to even start.

  For the first time in my life, I feel helpless. And it’s a feeling I hate with every fiber of my being.

  I jump, my eyes popping open, startled when the door flies open. I relax when I realize it’s Luca hopping into the SUV.

  “You okay?” he asks.

  “Yeah. Of course.” I sigh. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  His eyebrows climb up his forehead, but he doesn’t say a word.

&n
bsp; “So, I take it you and Mia’s mom aren’t a thing anymore?” I ask when he pulls his seatbelt over his body, clipping it into the lock.

  He sighs, long and hard, before grabbing the gear and pulling it into reverse.

  “We never really were a thing. We just fucked around here and there.” He smashes on the brake, and then switches the gear into drive, leaving.

  “Oh.”

  “London is a bitch. I love my daughter. I wouldn’t change anything in the world—unless I could change who her mother is. But since that isn’t possible, I’m stuck putting up with London’s shit.”

  “She that bad?”

  “She’s a stuck-up, self-entitled whore”—his head swings my way—“with a coke problem. I hate leaving my daughter with her. But I have no choice.”

  “If she has a drug problem why not go after full custody?”

  “My last name is Acerbi. The judge would think I’m the reason for her drug addiction. I can’t risk losing my little girl. And London is smart. She knows my weakness. She knows how to use Mia against me to get whatever she wants.”

  “Damn, that sucks. I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t really want to talk about my never-ending problems. So, tell me what’s really going on with you and my brother?”

  Way to flip the conversation.

  “What did D tell you?”

  “Not the truth. That much is obvious, so I want to hear it from you.”

  That’s not going to happen. I won’t lie to Luca. He doesn’t deserve that, but I can’t tell him what’s going on either. One, it should come from Drago; definitely not me. And if I’m worried about my own family finding out the details of my involvement with Drago, and that it could potentially put them in harm’s way, that’s even more of a reason why D’s family shouldn’t know either. They are even closer to the source than mine.

  Then again, maybe they’re already involved—being as they share the same last name.

  Maybe it doesn’t matter if I tell him or don’t tell him.

  Still . . . This isn’t something that he should learn from me. It’s up to Drago to tell him about Gabe.