Lorenzo (Chicago Ruthless, #3)

by Sadie Kincaid

She made this house a home for me again.

“I should’ve seen it.” He places his large hands over his eyes, like he can’t bear to look at me. “What the fuck are you going on about, Max?” I ask with a snarl, a million different scenarios running through my head. “This.” He pulls a white envelope from the inside of his suit pocket. “She asked me to give it to you when the time was right, but I didn’t know it was the right time. You told me it was just sex. She was the first woman …” He shakes his head again, nervous energy radiating from him. “I didn’t realize how much she meant to you until I saw how miserable you’ve been since she left. It’s almost like when—” He coughs. “Are you talking about Mia?”

He holds out the white envelope and I see her distinctive writing. Tears well in my eyes. I slam my hands on the desk and everything on it shakes violently. “You had a letter from my wife, and you’ve kept it to yourself for over two years?” My voice is quiet. Calm. Deadly. “She made me promise, Loz.” He places the envelope on my desk. “I fucking hated keeping it from you, but she made me …”

“You kept it from me.” “She made me—” “I don’t fucking care!” “Read it and you’ll see why,” he says, his eyes brimming with tears. “I’m not sorry I kept it from you, Loz, but I am sorry I didn’t give it to you weeks ago. So you can hate me all you want, but you’ll never hate me as much as I’ll hate myself if I fucked this up for you.” “Get the fuck out!”

I hold these to my nose also and sob when I find her sweet vanilla scent.

My dearest Lorenzo.

If Max has given you this letter, it must be time. Asking you not to be mad at him for keeping it from you is like asking the sun not to set, but please know that I chose him because he loves you like a brother, yet he’s strong enough to see you in pain and still do what’s best for you.

So, you’ve met someone, right? I hope she is everything you need and want. I hope she makes you smile again, my dearest love. If I know anything though, it’s that you’ll be fighting your feelings, pushing her away and letting guilt consume you for loving her after you promised to only love me. My Lorenzo, my darling. My everything. Our love was timeless. Perfect. It will never be replicated or repeated. That doesn’t mean you can’t find a whole new kind of love. She might be exactly like me or nothing like me—all that matters is that she makes you happy. My greatest regret in leaving you comes from my fear that you will spend the rest of your life in darkness. Please don’t, my darling. It would break my heart a million times to think of you never again experiencing all the joy that life has to offer. Your love for another does not diminish your love for me, and you honor my memory by allowing your heart to beat for another.

So I’ll leave you with this—grief is the price we pay for love. Would you trade any of your pain if it meant we lost even a second of our time together?

Do not let fear of loss stop you from living, Lorenzo. And know, that no matter what you do, I will always be proud of you. So go live enough for both of us, content with the knowledge that the piece of your heart you gave me is safe in my hands for eternity. Until we meet again, my dearest love, Anya x

FOUR WEEKS LATER

I smile, ready to turn and meet my newest client. “Hey, sunshine.” Oh dear god. That voice. The deep throaty growl I know so well. My legs tremble. My knees almost buckle.

He laughs nervously. “Surprised to see me?”

“What the hell are you doing here, Lorenzo?” He rocks his head from shoulder to shoulder. “I have that twinge in my neck again.” I fold my arms over my chest and fix him with my fiercest glare. “There are plenty of good masseurs in Chicago.”

“I drove five hours to have you give me a massage though. So hadn’t we better get started? You charge by the hour, right?” Charge by the hour. Jackass! “Yes, and you got fifty-eight minutes left.” A smirk plays across his lips, and he shrugs off his shirt before placing it on the chair in the corner. “Pants as well?” he asks with a cock of one eyebrow. I sigh. “Just your shirt is fine.” He’s actually going through with this? “Where do you want me, sunshine?” Back in Chicago? Or with your head between my thighs? I can’t decide.

“Is it just your neck you’re having trouble with?” I ask, biting on my lip as warmth spreads through my core. “My back and shoulders too.” He lets out a deep groan as I work my fingers into the muscles between his shoulder blades. “You still sleeping on the sofa?” I ask and immediately regret it. I don’t need to know where he’s been sleeping. I don’t need to know anything about his life. “Uh-huh.”

“No. It’s fucking perfect.” He groans again. “But are you okay here? In Iowa?” What the hell kind of question is that? “Why are you here, Lorenzo?” “I told you, my neck.” “Yeah, right.” I stop massaging him. “Tell me why you’re here or you can leave now.” He’s quiet for a few beats. “I had to make sure you were okay, that’s all. I just needed to see you and …”

“You could’ve asked me all of this over the phone, you know. It would’ve saved you a trip.” “I told you, I needed to see you.” I swallow down a lump of sadness. “I wish you hadn’t,” I admit, dropping my hands to my sides. He turns over and sits up on the bed, and I can’t fail to notice the huge erection he’s now sporting. I guess it’s not just my body that remembers, huh? “I’ve told you before that I don’t offer those kinds of services,” I say with a nod to his groin, trying to add a little humor to defuse the increasing tension. He swings his legs off the side of the bed. “I swear I didn’t come here for that, Mia.”

“That’s not to say I’m not currently thinking about pinning you up against the wall and fucking you so hard you pass out,” he adds with a shrug. “But I came here to talk to you.”

“I need you to know why I acted like that,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. Tears prick at my eyes. “Okay. Why?” “Because it hurts so fucking much to lose you. I need you to know that it wasn’t all one-sided. You told me you loved me and I let you believe you meant nothing, when you mean more to me than I thought anyone ever could again.”

“I care about you, Mia. I really do. But I can’t let her go.” A tear runs down my cheek. I don’t bother swatting it away. “That is why we would never work, Lorenzo. Not because you still love your wife—of course you do—but because you have no idea who I am. For a man so intuitive to my emotions and my physical needs, you don’t actually know me at all.” His brow furrows. “I know you, Mia.” “No.” I shake my head. “If you knew me, you’d know that I believe every person we love makes their mark on our hearts, shaping us into the people we become. You are the man you are because of Anya. Who knows if I would’ve even liked the man you were before her? But I love the man you are now. And if you truly knew me, you’d know that I would never ask you to let her go.”

If I risk even one glance, I might break. I might accept the crumbs of affection he offers me. But I deserve more, and he was the one who helped me realize that. I close the door behind me. Closing it on him. On us.

I’m sorry I can’t be the man you deserve, sunshine. But I will always be here if you ever need me. No matter what or when or why, call me and I’ll come. X His cell phone number is scrawled at the bottom.

ONE MONTH LATER

It only took me a week to master, and now I can play it from memory. I guess Van Morrison isn’t as difficult to learn as Tchaikovsky—or maybe that damn melody is just permanently etched in my mind. Her sunshine song, she called it.

As it turns out, I still have a heart after all. It seems Mia Stone put it back together so quietly and carefully that I didn’t even notice until I felt it break all over again.

THREE MONTHS LATER

Every ounce of anger in my body is replaced with dread when I see her name on the screen. If she’s calling me, especially this early, something’s wrong.

“Mia? What’s wrong?” A loud, guttural sob echoes in my ear, and every muscle in my body tenses. I fist my free hand in the sheets but keep my voice calm. “What is it, sunshine?” “I-I …” She sobs again. “I k-killed him.” Adrenaline courses through my body. “Brad?” “Y-yeah,” she stammers.

“Are you hurt?” “I-I don’t th-think so.” I throw back the covers and jump out of bed, putting her on speaker so I can keep talking to her while I get dressed. “Where are you, Mia?” “H-home.” “Is anyone else there with you?” “N-No. I …” She cries louder, and my heart seizes in my chest. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Don’t leave the house. Don’t call anyone. You wait for me, okay?” Her gut-wrenching sobs are her only response. Fuck! “I have to make some calls. Then I’ll call you back and keep you on speaker till I get to you, okay?” After several seconds of silence, she sniffs loudly. “Y-yeah. Okay.” “I’m going to hang up now, tesoro. I’ll call you back as soon as I can.”

“What’s wrong, Loz?” “I need you to pay attention, Max.” “I’m here, buddy. What is it?” he asks, his tone laced with concern.

“What do you need?” Max asks. “I need you to get four of our best men and a removals truck over to her place in Iowa.” “I’m on it.” He sighs. “She okay?” “She will be. I’m on my way there now. I need you and the guys there as soon as you can.” “I’ll make the calls now. We’ll be there an hour after you. Tops.” “Can you call Dante too? I know they’re on vacation, but he and Kat will want to know. If you’d heard her … she was …” An image of Mia, broken and alone, makes anger and terror burn through my veins. I press my foot down on the gas. I need to get to her. “I’ll call him. You focus on getting where you need to be. I got it all covered.”