Merciless Vows by Faith Summers

37

Lucca

“You playing house again, Boss?” Jon asks with a smirk when I walk into the garage.

I shake my head and set my jacket down on the side. I don’t know why I wore the damn thing. It’s infernal outside. I just don’t like riding my motorcycle without it. It’s bad enough I ride around without a helmet.

Jon comes up to me. “What’s going on? I barely saw you the other night at Grigori’s party before you left.”

I stare at him and feel guilty for a lot of reasons. This man is one of my oldest friends and the closest friend I have left in this world. Yet I didn’t tell him about my discussion with Aiden, and I’ve been AWOL for the last two days because of Aria.

Something is up with her, something more than her memories or the fact that she remembered being raped.

Something happened to her at the party.

She was acting weird, and I think it had to do with Pasha. The weird behavior began the moment she saw him.

Then I remembered what he said the other day when I was at the house. He’d met her before. And she acted like she was wary of him.

Jon waves his hand in front of my face, and I blink to focus on him.

“Earth to Lucca,” he says, then starts talking in Russian about how I must have had too much sex, and it got to my head.

It’s only when he sees I’m not in the mood to mess around that he stops.

“Do we have any clients for the next few hours?” I ask.

“No. We’ve got the morning free. The first client is after lunch. I was going to use the time to catch up with you on Ivy because we still have nothing, and I’m guessing there’s nothing from Gibbs either, or you would have said.”

I decided I wasn’t going to talk to him about Aiden until the time was right, as in after the wedding. I trust Jon, but I think this is a case of being careful.

I can at least talk to him about some of the other stuff, though. I think I need to.

“Can we grab some coffee?”

“Yeah, course we can.”

“Cool.”

We head outside, grab two large cups of coffee to go, and sit at one of the tables outside the coffeehouse.

It’s early, but the morning rush is gone, so we have some privacy to talk.

“Jon, we’ve always known Raphael to be close with Grigori, but would you agree he’s not exactly that close with Pasha?” I feel it’s best to start that way then gauge his response. We both don’t particularly like Pasha, but where I might show my usual display of asshole and say something to Jon, he keeps quiet.

“I wouldn’t say he was close to Pasha at all. What’s happening now?”

“It was something Pasha said that got me thinking. I got the impression he’d seen Aria before. I thought it was weird because Raphael was always adamant his family stay out of the business, but I figured there was the off chance they’d met. She met Pasha on Saturday night, and she’s been acting weird ever since.”

Jon narrows his eyes. “Weird like how, Lucca?”

I can’t answer that question without revealing everything else Aria told me in regard to being raped. I haven’t been around too many people that it happened to, but I know what the abused look like and act like.

That is exactly how she’s behaving, and I don’t want to connect that to Pasha.

“Just weird, like she remembered him doing something. Something bad.”

He leans down onto the table and blows out a ragged breath. “Remembering Pasha doing something bad is very likely, Lucca. He’s not exactly a man who lives on the right side of the law. Have you spoken to her about it?”

“I tried, but she won’t talk about it.”

“Maybe just give her time. If the thing she remembers is bad, then she might not want to talk about it. Definitely not when she knows who Pasha is and who you’re supposed to be.” He gives me a thoughtful look as he studies my face.

I catch his meaning and catch myself in the same breath. I’m acting fickle again. Today I’m like the concerned boyfriend/ fiancé. A guy worried about his girl when we have one of the most unconventional relationships ever.

“You’re right. I just wanted to run it past you, and I guess talk about it.”

“You can always talk to me, Lucca; that’s never going to be a problem. I have to remind you of the obvious in this instance. How is she otherwise?”

“She’s starting to remember, Jon. She remembers more about meeting me.”

“Are you worried about that? You look like you are, and I haven’t seen Violet around the office.”

“She’s on leave until I decide if she’ll be coming back. I don’t want her to be a problem I don’t need. I’m contemplating not rehiring her. And as for your other question, no, I’m not worried.”

That’s a lie.

“You more than like Aria, don’t you?”

I must be as transparent as fuck if he can ask me that. It’s different when I talk to Jon because he has a woman he’s serious about.

He has a woman he loves.

I’m incapable of love because I don’t want it.

Love is one hell of a weakness I can’t afford in my life. It will get you killed, just like Timothy’s wife and child, and my mother, sisters, and brother.

They were all victims of love and would never have died if they weren’t with the men they loved.

“Question for another time, my friend,” I answer.

“Alright, I won’t push. Know this though, you guys can have a life outside the vendetta. You can start fresh outside of everything Raphael has done to you. When you pick everything apart, you’re just a girl and a guy who clearly have feelings for each other. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

I contemplate his words and allow them to sink in.

My thoughts, however, get interrupted when the sound of a speeding bike tears down the road.

The sound is so loud and intense it’s hard not to look. As I do, I see one lone motorcyclist tearing down the road.

He has a bag on his back. The moment he approaches us and reaches into the bag, I know to move.

He pulls a machine gun and starts firing at the same time Jon and I hit the ground for cover.

Bullets spray up the place bouncing off the pavement, the walls, the dirt on the path.

People scream and run away for safety. The oncoming traffic scatters as those in cars try to speed away, and it’s chaos.

Amidst the turmoil, I hear it again.

Fucking fuck, the motorcycle is coming back. I lift my head, and I see him coming faster as fuck, gun ready.

“Jon!” I call out.

“I see him, Lucca.”

“I’m taking him down.” I reach for my gun in my pocket and get ready to fire.

As he accelerates closer, he starts shooting up the place again.

I aim and fire one time only, and the bullet gets him in his head. The fucking bastard goes down, and the bike crashes into the shop window of the jewelry store.

Jon and I both stand and look to our left at the same time when we hear more motorcycles coming.

Five of them, and they all fucking look like the guy I just took down.

“Call for backup, Jon. It looks like someone really wants me dead.” I have so many enemies it could be anyone, but two people come to mind straight away—Raphael and Ivy, or more specifically, the people hiding Ivy.

I don’t have time to work out which of them it could be. Jon calls for backup while I pull my other gun from my pocket.

These fuckers probably thought I was going to run away like a pussy and hide in the corner.

I’m about to give them a rude awakening.

Instead of ducking for cover, I run out to meet the bikers, and I shoot before they do.

I hit two of them, and when their bikes crash, I run to get the one that isn’t damaged.

I get on just in time before the remaining three rounds back to get me.

Jon joins me and takes down one more, leaving me with two fuckers.

They come at me like we’re in a game of jousting, and like a knight with his lance, I hold my gun and shoot to kill. Kill is exactly what I do when the two bullets leave my gun and lodge right into the men coming for me.

As I breeze past, they go down like the fucking dogs they are but fuck me, I hear the sound again, and as I whirl the bike around, I realize I’m outnumbered when I see a gang of them coming at me.

There’s too many to do anything here.

“Get the fuck out of here, Lucca!” Jon shouts, and I flip the bike around and ride hard down the road.

If I don’t get enough distance between myself and the bikers, I’ll get shot in the back, and it will be the fucking end for me.

I jump the bike over a speed bump and ride fast down the hill. If I can get them to the park or somewhere where there’s more space, I’ll stand a chance. Unfortunately, the streets are too narrow to take on so many.

Jesus Christ, this is a fucking assassination attempt. And the fucker who orchestrated this knew how to get me. Whoever they are knew they couldn’t just send one asshole to get me. They knew they’d have to send an army for me.

And fucking hell, there’s no sound of the cops anywhere. No sirens in the distance or anything.

A shoot-out happens right on the street of downtown L. A in broad daylight, and there’s no sign of the police anywhere? Completely unheard of.

Whoever did this is good, and now I’m thinking it could definitely be the good governor with cops on his payroll to turn a blind eye.

I see the park up ahead, so I veer left, drive down the road then hop onto the grass. I blow my horn to alert the people there. When they see me riding through the grass like a mad man waving my gun, they flee.

Thank fuck it’s not too many. I don’t want innocent blood on my hands.

As the last person flees, I hear the bikes coming, and as they do, I whirl around to take them down.

I’m one crazy motherfucker on the regular, but today I’ve taken crazy to a fucking new level because I’m not even sure this will work.

I shoot as I see them coming and aim for the head every single time.

A few of them go down, and their bikes crash into some of the others, taking them down, but I’m still outnumbered. It takes mere seconds before I’m surrounded and fighting for my life.

I’m so engrossed in shooting the fuckers coming at me that I don’t even realize when my men arrive.

And thank fuck, Jon gathered the whole crew.

They come on bikes and in cars, and I can tell whoever was nearby just jumped into action and came to my aid.

My men take the rest of the assholes down, and just as I was about to ride closer to gather with them, something sharp pierces through my side.

I don’t need to check to know what it is. I’ve been shot before, so I know I got hit.

Damn it.

I ease my bike to a stop and press my hand to the blood seeping out of my shirt.

Jon rides up to me and jumps off his bike when he sees the blood.

“Jesus, Lucca, where’d they get you?”

“My side.” I get off the bike and lean against it as pain ravages through my body. “Are they all dead?” I look over the park with bodies and debris strewn everywhere.

“It looks that way.”

“Let’s go check. I just need one bastard who still draws breath to tell me who sent them.”

“But you were shot,” he insists.

“Fuck it, let’s go, Jon.”