Athena
I didn’t know when Luciano left that evening. All I remembered was waking up alone in the bed that evening, with a note saying he went out to handle some business with someone called Enzo.
It was nothing out of the ordinary of course, he didn’t generally serenade me with his plans on running his very suspect business, and I didn’t ask. The less I knew about the entire thing the better.
I had gone about my evening routine, a small shower, taking my meds and relaxing at the upstairs balcony with a novel in my hand, trying not to fall asleep. I must have failed at that because the next thing I heard, jerking me awake was the sound of incessant pounding on my door.
I sat still for a moment, wondering if I had only imagined it. The only people aware of this location were the handful of men Luciano still trusted, and none of them had called me yet. While I slept, it had started raining, the sound of the drops pattering over the roof. I checked my watch, 9:45 pm.
Nobody should be here now, not at this time.
This was a complete stranger.
I stood up slowly, making my way to my bedroom, silently praying whoever it was would just go away and not come back…
The knocks banged again, making me jump. Okay then, that was how it was going to be. I reached for my bag, pulling out a little black 1975 Beretta, checking it’s chamber for bullets. That would have to do for now.
The rhythmic pounding on the door reverberated through the silent house, shattering the stillness of the night.
I slowly made my way to the entrance, releasing the pistol’s safety latch and pointing it at the door.
“Who is it?”
“Raven it’s me,” Luciano croaked, his voice sounding strange, “open up.”
Luciano? Where were his keys?
I swung the heavy door open, my breath caught in my throat at the sight that greeted me.
Luciano, stood there supported by Enzo, his face bruised and bloodied. The distress etched on his features tore at my heart, and worry flooded my senses.
“What happened to you?” I exclaimed, my voice filled with genuine concern.
He waved off my worry with a weak smile, a flicker of pain crossing his eyes. “Oh, it’s nothing, just a minor scuffle, nothing to worry about.”
But I could see beneath the facade. His battered appearance spoke of violence and struggle far beyond a mere scuffle. Something grave had transpired, and I needed to hear the truth. It didn’t take too much to tell he was in a gunfight, and a big one at that considering how many tears were on his usually well tailored suit.
I turned to Enzo, the kid holding him up, “You were with him?”
He looked slightly dazed, like he hadn’t expected me to even notice him, “Yes, yes ma’am”
“What happened?” I asked, my voice tinged with urgency. “Tell me what. I’m here to help.”
“I think that’s okay Raven.” Luciano said, stumbling inside,.”You can go home now boy, you did well today.”
Enzo, ever vigilant, and looking even more relieved that he wouldn’t be interrogated any further, excused himself with a nod, silently disappearing into the depths of the house. Luciano and I were left alone, his disheveled state underscoring the weight of his silence. Where the hell did he get so beaten up?
He leaned heavily against the doorframe, his gaze fixed on the ground as he spoke in a hushed tone. “Raven, relax okay? It was just business, I…”
“Shut up Luciano.”
He fell silent, looking at me with his jaw clenched, his eyes grim.
“Have you received any aid? Has the wound been cleaned up?”
He shrugged, wincing a little from the effort alone and clutching his shoulder almost immediately. “Yeah, kinda.”
“You went to the hospital?”
He shook his head, “No, I just have a little apartment at some block downtown, for eh… emergencies.”
Of course he did.
“Did the bullet hit you? Do you have it gone now?”
He shook his head again. “It was just a graze. I cleaned it up as much as I could given such short notice but it is starting to bleed again.”
I nodded, going into the closet and fishing out the first aid kit the doctor had left there in case of emergencies. I pointed at the couch, “Sit.”
He looked hesitant, as though not sure of what to do.
“What? Think I am gonna slit your throat? Sit down Luciano, I have some paramedic training.” That was partly true. As part of my FBI training at Quantico, I had taken more than a few first aid classes, cleaning bullet grazes was going to be nothing.
He nodded, walking over to the couch and gently lowering himself before taking off his jacket.
The blood on his shoulder had soaked through his white T-shirt, leaving a blood red patch on his shoulder along with a rip where it had gone through. He winced as he took off the shirt, still soaked with some of the rain, sweat and of course blood.
I watched him slowly, reminding myself not to drool as his back and arm muscles rippled like waves from the effort of taken the shirt off. I had seen them a few times, damn I had even gone to bed DREAMING about them more times than I could count.
And yet seeing them again, in person, that was always a new discovery.
“Are you gonna help me or just stare?” He asked, snapping me out of my reverie. I couldn’t see his face as he was backing me, but I could tell he was smirking.
“I wasn’t staring.” I said, indignantly moving over to examine the wound.
“It’s alright,” he chuckled, “If I were you, I’d stare too.”
“Fuck off Luciano.”
His words pierced through me, eliciting a mixture of fear and determination. My loyalty towards Luciano demanded that I protect him, but my own curiosity screamed for answers.
“Luciano, I cannot simply stand back while you suffer,” I declared, my voice steady yet resolute. “I will help you through this, no matter the cost, after all, it is kinda my fault.”
“Raven,” he groaned.
“Yeah, yeah, I know we agreed I wouldn’t mention it.”
“Are you sure you know?” He asked, his voice tinged with sarcasm, “Because somehow you keep bringing it up.”
“Fine, fine.” I said, getting some methylated spirit, soaking it with some cotton wool and cleaning up the area around the wood with it while he winced.
As soon as I was done, I started stitching. The graze wasn’t too deep or large, just big enough to be very uncomfortable and he flinched at almost every cold touch of the cotton wool.
As I concentrated on the stitching, trying not to miss anything, and yet my mind kept drifting back to Luciano. Each thread of the needle was accompanied by a mounting sense of frustration and longing.
And the way he winced and grunted, in some incredibly messed up way, turned me the fuck on.
I tried desperately to convince myself that what I felt for him was nothing more than a mere infatuation, that it was all in my head.
He was kinda the dream man, rich, powerful, dangerous and devilishly handsome, how could I not be infatuated? Right?
I sighed, the weight of my unspoken emotions heavy upon me. How foolish I had been, believing that I could control my heart, that I could keep these feelings buried deep within. In a lot of ways he was like a forbidden snack. You only want a taste at first, and suddenly you can’t stop yourself from coming back for more.
I tried to find solace in the simplicity of my actions, focusing on the mundane task at hand.
I remembered Frederick’s advise about letting emotions dictate my decision making. I almost chuckled out loud, imagining what he would say if he could see me now.
Frederick…
A sense of longing creeped his way into my heart as I remembered him, gone now beyond my reach, leaving a very big Frederick sized hole in my heart.
Luciano seemed to have noticed the change in my energy because he called me almost immediately.
“Raven?”
“Mhmm?”
He turned over to me, expression etched over his handsome features, “Tell me Cara, what is it?”
He hadn’t called me that in a while. Not since this messed up civil war started, I felt my heart skip a few beats as he gently turned around, cradling my face in his calloused palms, his lips merely inches away from mine.
“Come on, tell me.”
“It’s nothing.” I muttered, moving away, “please turn around so I can finish with your stitches.”
“Not until you tell me what is going on.”
I looked up at him. It was now or never, there was no need to hide it anymore, “Where is Frederick Luciano? Where did you hide his body?”