in her wisdom, it will do no good to argue with her. She’s right about many things, so she assumes she is correct about everything. I wish it were so about my heart, but I think I’m destined to be alone, at least for now. And I’m mostly okay with that. Though a girl could use some Richard now and again, I think with a laugh I hold in.
“I will, Strega. I promise. If only I could keep my eyes open,” I say, looking pointedly at my empty cup.
She takes the hint and gets up to refill my coffee. “Decaf for you this time. It is late and I don’t want you jittery during your performance.”
“Thanks, I think.”
“Bah, you will thank me truly when you don’t fall on your head on one of your crazy kicking things.” She flicks her fingers like they’re kicking legs. And with that dismissal, she resumes flitting around the room to care for her other customers.
I take a sip of my decaf coffee, which tastes like the bitter elixir I love, but without the caffeine, what’s the point? I decide to head over to Ponte Vecchio and get up, heading to the door.
I look back, waving to Strega and not watching where I’m going. I slam into something rock-hard and solid, and I lose my balance, falling to my ass on the floor.
A large shadow looms over me. Like a cartoon, my eyes scan from booted feet, up black denim-clad legs that go on for miles, to a broad barrel chest, and finally, a scruffy jaw that’s flexing in anger at my accidental bump. I meet the man’s eyes, cold and dark beneath floppy blond hair.
“Holy shit!” I declare, more in reaction to the man’s appearance than the fact that I found myself suddenly on the floor. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
Kyle
I pull over to the curb, double parking like just about everyone does here. As long as you don’t block someone in or stay there for more than a half-hour, nobody says anything. That should be plenty of time since I’m meeting with my informant in just ten minutes.
I take a steadying breath, reaching out a thick finger to the picture taped to the dash in front of me. I trace her beautiful smile, remembering what it felt like to touch her skin and wishing I’d been able to change her fate. If only I’d known the predator lurking in her midst, the dark intentions he’d had for her.
My sweet, innocent love didn’t deserve her fate. Though she was the one who took her last breaths and whose heart stopped beating, mine did too that day. My heart shattered to jagged pieces and I haven’t had an easy breath since that moment.
The only thing I feel now is dead inside, numb. I know there’s an ocean of pain buried deep, but I refuse to let it bubble to the surface. Not while there is still vengeance to be had, retribution to be dealt, and revenge to serve.
I kiss my fingertip and press it to the picture, my print a visible mark on the shiny surface and a symbol that I will always love her. But there is work to be done.
I scan the street in front of me and use the mirrors to scope out behind me. Seeing nothing amiss, I get out of the car and head toward the coffee shop across the street.
Be discreet, the message from Raul had said. Dress plainly and sit in the corner table by the window at Strega’s at 6 PM. I will meet you there.
I’ve never been to this café, though it looks like one of thousands scattered across Italy with small sidewalk tables out front under a green awning. Through the windows, I can see warm lights and an older woman, round and grey, working her way among the few customer-filled tables.
With one last look up and down the street, I make my way to the door. A shiver of vulnerability races down my spine, and I wonder if there are eyes on me despite my surveillance of the street.
I rush inside for cover just in case. I didn’t make it this far by ignoring my instincts.
I’m barely two steps in the door when there’s a slam to my chest. I have a split-second reaction of fury, thinking someone has set me up and I’ve walked right into a trap. But in the next instant, I realize a small woman