Life of a Fool (London Brothers Book 2) (4 page)

“Keep trying, man.  We don’t need to stay here even one more
minute longer than necessary.”

“Sure thing.”  Craig turned back around in his chair and
continued the search on his phone.  I peeked at Lori Ann to see her reaction,
but she hadn’t moved.  Her stillness and silence were unnerving.  I couldn’t
tell what was going through her mind. 

“Hey,” I said as I touched her arm.  She flinched and jerked
her head up off the seat to look at me.  I kept my arm where it was, but saw
fear flash through her eyes for a split second before her brain registered it
was me touching her.  “Talk to me.”

“I just want to get away from here, that’s all.”  She was
lying.  Or at least telling a half-truth.

The telltale sign of a text coming through on her phone had
Lori Ann reaching into her purse to see who had messaged her.  I held my breath
and watched her face again.

“It’s Antonio.  I didn’t think one call would be all I would
get.  This is just the beginning, Jason.  You have no idea.”  With a slight
shake of her head, she stared into her lap and tossed me the phone.

Antonio:  WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?  You will return if
you know what’s good for you.  Who are you with?  Were those men I saw you
leaving with?  You know better than to not answer when I call, amore mio. 
My
love.
  Don’t make me remind you again.  I will find you.

I fought like hell not to tell the driver to turn around so
Craig and I could have a little chat with The Italian.  This sick, twisted
thrill passed through my body at the thought of tearing his body apart.  Craig
was looking back at me, watching my face.  When I made eye contact, his
eyebrows shot up and a smirk crossed his lips.  He knew exactly what I was
thinking. 

I handed Lori Ann’s phone to him and waited until he
finished reading the text.  I heard him growl the word “fuck” right before he
handed me back the phone.  We just stared at each other having one of our
silent conversations.

“If she weren’t in this car, we’d be turning around.”

“You’re damn right, Craig.”

“Let me have the first hit.”

“Nope.” My head shook slightly. “But you can have the
second.”

“He’s a dead man.”

“Agreed.”

I waited another minute before I spoke out loud.  I needed
to control the anger that was seeping out of every pore of my body.  “I’m not
going to ask you to explain what all of that meant right now.  I know a threat
when I see one.  But you
will
tell me soon.  I needed to know what kind
of bastard we’re dealing with, Legs.”

Lori Ann didn’t say a word.  She just nodded her head, then
slowly leaned her body toward mine and rested her head on my shoulder.  I didn’t
miss the fact that the movement caused her physical pain.  It was all over her
beautiful face.  Right before her head touched my shoulder, I lifted my arm and
wrapped it around her, pulling her closer.  I kissed the top of her soft brown
hair and whispered, “You’re safe now.  I’m here.”

I felt Lori Ann’s body shake as she let the tears fall.  I
hated it.  This wasn’t my strong, independent friend I’d known most of my
life.  She was broken, and the bastard that did it to her still believed she
was his.  No. Fucking. Way. 

He’d never lay eyes or anything else on
my Lori Ann
again.  That was for sure.

I couldn’t believe it.  Jason
London was standing at my door, along with our dear friend Craig, and they had
come to get me…to save me. 

*****

The broken arm, cracked ribs, and bruises were it.  I had to
get away before I ended up dead.

Antonio DiSabatino was wonderful when we first met.  He was
tall, about 6 feet, two inches with hazel eyes and dark brown hair that was
sprinkled with a bit of gray.  It made him seem authoritative and sexy.  His
voice was deep, and when he spoke English with his Italian accent, my whole
body tingled.  I loved his strong personality and commanding presence.  I
thought we were a good match seeing as how I had a similar temperament.  That
was until something changed in my husband and our healthy clashes of opinion
became violent.

The first time was a little over a year ago…when Antonio had
gotten really pissed over a playful text between me and Jason, so I stopped
talking to my very best friend, the one who’d been through every up and down of
my life, hoping to satisfy his need “keep me.” But my husband’s jealousy
worsened.  Every little thing I did set him off. 

It started with yelling, then degrading, then he pushed me
one night in our bedroom after our heated argument over the text with Jason. 
Granted, I’d slapped him for calling me a whore, but he pushed hard enough that
my body flew backwards, hitting a wall and leaving a huge knot on my skull,
causing a concussion.

When he immediately knelt beside me and apologized with
tears in his eyes, I felt bad for the whole incident.  Things had changed
between me and my Italian lover husband.  He was different. 

Antonio didn’t know I took myself to the doctor the next day
when the headache and dizziness wouldn’t subside.  Knowing there was a medical
record to go with my injury would have been catastrophic.  I had to go
searching for answers for my husband’s erratic, explosive behavior.  It just
wasn’t like him at all. 

It took six months, a very expensive private investigator
from a remote area of Italy—one who didn’t have personal ties to Antonio and
his family—and lots and lots of secret observation by me to find the proof I
needed.  Not only was he was into some deep shit with a few ruthless people, but
he was fucking one of the twenty-something daughters of one of the men he was
in “business” with.  It made me physically sick, and I was ready to escape…I
had
to get away.  I just couldn’t believe my life had turned into a dammed movie. 
So, I started stockpiling money here and there, but when Antonio spotted a few
transactions on our bank account, ones I thought I’d made on my own
account—stupid mistake—he questioned me, and I let my rage take over and
blurted out everything I knew…well, almost everything I knew. 

I accused him of having an affair, and he fucking lost it. 
One thing I knew for sure; you don’t ever tell an Italian man that he’s
wrong—about anything.  I’d never seen him so enraged.  It was almost comical. 
I knew without a doubt he was fucking that girl.  Yet, I couldn’t show him the
proof because it would blow the whole P.I. thing apart, and I wanted even more
proof about the people he was dealing with.  I
needed
it.  My gut told
me to hold tight to any and all leverage I compiled against Antonio.

So, I argued back, throwing the accusations at him until he
completely flipped out and beat the holy shit out of me.  I remember being
completely shocked that my husband of six years, whom I loved so dearly for
most of that time, was beating the living hell out of me.  He wanted to hurt
me.  Would stop at nothing in order to force me to submit to his version of the
truth.  And he didn’t stop until I begged for my life.  I told him over and
over how wrong I was…that he was right.  It was my mistake.  No…I didn’t give
in.  I didn’t believe his shit.  I simply did what I had to do to live.  I saw
his black, dead eyes.  He would have kept beating me until I stopped moving,
stopped breathing.  The demons driving his decisions for that last year were
fully in control of my well-being that night, and had he killed me, no one
would have ever found my body.  I knew it, and all I could think about was
Jason.  How he would never know what happened to me.  How he would have felt
abandoned, alone.  I had to live for him…and me. 

My pleas worked, and Antonio stopped.  He left me there on
the floor with a broken arm, ribs cracked from his fancy Italian shoes kicking
me over and over, and bruises on my face, arms, and legs.  I didn’t even call
for help.  I was so scared that I barely felt the pain wracking my body.  I had
to get help.  He could’ve come back at any moment and finished me off. 

I managed to get my broken body to a neighbor’s house for
help, but swore him to secrecy over the incident even though he wanted to kill
Antonio.  I almost called Jason again that night.  My call a few weeks before,
with the excuse of checking on Derek, wasn’t fully altruistic.  Yes, I was
worried about Jason’s brother, but truthfully, things were escalating between
Antonio and me, and Jason was my safety.  Just hearing his voice calmed me.  I
was so worried when days went by without a word from my friend.

Antonio stayed away for two days, then came back and acted
as if nothing was wrong.  It scared the hell out of me.  He didn’t even
acknowledge the cast on my arm or the slow movement I made as I walked
throughout the house.  All I could think about was how void he was of any
emotion over what he’d done to me.  He wouldn’t stop the next time.  I was
sure.

Enough was enough.  I had to get myself out.  That was the
night Jason had called me back, and I fell to my knees thanking God for the
miracle of my best friend.  I had to cut our call short because Antonio was
home, and if he’d walked in on me taking to Jason…well, I didn’t want to think
about what would’ve happened.  I was so weak as it was.  I don’t think I could
have put up much of a fight.  Thinking back on a few things, I don’t believe
Antonio was jealous of Jason.  His mind was riddled with the guilt of what he
was doing, and he projected that on anything I did or didn’t do. 

By the next morning when he
called again, I was scared out of my mind as I quickly and quietly planned my
escape.  Antonio’s calm demeanor could only mean something bad.  Maybe he was
planning something, like getting rid of his wife.  He didn’t seem at all
concerned about anyone asking questions about my injuries, after all.

*****

I let Jason just hold me as the stress of the last few days
overwhelmed me and I cried.  I could feel how tense he was and see the worry in
both his and Craig’s eyes about my injuries and our tricky departure from
Italy.  It was true that Antonio’s arms stretched far and wide across a large
portion of the country.  We just needed to get on a plane as soon as possible
and back to the States. 

“Jace, what will we do if we can’t get on a flight today?” 
I didn’t lift my head.

Jason’s hand rubbed up and down the small portion of my left
arm not covered in a cast as he held me firmly, but gently so he didn’t cause
any more hurt to my broken body.  Then, kissing the top of my head, he said, “We’ll
keep you safe, baby.  If we have to find a place to sleep tonight, we will, but
Craig and I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Damn straight,” Craig said from the front seat, making me
smile. 

“Craig?”

“Yeah?” he asked, turning around to look at me from the
front seat.

“I’m glad you’re here, too.  Thank you.”

“It was never a question, Lori Ann.  When my man here called
and told me his gut told him you were in trouble…well, I wasn’t about to leave
him to get himself in all kinds of trouble.”  He winked at me and I started to
laugh, but stopped.

“Shit!  Don’t make me laugh, Craig.  It hurts too much.”

Jason muttered a low growl, and Craig winced.  “Sorry.  I’ll
try to be less funny.”

I smiled and shook my head.  He was trying to lessen the
tension we were all feeling.

“Any luck finding a flight?”  Jason asked Craig.

“Still working on it.  I think we can fly the red-eye late
tonight, but we are going to need to hole up somewhere in the meantime.  Let me
check some of the hotels around the airport…although that’s the first place
that bastard would look if he comes after her.” 

I gasped.

“Shit!  Come on, man!”  Jace cursed and pulled me a bit
tighter.  “Can you keep those thoughts trapped in your brain and not spew them
out?”

“I’m sorry, Lori Ann.  But Jason, you know I’m only saying
out loud what we are all thinking.  We can’t tiptoe around the seriousness of
this situation.”  He paused, then looked at Lori Ann.  “How likely will he come
looking for you…honestly?”  I felt sick, but Craig was right.  We couldn’t
ignore Antonio and certainly couldn’t underestimate him.

I sat up straight, wincing as my sore muscles and ribs
screamed out at me.  “He’ll come.  There’s no doubt about it.  He may not do it
right away, but he will search for me.  He’s a hot-blooded, possessive,
egotistical Italian male.  No one takes what’s his…and no one leaves him and
causes embarrassment to his family.  He made that pretty clear in our…um,
recent conversations.”  I waved my good arm in front of my body at all my
injuries.

“What the hell happened?  I know you.  You would never have
stayed six years with a man like that.  Is this recent?”  Jason was so angry,
maybe even a little at me.  Tears welled up in my eyes. “Hey, I didn’t mean it
to sound like that.  I can see the look in your eyes, Legs.  You know this is
not your fault, right?”

“Yes, that is one thing I know.  But it doesn’t make it any
easier that I stayed as long as I did.”  I wiped my eyes and continued.  “No, he
wasn’t like this until about a year ago.”

“WHAT?!?”  Both Jason and Craig screamed the word at me.

“Stop, please.  Just listen.  I don’t have the energy to
fight with you guys too.”  I heard both of my friends take a deep, calming
breath.  I turned slightly in my seat and cupped Jason’s face with my right
hand.  “I’m sorry for not telling you sooner.  The first time, it was…”

“When?”  Jason asked, his body tense, but his eyes were soft
and sad as he stared at me.

I took a breath and placed my hand on his leg, feeling him
twitch, then relax.  “Well, it had to do with you and one of our many
hours-long texting chats.  I don’t remember exactly what we were talking about,
but he flipped out about our
friendship
and called me a whore.  I
slapped him, he pushed me, and things got out of hand.”