Page 36 of Contempt

Just the same.

And yet, wonderfully new and different. That picture in the file had not done her justice.

Renzo didn’t even have the time to appreciate seeing Lucia for the first time in almost five years. Not when she looked up, and all at once, her gaze connected with his across the street. Her eyes didn’t widen, and she didn’t act like she was seeing him. It was as though, for a brief moment, she was staring past him.

Or … like maybe she was seeing a ghost.

Her mouth opened like she might say something, and her brow dipped. She started to raise a single hand toward him when all of the sudden, the cab she had stepped out of pulled off into the street, taking her attention away. She looked that way to watch the cab drive off, and Renzo fucking panicked.

Rules.

Those goddamn rules had been beaten into him—five years, that was the damn deal. She wasn’t even supposed to be in New York! Why was she here?

Before he could think better of it, he slipped back around the building. By the time Lucia looked his way again, he was already gone. He watched her shoulders drop, but he couldn’t think on it for long.

His panic was far more relevant.

What would The League do if this was the rule he broke? God knew he broke every other one they set out for him, or at the very least, bent the rules enough to earn himself a punishment. But this one? Her? That was the line they drew in the sand, and made sure he understood it well.

Fuck.

Fucking fuck.

His soul was screaming.

It wanted to go back—to her.

His brain was louder.

He headed down the street.

Away from her, and his family.

Just … away.

SIX

Lucia couldn’t breathe.

Oh, God.

She couldn’t fucking breathe.

She felt frozen on the side of the road. Standing just beyond the sidewalk, people blew behind her going in all directions. She could see people walking on the other side of the street, too. Going to somewhere, or coming from something. She didn’t know, but they all seemed to be moving in slow motion.

Her world had slowed.

Almost stopped.

Like her heart.

She was sure her manicured fingernails were digging crescent marks into her palms, but fuck, she couldn’t feel anything. Nothing but the beats of her heart. A thump-thump-thumping beat that felt like it was about to pulse its way right out of her chest, if it were possible.

She couldn’t hear anything, either. The city had seemed so loud to her that day. Almost two weeks in New York, and for whatever reason, the city came alive more than ever. And just like that, with a split second, it turned into nothing. No noise; nothing. There was only a rushing in her ears—her blood, she knew.

She had seen him.

Didn’t she?