Broken Beginnings (The Moretti Crime Family 3)

“What was that you said?”

He chuckles, and I know tonight is going to be a good night. I’ll find someone worth my time and let him whisk me away. It’s the only thing I can think of to sever the connection I have with Lucca.

20

Lucca

I’m lying in bed, channel surfing, feeling like an asshole for not being there for Claire today. Eighteen. Another year older, but nothing has changed. I try not to let the guilt bother me. I sent her a gift and have kept every promise I ever made her. It doesn’t lessen the temptation I have to go to her every day.

I can still recall her heart-shaped face, fractured with pain after the words I spoke to her the last time we saw each other. I broke her heart. No, I didn’t just break it, I stomped it into the ground and encased the remains in concrete.

My phone rings on the nightstand, and I drop the remote on the mattress and grab it. I’m surprised to see Carter’s name flash across my screen, mainly since I talked to him earlier, and he said they were going to be doing cake and ice cream with Tracy and Steven. Maybe something else happened.

I hit the green key and bring the phone to my ear. “What’s up?”

“Look, don’t get mad, Lucca, but…” Carter’s panicked voice fills my ear, but it isn’t his words that are alarming to me. It’s the loud noise in the background. It sounds like he’s at a nightclub, but surely that can’t be right because he wouldn’t dare go to a nightclub with Claire. Not if he values his life.

“What the fuck is going on?” I growl.

“I’m sorry, okay? I messed up. I got Claire a fake ID for her birthday, hoping we could go out and have some fun. I didn’t want to tell you because I figured I could handle it, but it’s gotten out of hand.”

“What do you mean, it’s gotten out of hand?” The words grate through my teeth. “I swear to god if Claire is hurt or if something has happened to her, you will wish you were dead.”

“She’s okay, mostly…” There is cheering in the background, and I’m frantic to know what the fuck is going on. “I didn’t think she would drink this much, but she’s drunk, Lucca, and she’s making out with guys. I don’t know what to do. I tried to get her out of here, but she called the fucking bouncer on me.”

Making out with guys? Drunk? A vein bulges in my neck. I want to fucking slaughter someone and watch them bleed out. Another fucker is kissing her, touching her, and she’s too out of it to care, too out of it to make a rational choice.

“Where are you?” I’m already out of bed and grabbing my keys and wallet from the dresser before he answers.

“Houdin’s.”

“Why the fuck—” I shake my head, stopping mid-sentence. “Don’t answer that. I’ll be there soon. Don’t let her out of your sights, and if something happens to her…” My jaw aches as I clench it.

“I know, you’ll string me up by my intestines and feed me my own shit.”

I don’t even reply. I’ve trained him well, and he knows he’s going to get his ass kicked for this little stunt. It doesn’t matter if Claire put him up to it or not. He should’ve known better.

I break every fucking speed limit and run three red lights to get to the club. The adrenaline pumping through my veins has all my focus on Claire. My only thought is to get to her and make sure she is okay, which I won’t believe until she is right in front of me, and I can visibly see her.

When I’m five minutes away, I text Carter, telling him to meet me outside. The last thing I need is for Claire to make a scene and for me to have to kick someone’s ass. I don’t want to draw attention to myself. I’ve been doing a good job staying under wraps, and all that could be blown to shit if I have to fuck someone up.

As soon as the club’s neon sign comes into view, I pull into the nearest parking spot on the street. I park the car and notice that there’s a line wrapped around the building of waiting patrons. I can’t fucking believe Carter got her a fake ID. I’m almost at the mouth of the building when the door flies open, and Carter comes walking out with a very intoxicated Claire hanging off his arm.

Pausing mid-step, all I can do is stare. My chest tightens. The cold organ in my chest thumps loudly in my ears. Two years have passed, and though she looks the same with her delicate nose and pert little mouth, she doesn’t.