Love and Liquor

Coming Home

XXVII.
Coming Home

Grace did not sleep well that night. Even with little Milo in their bed with her, she felt cold without Luca behind her. She was worried sick that something would happen to him. Grace may have been innocent, but she was not stupid. She knew he was out looking for a fight. She didn’t doubt that he might kill someone either.

She fought the bile that rose to the back of her throat at the very thought.

At half past two, Milo woke up crying for his mother. Grace rocked him until he fell asleep again. She was almost asleep herself when she heard a gunshot. She nearly jumped out of her skin at the crack.

Slowly, she pulled her robe around her shaking shoulders. She closed the door behind her, hoping Milo wouldn’t notice her absence. Grace rounded the corner of the hallway and saw Donny sprawled out on the couch with a cigarette held lazily between his teeth. He was reading a book.

“What the hell was that?” Grace whisper-yelled at the burly man.

Donny whipped his head around. He hadn’t heard Grace come in. He blew out another puff of smoke. Grace almost retched at the smell. Luca’s cigarette smoke always smelled sweet, but this smoke just smelled putrid.

“What was what?” He set his book down on the table, pages down so as to not lose his place.

“You know exactly what. There was a gunshot, and it was close.” Grace pointed towards the front door where she thought she had heard it come from.

Donny stood to face the little woman in front of him.

“Mrs. Venzetto, I don’t know what you’re talking about. There were no shots fired tonight.” He was talking down to her, patronizing her.

Grace’s eyebrows knitted together in frustration.

“I know what I heard,” she said determinedly.

“It’s been a long day. You’re probably still shaken from seeing Nina earlier. Why don’t you go back to bed? Luca will have my head if I don’t take the upmost care of you.” He tried to place a gentle guiding hand on her shoulder.

Grace jerked under his touch, pulling away.

“Don’t touch me.” There were daggers in her eyes.

Donny put his hands up in a show of surrender.

“Stop treating me like a child. I know what I heard.”

There was a thud outside the apartment door, preventing any response Donny had prepared. Grace snapped her head in the direction of the door and sidestepped behind Donny’s massive frame. She watched as her protector reached into his waistband for his gun.

They listened as a key scratched in the lock. The handle slowly turned before revealing a tall figure.

Grace let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

“Oh, Luca, thank God.” It was an understatement to say she was relieved to see her husband standing in the doorway.

She wasted no time in enveloping him in a hug. Grace smiled into his chest when Luca kissed the top of her head.

“What’s going on here?” he asked, pointing at Donny’s hand that was still on his gun.

Donny cleared his throat, moving his hands to rest at his sides.

“The missus is just a little jumpy tonight. She thinks she heard a gunshot.”

Grace turned to face the guard man.

“I don’t think I heard it, I know I heard it,” she said with as much venom as she could manage. Grace knew she wasn’t acting very politely, but she hadn’t slept since the night before and she did not like being patronized.

Luca raised an eyebrow at the exchange between his wife and his best friend.

“Cara,” he gently grabbed her chin, turning her attention to him. “I was just out there. I promise there was no shooting.” He kissed her temple again when he saw his words did little to appease her.

She didn’t say anything.

Luca resisted the urge to sigh in frustration and exhaustion. Could at least one thing be in his favor tonight? He guessed not.

Luca walked over to Donny, handing him a five-dollar bill.

“Donny, why don’t you take the other boys out for a cup of coffee? I’ll meet you at the restaurant later.”

As Luca moved back to Grace, she noticed a small red blotch on the back of his collar. Her eyes flashed wide, but she caught herself before he saw her. She had been right he was out killing someone.

Her mouth suddenly felt dryer than a desert.

Donny nodded and left the room without another word.

Grace waited until she heard the door click closed before she began speaking.

“Where were you?” The words came out strained. She didn’t mean for them to, but she was still mad at him for leaving her like he did.

Luca moved to sit on the couch. He placed his elbows on his knees and cradled his face in his hands.

“Grace, come here.” Grace didn’t budge.

“Where were you?” She asked again, this time with more stress.

“I was out."

“Out where?” She crossed her arms across her chest.

“I was managing some affairs for my father.” He supplied.

“What sort of affairs, Luca?”

Luca’s jaw tightened at his wife’s questioning. It was clear she was distraught. He hated that he was the cause of it too, but she was on the verge of going too far.

“Don’t raise your voice at me, Grace. I’m still your husband. And I was doing the book-keeping for my father’s restaurant.”

“Luca,” her voice was soft and sweet again. Luca relaxed his tensed shoulders a bit. “I know you weren’t recording notes at two o’clock in the morning. Please just tell me where you really were.”

“I already told you, I was recording transactions for my da-"

“You have blood on your shirt,” Grace blurted.

Luca pursed his lips until they were almost colorless. He didn’t speak. Grace had tears in her eyes. She placed a hand over her mouth in shock.

“I was right. You were out killing people, weren’t you?”

No response.

“Weren’t you?” she urged.

Luca took a deep breath. He was caught.

He stood, enveloping Grace in his arms.

“Grace Margaret Venzetto, I swear to you that I haven’t killed anyone.” His words were soft and comforting to her rattled conscious. He tugged on her chin so her eyes were locked on his.

“Cara, I would never do anything like that. You must believe me when I say that.” She nodded.

Luca watched as tears fell silently down her cheeks. He felt his heart rip in two. Why was he always the cause of his sweet little Grace’s tears? He hated himself.

“I’m so sorry, mio marito. I shouldn’t have accused you of such a horrible thing. I just, well they say things about your family- the things you’ve supposedly done. I was there that night Valentino almost had my father killed,” Luca winced at the mention of her father.

“And with how angry all of you were after Nina… Well, I guess I jumped to conclusions. C-can you forgive me, Luca?”

Grace’s tears had turned into twin streams running the course of her swollen, red face.

Luca pulled her head to his chest, cradling her like a child.

“There is nothing to forgive, cara. All is forgotten,” he said, pressing a fervent kiss to her golden hair.

He felt her smile against his shirt.

His heart sank and swelled simultaneously. He felt sleazy and content at the same time. How was that possible? Then he remembered, it was part of the job. One couldn’t exist without the other, at least not in him.

The couple stayed wrapped in each other’s arms for some time. Neither really knew quite how long. It wasn’t until Grace’s head began to slump in exhaustion that Luca picked her up and carried her to bed like a babe.

"Luca?” she mumbled.

“Shh, Gracie. Go back to sleep.”

Luca laid her in the bed behind his nephew’s little sleeping body before getting in behind her.

He leaned in to kiss her one more time.

“Good night, cara. I love you.”

He waited for the response his heart yearned for, the words she had yet to say, but Grace had already fallen asleep.


Well, it looks like Luca is in the clear... at least for now.
Hey, by the way all my awesome readers, you got this book to #26 in Historical Fiction two days ago, so nice work and thank you!

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Thanks, 
SW