An Echo in the Mafia (Echo Reid, Reid Family Book #1)

Part 59

"I can't believe my eyes."

As the words were spoken, Luke took another shot before signaling to the bartender to fill up his glass. He didn't bother looking up, having recognized the voice immediately and hoping the speaker would recognize he was NOT in the mood for company. No such luck.

"I would have thought you'd be at home, happily snuggled up to the adorable little wife of yours." Grace said, taking a seat on the bar stool next to him and signaling for her own drink.

Luke didn't respond. He didn't need any reminders of where he should be or how things should be. He needed to forget.

"I walked by earlier and thought I saw her and Marco..." Grace continued, laying it on thick but Luke picked up the empty glass and slammed it down forcefully, causing it to shatter into pieces. Grace stares for a moment, wide eyed and in complete shock. The bartender moved quickly cleaning up and apologizing for a mess he didn't make.

If it had been anyone else, they would have been sent home, either in a cab or kicked out on their ass. Of course, everyone in these parts knew Luke, knew exactly who he was and so, they wouldn't dare. Instead, the bartender replaced the glass with a new one, refilled it and served him another shot. It was obvious that Luke was not in a good mood tonight and he knew better than to stir up trouble.

"If you're going to sit there, I'd thank you not to mention them." Luke muttered, putting a hand through his hair and trying to sort out the thoughts racing through his mind. It burned. Everything burned. He was thinking too many things- too much, too hard and too fast and he hardly had the capacity to process it.

His best friend. The one man he trusted above anyone else because he had spent an entire life with him proving over and over again that deserved that trust. Luke was not a man who trusted words so much as action. He might give you the benefit of the doubt but you couldn't have his trust unless you proved yourself. Marco had been the only person to continuously prove himself over the years. He was as loyal as they come... or so he thought.

And her... just the thought of her made him want to run home and throttle her with his bare hands. How stupidly he'd fallen for her innocence and nuanced charm. He could picture her now, running her hands over her scars, kissing them gently as if to ease the pain that he had carried with him since he got them. Was it all an act? Her fears, her ingenue, he anxiety, the blushing, the awkwardness, the clothes- had every part of her he'd seen been as fabricated as her loyalty? No other man. She's said that to him. He absolute trusted her, his instinct trusted almost from the moment they met in that pool house. How wrong had he been?

If he had seen it with his own eyes, he wouldn't have believed it even then. He would have rationalized that he'd imagined it, he would have explained it away in confusion, he would have figured out some way to change the story. But Nadia.

Nadia who knew before anyone else, Nadia who knew what had happened, who knew about the scars beneath his skin that he carried all these years. She had seen it and he trusted her. He trusted her eyes.

So now what? He should have them both shot. 

No.

Strangled.

No.

Dropped at the bottom of the lake.

The old Luke wouldn't have hesitated. There was no room for weakness here. They had betrayed him in his own home. The old Luke would have had them picked up by now and would show them that he was not a forgiving man. Had he grown soft?

Had they watched him slowly grow more gentle? Had he given in to her too many times? He knew he gave her concessions no one else had, he had allowed her to take over his world slowly.