Heartbeats Amidst Chaos, Part 2

8. Chapter 8

Chapter eight

R issa lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling of her room.

I should go out for a walk , she thought. Or read a book or order food . But all she wanted to do was daydream about her secret rendezvous with Elio and how they continued to flummox her.

Rissa had never been a daydreamer. She had always been too busy, too focused on what was right in front of her. But without work or any meaningful connections other than Elio and Reagan, she suddenly found herself with long periods alone and little to distract her from her rambling thoughts. It was both enlightening and frightening as she discovered things about herself that she had somehow never known.

Her phone buzzed on the table next to the bed, sending Rissa rolling quickly to her stomach to grab it. It was a text from Reagan.

We need to talk.

Directly after, a text from Elio popped onto her screen.

When can we meet up next?

Rissa smiled. Feeling guilty for doing so, she answered Elio first.

Don’t expect that kind of treatment every time we meet up, big guy.

Then she answered Reagan.

Dinner tonight? I’m tired of eating alone in my barricaded house.

She got a laughing emoji from Elio followed by a crazy face. Then he texted.

For real, though. We need to meet.

Rissa frowned, concern writhing to life within her. Why so soon? Had something happened?

When and where?

Twenty minutes. Ally behind the diner.

We can go somewhere more comfortable from there.

Somewhere more comfortable, huh? Rissa’s concern made room for butterflies as her mind raced with what that could mean.

She sent a thumbs-up just as Reagan replied.

7:30 p.m., The Olive Branch.

Rissa glanced at the clock. It was just after five p.m. now. She would have plenty of time to meet up with Elio and then head to the restaurant, even using all the evasion tactics she had so recently grown familiar with.

She thumbs-upped that message too and then scheduled an Uber. So much for all her moaning about not having any plans. Excitement bubbled within her at the thought of seeing Elio again.

Girl, you have got it bad, she told herself. You don’t even know for sure that he’s a good guy.

Pushing that worry aside, she went to her closet. The intimacy of their last encounter had changed something within her. She didn’t want to look too deeply into what it was. She was suddenly aware of the fact that Elio had only ever seen her in scrubs or jeans and a t-shirt.

Oh, and once in a silk robe and then naked for a couple of minutes. Her face heated at the thought.

She wanted to wear something different tonight, something to impress him. Something to seduce him, she realized. But not too much. Too much might make her late for dinner with Reagan.

Her stomach somersaulted as the full import of where her mind was going sank in. But still, she rifled through the contents of her closet, eventually pulling out a pacific blue dress. It was a soft, silky cotton blend, sleeveless with a sweetheart neckline and a gently flared skirt that came to about midthigh. Not too much for a back ally meeting and just right for dinner at a nice restaurant.

Rissa quickly undressed. After a moment of hesitation, she swapped out her everyday underwear for a black plunge bra and matching thong. Slipping into the dress, she pushed her closet door closed to view herself in the mirror.

For the first time, she looked at herself through Elio’s eyes. She imagined the way they would slide over her body, and heat pooled in her belly. Rissa pressed her thighs together, taking a deep, calming breath as she continued to eye her reflection.

The bodice of the dress zipped up snuggly, hugging her breasts and waist like a second skin. The skirt seemed a lot shorter than it had the last time she had worn it. Not quite mid-thigh after all. Her bare bottom felt extremely vulnerable under the brief flounce, without even a proper panty to cover it.

Just one gust of wind , Rissa warned herself. How do other women do this so casually?

She couldn’t clearly remember the last time she’d dressed with a man’s gaze in mind. She definitely hadn’t realized how much she’d missed it. No man had awakened her body as Elio had in the short time she had known him. It sent tingles through her whole being to imagine how deeply he would awaken her if she let him go further than they had.

Are you sure about this? she asked her reflection in the mirror, staring hard into her own blue eyes. But she knew even as she asked the question that she had gone too far to backtrack now. Spinning away from the mirror, she moved to the bathroom where she spritzed herself with sandalwood and patchouli perfume, scrubbed her teeth, and ran a brush through her hair until it was smooth and shiny. Dabbing on some tinted lip balm and mascara, then slipping on a pair of khaki sandals, she headed for the door.

She had the Uber driver drop her at a gift shop in town that she had earlier pegged as having two entrances. The cop following her was obvious. She hadn’t noticed any other tails, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there.

Slipping out the other door a few minutes later with a cluster of other shoppers, Rissa took a few quick turns and ducked in and out of a few more shops before she headed for the diner.

As she neared it, she forced herself to slow down and compose her emotions. No matter how she hoped this meeting might go, she didn’t want to arrive looking flushed and ready.

Circling to the back of the restaurant, Rissa paused and glanced around. Elio didn’t appear to have arrived yet. She leaned against the warm brick wall, torn between relief and impatience. She smoothed her tiny skirt, thankful that there was no wind this evening after all.

A sudden screech caused her to spin around. Elio was stepping out of the back door of the diner. He winced at the creaky door.

“Sorry,” he said. “That wasn’t meant to be so dramatic.”

Rissa smiled, and he did a doubletake. She blushed.

“Wow,” he said, “You look. . . amazing.”

“Oh, thanks,” Rissa said, trying to sound offhand despite her flush. “I’m meeting a friend for dinner after this.”

“How long after?” Elio asked coming closer. He looked good too, she thought. He wore a white shirt, crisp and glowing against his tan skin, and black chinos. His hazel eyes were eating her up, just as she had known they would, but it felt even better than she had imagined. He looked awestruck.

She tossed her head slightly.

“My date’s at 7:30.”

Elio’s eyes returned to her face, and he frowned slightly.

“Date—like, with a guy?” he asked, and Rissa almost giggled. Was he jealous? Were they enough to each other that jealousy was a thing now? She tilted her head, tempted to let him stew on it just to see what happened, but changed her mind as he stepped closer, his eyes mesmerizing.

“No. My best friend—college roommate.”

“The journalist?” Elio asked. Rissa paused.

“How did you know—” Before she could finish, a harsh voice shouted from behind her.

“Hands up! Elio Accardi, you are under arrest. Put your fucking hands in the air!”

Elio’s head flew back as if he had been struck, and he stumbled backward a few steps, away from Rissa. Jolted with shock herself, Rissa turned to see no less than seven police officers rounding the corner of the diner, their guns drawn and pointed in a two-handed grip past her to Elio. She suddenly couldn’t breathe. How? What? Who?

“Hands up!” one of the cops screamed again. “And get down on the ground!”

Rissa spun back around to see Elio slowly obeying, lacing his fingers at the back of his neck and wincing as he lowered himself to his knees on the cracked pavement. His gaze flew from the approaching officers to Rissa, his face falling from dazed shock to betrayal.

He thinks I led them here, Rissa realized, her stomach plummeting. There was no way she could tell him that she hadn’t, not surrounded by officers, two of whom rushed forward to twist Elio’s arms behind his back, securing his hands with a pair of thick zip ties.

His face had drained of color, his chest rising and falling heavily, and as they pulled him to his feet again, he swayed, staggering slightly.

His head injury. “Stop,” Rissa cried. “He’s going to pass out!”

Before she had even finished speaking, gunfire exploded from the opposite direction the cops had come from. Bullets crashed into the brick wall of the diner and hit the ground, spitting up bits of pavement.

Rissa screamed, dropping to the ground and scrambling backward toward the building. Around her, the officers were also ducking and scrambling for cover. Elio was being dragged by the two who had zip-tied him, though they were bent over and cringing as the gunfire rattled on.

Rissa couldn’t tell if he was still conscious or not.

One of the cops suddenly released him to return fire toward the mechanic shop behind the diner, and Elio abruptly came to life, scrambling to his feet and headbutting the man who still held him. As chaos unfolded around them, he sprinted out of the lot and disappeared down the street—without a backward glance.

Rissa’s heart was in her throat as she huddled against the diner wall, but she did not intend to be left behind to take the fall again. Gathering her courage, she stood and ran as well, flinching at the whistle and snap of the bullets still whizzing around her and smacking into the wall and pavement.

The sounds of the gunfight faded slightly as she left the alley behind her, but suddenly, there were running footsteps behind her. Glancing over her shoulder, Rissa saw that it was not a cop chasing her, but a figure wearing all black from a black beanie to a black mask across the lower part of their face. Her pursuer held a gun but was too busy running to use it.

Rissa’s heart lurched with panic. Turning back around, she ran as if her life depended on it, which, she guessed, it very well might. She was grateful that she had chosen to wear flat sandals, and the short skirt of her dress left her legs free to stretch to their full length.

She sped down another shadowed alley and swerved onto the sidewalk rather than trying to cross the main street. People shouted and dodged out of her way. She veered into another alley and then another, gaining enough distance from the figure chasing her to pause and look around for a place to hide.

There was a rusty hatchback parked against the curb. Her lungs burning, Rissa grabbed the handle of the back door and was relieved when it creaked open. She flung herself into the back seat and shut the door quietly after her. Then, she leaned forward and hit the lock button, securing all of the doors.

She scrunched herself onto the floor along with a filthy mélange of empty soda cans, cast-off shirts, fast food wrappers, and who knew what else. She almost gagged but held it back just in time.

Above her, one of the back windows was rolled down an inch. She wished she had noticed it sooner.

Running footsteps pounded into the alley and past the car. A moment later, they came back, slower. There was a shout from further away, and Rissa’s pursuer, a man, replied, “No, I’ve lost her.”

Rissa barely breathed as a scuffle of footsteps and murmur of a voice approached. The second man said, “What about Elio?”

“We’ll meet up with him in time,” a woman answered confidently. “He owes us another job. And you know me, I always collect what I’m owed.”

The voices receded, but Rissa found that her tension did not. Even after she had convinced her pounding heart that her life was no longer in danger, her mind continued to race at top speed.

What had the woman meant about Elio? How did they know him?

She was belatedly reminded of how little she knew about the man she had dressed to charm this evening—and of how the little she did know should not have led her to be as trusting of him as she had been.