Dark Shadows (Gia Santella Crime Thrillers Book 11), Kristi Belcamino [ereader with dictionary .TXT] 📗

final push was when she realized that Nico no longer had any idea who she was. After that, she was gone. A young woman intent on one thing—murder.

There was no room in her life for anything else. No room for love, that’s for sure. It broke my heart.

“Will you stay here until you reach Rose?” Dante asked.

I shook my head. “It hurts too much to be here,” I said and stood up. “In fact, I feel like I can’t breathe. Can we go out? Maybe walk? Or go to the beach?”

What I really wanted to do was get on an airplane—or get in my car and drive away from all the dark shadows haunting me in Barcelona. I could feel them hovering just over my shoulders, and when I turned to look, they would disappear.

“Yeah,” Dante said, trying to hide his surprise. “Let’s go.”

As we walked, I turned to him.

“I’m going to leave in the morning. I think I’m going to go to Indonesia. That was the last place Rose was on the grid. Eva tracked her that far, and then she disappeared. I need to find her and let her know about Nico.”

“Okay,” he said. “But Indonesia doesn’t really narrow it down much does it?”

“I have to at least try,” I said. “I have a huge favor to ask. Will you lock up the apartment for me until Rose returns? I thought I could close it up, but I can’t deal with it. In fact, I’m going to a hotel tonight.”

“Of course, Gia,” Dante said. “Whatever you need me to do.”

After stopping and buying a bottle of wine and two ceramic mugs at another shop, we headed toward the beach.

We ended up plopping down on an empty strip and drinking the wine as the sun touched the horizon. I stretched my legs out in front of me, burying my feet in the warm sand.

Dante let out a low whistle and admired my legs.

“You’ve got a killer tan, G.”

“Got to keep up with my bestie.” Dante always had me beat for the best tan each summer.

“I didn’t get a chance to ask,” he said. “How was Cannes?”

“It was okay.”

“Just okay.” I didn’t feel like elaborating. It felt like a lifetime ago already.

“Did you like my friend Ryder?”

I gave a small smile. “Yeah. He’s a good guy.”

“Good guy?” Dante scoffed. “He’s hot.”

I laughed. And then, after sneaking a glance to watch his reaction, I asked, “Have you talked to him lately?”

Dante shook his head. “Not for a few weeks. When you first got there, he texted to tell me you’d landed and were safe.”

“Oh.”

“Why?”

“No reason.”

I’d been pretty sure Ryder would keep our secrets, and I was right.

We sat there until the sun set and the wind picked up.

A chill ran across my bare legs, and I shivered.

“You okay?”

I stood and nodded.

“Good, because I’m worried about you.”

“You don’t need to worry,” I said. “But I’m leaving here, Dante. And I’m not sure I’ll ever come back.”

As we walked back toward the apartment in the Gothic Quarter, I felt a peace come over me, and I knew that leaving was the right decision. I rested my head on Dante’s shoulder as we walked. He looped his arm around my waist. He was the best friend I could ask for. He’d left his husband, Wayne, behind in San Diego to come be with me. He always upended his life when I needed him. I was incredibly blessed to have him in my life. He was the one person who had remained constant since I was a child.

I would lay down and die if anything happened to Dante.

“I’m flying back to San Diego tomorrow afternoon after I close up the apartment,” he said as if following the train of my thoughts.

“Good. I’m sure Wayne misses you.”

“He’s been super busy at work, but I’m sure he does miss me,” Dante said with a small laugh.

I smiled. I could not be happier that Dante and Wayne had found one another. They were good for one another.

At the door to the apartment, I paused. “I’m just going to run up and grab my bag. Will you wait here for me and walk me to my hotel when I come back down?”

“Of course.”

I raced up the familiar stairs and unlocked the door. The apartment was lit with dozens of the fake wax candles that were set to come on at dusk every night. It had a cozy ambiance and held so many bittersweet memories. Slowly, I walked from room to room saying my goodbyes. I began with the most difficult room—the bedroom I’d shared with Nico for so many years. I gave myself a few minutes in each room, knowing that Dante would understand and wait all night if necessary. After visiting each room and saying a silent goodbye, I ended up in front of the altar in the small alcove by the door. I reached my hand up to touch the faces in the photos of those I had loved with all of my being. For a half second I considered scooping the contents of the altar into the bag hanging on my shoulder, but I realized that this altar needed to remain here, where it was. After I kissed my fingers and put them on the faces of those I’d loved, I tucked Nico’s pillow under my arm and gently closed the door of the apartment where I’d lived my best life.

That’s when I noticed that the dark shadows that had been fluttering in my peripheral vision for the past few years were gone. Instead, I felt a lightness around me. A peace. A gratefulness I’d never felt before.

In my mind, Barcelona would be the city of my soul. It was where I lived a life I’d only dreamed could be possible.

For me, Barcelona would always be sacred. It would remain the place where, for the first and probably last time as an adult, I was able to carve out a normal life—a beautiful, soulful, gut-wrenching, but