Part 67

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Hi guys!

First, I just want to let you know that we are on the homestretch. If you've made it this far, then congratulations! You've only got a few more chapters left to go.

Also, I want to apologize. I let you all believe something that wasn't true. Read all the way through and you'll see what I mean. I'm sorry for giving you guys are heart attack but the drama is necessary for a good story.

Love the comments- keep it going! Gracias.

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Everything had changed so fast in just a few days.

Luke sat at his desk, staring absentmindedly at the wall as one of his men talked on. He could hear him, but he was not listening. Even when he handed him a report, Luke had to read it several times before making any sense of it. It was no use, he couldn't concentrate.

The man in front of him had no way of knowing what was going on, nor would Luke tell him. How could he? He was not Marco and they had both agreed that there was no way to trust anyone else until they knew who was on the wrong side. But Luke was worried. It had been two weeks since he heard from Marco, no messages, no mail, no calls, nothing. For all he knew, Marco could be lying in a ditch somewhere.

"Thank you, that's all for today." Luke said, dismissing the men in front of him who silently bowed out of the room.

He looked down at the stack of papers again, trying to remember what it was he just read. Usually, he was pretty good at these things. He had a strong memory- something that had only recently proved to be his absolute downfall.

"Fuck." He whispered to himself as he leaned back against the chair. "FUCK."

He'd messed things up so bad with Echo that now he didn't see a way out. He searched his mind over and over for something, anything- any way he could fix it but nothing came up. He messed up. He hurt her. He deserved to lose her, he only wished he could stop her from hurting.

What he really wanted right now was to go home and tangle himself up in her arms. He needed her warmth, he needed her silent strength. Sometimes it was as simple as sitting across from her the lovely little library she'd put together for them, each silently enjoying their own booth. There would be stolen glances or if they were on the sofa together, he'd give her a squeeze, but just knowing she was in the same room was enough to ease his worry. Sure, he could never talk through his work problems with her, he might never be able to tell her the type of things he had to deal with, although he was certain she'd be able to manage a lot better than some of his men, but just her holding him- that made all the difference.

Now, he couldn't even look forward to that. Going home was an empty thought now. She'd moved out of his room that same day everything came to light- one week ago exactly. He sat outside for hours, silently contemplating the mess he'd made of things, and when he finally went back into their room, it was to find that she had packed a back but it was to move into the room she'd been taken to the first time she was here.

Although most of her things still hung in his closet, seeing her side of the counter empty was depressing. He hadn't been able to sleep in their bed either, couldn't do it without her warmth and that was how he'd ended up sleeping on the sofa in the back of their bedroom. It wasn't the most comfortable sleeping arrangement and he could easily move into one of the guest rooms, but he couldn't bring himself to abandon the room. Maybe he couldn't sleep in the bed with her but at least he could still smell her.

She'd made it a point to avoid him, never leaving the room until after he'd left for the day and making sure to be back in it before he came home. She even arranged to have her dinner brought to her every night just so she wouldn't have to look at his face. She must be disgusted with him and he didn't blame her.

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