Lies You Tell

by LaQuette

The boy climbed into his mother’s lap and turned his face to stare openly at Dante. The same eyes he looked at in the mirror stared back at Dante. They were deep, dark, inquisitive, so ready and open to whatever Dante had to offer him. The boy was Dante’s double. Even his complexion mirrored Dante’s. Fate could sometimes be a cruel bitch. How fitting was it Sanai sought to steal the boy from Dante but was forced to look at the face she’d wronged every day?

  That little slice of petty victory made Dante smile. The little boy followed suit, and the two sat there smiling brightly at each other for the first few uncomfortable seconds.

  “Hi, I’m Dante.” His delivery bordered just this side of overly excited. The sound of his own voice was strange to him. Dante tried to tamp down the overwhelming joy at meeting his child a little before he scared the boy. He beamed, trying his best to keep anything but the joy he felt at sitting so closely to the child out of his voice.

  “I’m Nazario, but you can call me Naz.”

  Dante nodded his head and leaned forward. “I always wanted a nickname as a kid, but you can’t really shorten Dante any more than it already is.”

  “Mommy says you’re staying for pizza and movies tonight.”

  “Yeah, I’m gonna go run and get the pizza in a minute for us. You have a favorite?”

  The little boy jumped from his mother’s lap and clapped his hands excitedly. “I like extra cheese. Mommy doesn’t always let me have it, but I love it when all the cheese hangs from my slice to my mouth.”

  Dante laughed. That was what he used to love about extra cheese when he was a kid. Getting to play with his food made it that much more enticing to eat. “I’m gonna let you in on a little secret. Extra cheese is my favorite too. How about I go get us an extra-cheese pie and you stay here and pick out a cool movie for us to watch?”

  Nazario nodded and hurried off toward the back of the apartment to search out movies.

  Dante smiled as the little man walked off. Something inside him broke. Just those few minutes in the kid’s presence, and Dante felt equal measures of love and sadness.

  He felt tears filling his eyes. Dante jumped up from his seat to make his way out of the apartment. Just before he could pull the front door open, he felt Sanai’s hand press against his arm.

  “Dante?”

  “He’s beautiful. Everything I ever thought our son would be.”

  He couldn’t look at her—yeah, it was silly, but he came from one of those households where men didn’t cry, and especially not in front of their women.

  “I’m sorry, Dante.”

  That fucking word sorry was really beginning to piss him off. She’d used it over and over again today, and somehow he never felt better after she uttered it.

  “Whatever, Sanai,” he answered. “You did what you did for your own reasons. I understand those reasons, but it doesn’t hurt any less. Five minutes in front of him was all it took to show me how much I’ve lost. That time with him will never come again.”

  He passed a rough hand down his face and looked at her. “I’m not missing another moment. You’d better be prepared for that.”

  He didn’t give her a chance to respond. He walked out into the brisk air and headed to the car. He sent a quick text off to Big Tony asking him to meet Dante at their favorite Italian spot near the hospital. Only a man who loved his son would be able to help Dante now.

  * * * *

  By the time Dante placed his order for pizza and pasta, Big Tony was walking through the door. This was one of the last authentic Italian eateries in the neighborhood. Everything was homemade, and the restaurant was a small, dimly lit room with several booths for families to pile into.

  Dante slid into the booth, and Tony slid in on the opposite side.

  “What the hell happened?” Big Tony stared Dante down. His shoulders were locked and his fists were clasped on the tabletop, like he was preparing for something ugly.

  “You were right, Tony. You told me to make sure it was her, and I did. It was her, Tony. She’s alive.”

  Tony relaxed his shoulders some, but he narrowed his eyes in question. “How?”

  “Someone tried to kill her, got her friend instead. She booked to keep herself safe.”

  “You know who? Why?” Tony asked.

  “I have a pretty good idea who from Sanai’s description. As for the why, I’m not very certain what she thought she could gain from going after the woman I love. She had to know I would kill her if I ever found out.”

  Tony relaxed into his seat for the first time since he’d sat down. “She?” He shook his head. “Please don’t tell me Tomassa did this?”

  “Yes.” Dante’s response was sharp. “I’ve gotta do some careful investigating, but I think so. It all kind of makes sense. She started whispering in my ear about us joining forces not long before the fire happened. When I had Sanai there was no way I would agree to something like that. But…”

  “But once you were gutted from her death, yes seemed a whole lot easier to say.” Big Tony shook his head before he looked at Dante again. “So how you gonna handle this? You tell Sanai yet how all this came about? You confront Tomassa yet?”

  “No to both,” he answered. “I gotta play my cards close on this one. Bernie was involved.”

  “What?”

  “I can’t really get into the particulars right now. Honestly, that’s not even what I called you here for. Tony, I have a son.”

  Big Tony reached across the table and grabbed hold of Dante’s arm. “Excuse me?”

  “She was pregnant when she left. She didn’t find out until she’d settled in Brooklyn. I have this beautiful five-year-old son who looks like I birthed him myself. I’m out here getting food for him now.”

  The smile on Dante’s face was contagious. Big Tony smiled in return. “The circumstances are fucked up, but congrats on the little man.”

  Dante rose when he heard his order being called. They gathered his food and walked out to his car. Big Tony turned to him and grabbed Dante up in a big hug. “I know shit seems fucked and you’ve got so much to process right now. But don’t focus on anything that’s going to take you away from that little boy. Take it from someone who almost lost his son. Every moment you get to spend with him is worth any of the bullshit you’re gonna have to face.”

  Dante grabbed his friend again in another hug. His support and ability to cut through all the bullshit was exactly why Big Tony’s number was the only one he’d thought to use when he’d needed a life raft.

  “I’m gonna be staying with Sanai and the kid for a few days. He’s sick, going through some testing soon. I’ll try to get as much info to you as I can.”

  “All I want is a picture of you and my soon-to-be godson. I want to see my boy with his boy.”

  Dante smiled. Just the thought of taking a photo with his son made him fill with happiness. That happiness washed off some of the hurt Dante had been covered in. Moments like this were why Dante would always need Big Tony in his life. The important shit—that was all Big Tony ever worried about. Dante figured now was as good a time as ever to adopt that same policy in his own life.

  * * * *

  Sanai stood outside on Becca’s back porch. She pulled herself up and sat on the tall brick wall separating Becca’s place from her neighbors and let the events of the day pour over her. Dante was here. He was big, bold, and beautiful, pushing his way into her life.

  A fact she should’ve been pissed about. Sanai didn’t let people walk over her. She didn’t allow others to make decisions for her—well, not any longer, she didn’t. Bernadino hadn’t given her much choice when he pulled her out of that burning apartment and into his van. He’d headed straight for I-95 and dropped her in his grandmother’s lap.

  Sanai could still feel the ghost of the chill that had permeated her skin when she stepped onto the Brooklyn street. The concrete sidewalk made ashen white by the cold. Living in Florida, one didn’t necessarily wonder about outerwear most of the time. Her jeans and long-sleeve
d T-shirt hadn’t really done much to protect her from New York’s cold welcome.

  Bernadino had told her to never return to Florida. New York was her home now. She hadn’t questioned his edict, fear of dying still too new for her brain to operate off of anything other than fear.

  Having that decision taken away from her, Sanai made certain everything else in her life was strictly under her control.

  With the exception of the tiny detail that her world was up in the air right now, she had everything under control. She allowed a weak giggle to escape her though. Yeah, everything was under her control all right. Her son’s health, Dante finding her and pushing his way into her and Naz’s life. It was as if the universe intended to do everything it could to fuck with her control-freak tendencies.

  She heard the door creak and watched as Dante closed it behind him. “Private party?” he asked.

  “Just needed to get away.”

  “From me?”

  She was searching for the sarcasm in his statement, hoping to counter it with an equally smart-assed comment, but when his coal-black eyes collided with hers, she saw nothing but sincerity there.

  She took a long, loud breath. It would be so easy to say yes, to strike out at him. Haven’t you hurt him enough? Haven’t you taken enough from him? She knew the answer. She still didn’t know whether Dante had played any role in the events that led her to New York. But there was no doubt this man did not deserve to be deceived the way he had been.

  After seeing the brief exchanges he’d had with Nazario that evening, eating pizza and making an extra show of the cheese stringing because it made her son laugh, and giving Naz his complete attention when the little boy very seriously explained the plot of his favorite movie, Ice Age, her guilt blossomed.

  Those two moments alone were enough for her to have compassion for Dante. However, the moment he sat down and read Naz’s favorite book to him, all at the little boy’s insistence… That moment of watching her child cuddled so comfortably around a man who was ultimately a complete stranger to him… After seeing that, hurting Dante on purpose just didn’t seem like something she should or could do.

  “I’m not hiding from you, Dante. I just needed a moment to try to process this all. Yesterday—”

  “Yesterday our son didn’t have a father.” His breath so heavy as he spoke those words.

  He was standing next to her now, leaning against the brick wall, looking up to her with such sadness surrounding him.

  She stretched her hand to touch his hair and caught herself before her fingers made contact. She didn’t have the right any longer. He wasn’t hers. They were here through a terrible set of circumstances, neither of them by choice.

  “Our son has always had a father, Dante,” she whispered. “Even if neither of you knew it.”

  She slid from the wall and intended to go back inside the house, but Dante’s hand on her arm stopped her.

  She looked up to him and found his piercing gaze fixed down on her chest. A nervous hand lifted to the locket resting between her breasts.

  “You’re wearing my locket again?”

  She plucked the locket up and let the large oval rest on careful fingers.

  “You left in on the bed when you went to get ready to come here. I didn’t mean to pick it up. I should have asked you… It just called out to me.”

  “It’s always belonged around your neck, Sanai,” he responded. “Where I’ve always wanted it to be.” The deepness of his voice, the closeness of his touch, made her senses buzz with need. How rapacious was she to be lusting after a man when her sick child was inside sleeping a few feet away?

  She tried to step back, but his fingers, although loosely placed around her arm, kept her right where he wanted her, a hairsbreadth away.

  “This isn’t necessary, Dante.” She swallowed deeply, attempting to pull her heavy tongue from the roof of her mouth. “You don’t have to say things like that to be close to your son. As long as you can prove to me you’re not a threat to him, I won’t stand in the way of you getting to know Naz.”

  He moved quickly, his lips crushing hers in blistering heat. The kiss was quick but powerful, robbing her of her breath and senses, forcing her to struggle to focus when it ended.

  “Understand me, Sanai. I’m here to take back everything and everyone that was stolen from me six years ago when you died. I want my son, but I want you too, and I intend to have you both.”

  She shook her head and tried to step back, but he stopped her by kissing her again. Strong lips moving over hers took whatever thought she had of ending this connection. She moaned, and he leaned in, pressing himself against her.

  The hard planes of flesh beneath her shaking digits scorched her fingertips. She slid her arms around his neck, giving him permission to deepen the kiss. He used her consent to pull her closer to him. Rough hands raked from her neck down her back until they were kneading the curve of her ass.

  The memory of what those hands felt like against her naked skin made the walls of her pussy seep with anticipation of a repeat performance. She wove equally rough fingers through his dark curls and pulled tightly to anchor herself against his mouth. If it hurt him, she didn’t know, because he continued drinking from her, apparently intent to sip every bit of life she had.

  She gladly gave him every drop of her essence. It felt right. It belonged to him.

  He tore his mouth from hers, dragging in harsh breaths as he stared down at her. “Everything, Sanai. I want everything.”

  Chapter Eight

  “You cheated.”

  Dante delighted in the giggle coming from across the other side of the bedside table.

  “There’s no way you’re that good. No one can win three hands of Go Fish back to back.”

  The little boy sitting in the middle of the hospital bed broke into full-on laughter as Dante lobbed his accusations across the table.

  “No I didn’t,” Nazario offered through a wide grin. “You just stink at this game.”

  Dante couldn’t argue there. Give him a deck of cards and some poker chips and he could walk away with a fat pot. This Go Fish nonsense wasn’t working for him, though. Probably because he was missing his requisite bottle of beer in his hand and a lit Cuban between his lips. Oh well, he figured there was a rule book out there somewhere that said you shouldn’t drink beer and smoke cigars while you play cards with your kid in his hospital room.

  He’d take the L for now. That kind of loss wasn’t the least bit painful. Watching Nazario smile and laugh even while he sat in a hospital bed for the last month was more rewarding than any win he could have had at a poker game. He’d prayed they would be done with his treatment by now. It wasn’t to be.

  The chemo seemed to be doing its job by killing off the cancerous cells in the boy’s blood. The tradeoff—Nazario was pale, fragile, and trapped on this hospital ward for the next few months. It wasn’t an easy existence, but Sanai and Dante both agreed the alternative was unacceptable.

  Life now consisted of the three of them living inside Nazario’s hospital room. His back regularly protested the pullout cots he and Sanai slept on, but even that was a minor inconvenience considering he was seeing the son he’d only discovered a month ago on a daily basis.

  “When’s Mommy coming back?”

  Dante looked at his watch. Two hours had passed since Sanai’s departure. Knowing how she hated being away from their son’s bedside, he was sure she’d be back any moment.

  “She went home to pick up some more clothes for the two of you, then she’s coming right back.”

  “Don’t you need more clothes?”

  Dante nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Are you gonna go home to get some more?” This kid was five, but the logic coming out of his mouth seemed to age him. Yeah, Dante certainly did need to get home. He’d been gone from Florida for more than a month. Soon he’d have to return to keep things in order, but he didn’t know how to pose that information to Sanai.

  There’d been
no time to tell her his truths. No time for her to learn who he really was in the proper context. She didn’t know Don Dante DeLuca. He hadn’t existed when Sanai was a part of his life. There was so much to consider. This wasn’t something he could just lay at her feet, especially not while she was dealing with their son’s health situation.

  In the beginning, he’d kept his family’s involvement in organized crime a secret because it wasn’t something that would directly affect them. Dante’s father never wanted his only son to become the next Don. He’d been taught the family business as a means to keep him safe, but the plan had always been for Dante to use his talents to lead a legitimate life.

  It was his father’s dream for him to make his own name without the dark stain of La Cosa Nostra smeared across it. It was a dream that was almost destroyed when an attempt on Dante’s life at the tender age of eighteen by an opposing mob family sent Dante hiding for a handful of years in his parents’ homeland of Sicily.

  That was the first time his father’s business had impacted his life. His dreams of running around on a college campus with his peers were placed on hold as his father hunted those responsible for his attack. He found them, every single one of them, and made them pay. At twenty-four, Dante was able to return home and enter college as he’d planned.

  When he’d stepped onto that campus he’d expected nothing but four long years of hard work. What he hadn’t expected was to meet the love of his life when he walked inside the campus coffee shop.

  The next three years of his life were perfection. Loving the girl who turned out to be a barista by day and a cosmetology student at night made his world perfection. Then the ugliness of his father’s world crept into his life again and robbed him of everything that made his heart beat. With the flick of a flame, Sanai and his heart were gone.

  Now, he had to fix things. Keep his father’s legacy from touching the life he wanted so desperately. He couldn’t do that from New York.

  “I do need to go soon, but I wanted to make sure you and your mom were okay before I did.”

  “Are you gonna come back to visit?”