I’m never drinking again.
I pause when I see him with a hammer in his hand, taking his empty bookshelf down. His room looks like a disaster area, boxes half-filled cover his bed, and all his clothes are in suitcases.
“What the hell? Girl with a hangover here.”
“Moving out.”
“Why?” I hate the sadness and fear lacing my voice.
“I’m tired of hurting you. I can’t see you with guy after guy. It hurts. Asking you not to date is unfair.”
“How? You did this. You wanted this.”
“I didn’t. I didn’t see any other way. I’m going to be working against guys like your father for a profession, Bianca. Can you tell me if I had to investigate him, arrest him, dismantle his organization, you’d be okay with that?” I know the reasons Bronson didn’t go into the field he wanted. I just never dreamed it would play a part in Dakota and I. My head was stuck in the sand as usual.
“Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”
“Would it have mattered? Your silence tells me all I need to know. You’d never be able to forgive me, and I can’t live like that. It was better it happened now. Don’t think for one minute I stopped loving you.”
“Why was our relationship so hard? Falling in love was the easy part. Admitting I love you and staying the course . . . that was a severe pain in the ass.”
“Anything worth having is worth a bit of pain. You were my forever.”
I stare at him, and instead of overthinking things, I walk towards him. I wipe my cheeks, the floodgates of emotion opening, and I don’t want them to close. “You were my forever. You were my first, and you were supposed to be my only. How do I move on?” I’m standing in front of him, wishing he’d make a different choice for his life, but knowing it would kill a piece of him at the same time.
“I don’t know. When I figure it out, I’ll share. Don’t wait for the answer because you, Bianca, are unforgettable.”
“Just when I was getting over hating my dad,” I whisper.
“Don’t. Not again, don’t go there. You made your peace, and you love him. Family is everything. Dana wasn’t perfect, made choices she shouldn’t have, and if I could have her back, I’d take every damn imperfection it came with. You don’t blame your dad for this.”
“You’re too good for me, Dakota.”
“No, Bianca, I love you. It’s that simple. I have to go.” He steps past me, and I grab his wrist. His face snaps to mine, and I see the pain reflected in his, pouring off me in waves.
“Kiss me goodbye. Please.” I need the feel of his lips. He pulls me close, and when my hands meet the hard planes of his chest, they flex and grip of their own accord, grounding me, giving me some sense of stability. I watch as his head dips, his eyes focused on mine, and his mouth meets my lips. Gentle. Sweet. I choke back a sob, and he cracks. Pulling me as close as he can, his lips push against mine, and I open for him. He pours everything into his kiss, and I accept it. In turn, I give him back all of me; I let him drain me, hoping to fill him up with love. Understanding. Happiness. I break the kiss needing oxygen and space. It hurts so fucking bad. I’m not breathing. Sure, I’m inhaling air, but it never feels like it gives me oxygen.
His hand traces my cheek, down to my lips. “I wish I was the one who could give you your happy ending.”
“Without you I wouldn’t have had a beginning.” My words are barely audible over the sounds of my cries. He showed me how to let go, how to embrace love when it was offered. “Il mio cuore è tuo.”
He nods at me and pulls me to him once more. With my head buried in his chest, he bends and kisses my shoulder. As he lets me go he whispers in my ear, “ti amo.” I cry harder . . . he learned Italian for me.
“I love you,” I repeat to him and watch him grab a suitcase and walk out. I spend the rest of the day alternating between heartbreak and hatred. Heartbreak for Dakota. For us. For the thoughts I have of my dad, again. Hatred for the Mafia. For life in general. Most of all ... for me. Not being strong enough to choose either my father or my heart.
We do not remember days, we remember moments.
~Cesare Pavese
Chapter 12
Dakota
After having my own space the last year, it sucks being in the dorms. It was worse seeing her date . . . so I had to leave. In less than six months I’ll be at the training center in Virginia for eighteen long weeks, and I can start putting all this behind me. Move on and get over her. I know there will never be a day I’m completely over Bianca, but each day I get up and survive, I’ll take as a win.
I have a bone to pick with my best friend. I know he is wrapped up in Callie and she’s had a hell of a year, but he can’t shirk being a brother. His sister is hanging with tools like she did last night, getting piss drunk, and he has no clue. The fact that he isn’t shutting that shit down is not sitting well with me. I storm into the gym we spar at off campus, and I’m ready to beat his ass.
“Yo,” he calls a friendly greeting. I don’t respond. I just throw my bag down and start suiting up in my gear. I can tell by the way he is studying me that he is deciding if he needs to tread carefully or take it to the mat. My advice to him . . . both.
I meet his eyes as I climb under the ropes, and I can feel the anger pouring off of me. He just nods at me, knowing I need to work something out; he’s just not clued into the role he plays. We circle each other, both of our gazes focused, looking for a weakness. The air shifts, this isn’t our normal friendly match. He strikes first, and I take his jab, barely feeling the sting to my jaw. I attack next and unleash a series of blows, and he returns them. Before I can launch my next round of assault, I’m hauled back and held in place. “Not in my gym,” Saul says. He runs a tight ship, and I know we are close to crossing the line.
“What the fuck is your problem?” Bronson spits blood.
“Have any idea where your sister was last night?” I’m wound up tight, and Saul hasn’t let me go as of yet.
“Out.”
“At a frat party, drunk off her ass with some guy carrying her back up the stairs to the apartment. You have any idea what could’ve happened to her?”
“I didn’t cut her loose. This becomes my problem because you decided you were done playing house with her?”
“You’re her brother. It’s always your job to watch out for her. I didn’t cut her loose, I’ll never be done with her.”
“Right, so it wasn’t her crying every night a few months ago when you told her you wanted to take a break? You string her along for a few years, get her to fall in love, then you cut and run so you can have college pussy?” He has no fucking clue.
“Close to crossing a line, Bronson. I don’t want anyone else but her, but I can’t have her.”
“Why’s that?”
“You’re as fucking dense as she is.” Saul lets go of me and leaves the ring not wanting to be privy to this. “If your father wasn’t involved in the business but Callie’s was . . . and he wasn’t a dick, hypothetically they had a relationship like you and Bianca had with your dad . . . could you ask her to make that choice? Knowing you may be the one to dismantle his legacy; perhaps land him in jail. Could you tell me you’d be able to do that to her?”
“Shit,” he spews.
“Right. I get you struggled with your decision, and I didn’t think I’d end up where I was with Bianca, but your choice isn’t mine. I’m going after my dream. I have to.” He gets it. He knows I hate the drugs that killed Dana.
“Dakota, I was so wrapped up in Callie’s shit that I didn’t think. I handled my issues, but never put myself in your shoes. You have to know it wasn’t the drugs . . . that was your sister’s choice. I get you loved her, but you have to see her for who she was. Nobody forced her to use.”
“Enough. She may not have been forced to use, but she didn’t have to die.” That’s the bottom line. I could admit to myself she was weak, she was hooked . . . but she didn’t deserve the bullet through her head. I have
no leads, no idea why it happened, but with the connections in the bureau, I hope to get those.
“Did you explain this to my sister?”
“Yesterday. I moved out.” His focus drops to the mat, staring at his shoes.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“I did. I can’t watch her come in drunk, leave with other guys. I need to allow her to heal. I need the same.”
“This is a fucking mess. I told you not to get involved. “
“Yep. When you were being a big brother. I need you to step back in that role.”
“I got it.”
“You have your own shit with Callie, but don’t let Bianca get lost.”
“I won’t. You have my word. You sound like you aren’t going to be around.”
“I’ll be scarce around the apartment for a while. I can’t see that shit. I know she needs to move on, but I don’t need to see it.”
“This is shit. Isn’t there another way?”
“I can’t do your way. I’m not denying her importance to me, but I have to do this.”
He just nods at me; he understands me, but hates it for all involved. “Beers tomorrow? I’ll get one of the guards to keep the girls home.”
“Sounds good. Call me if things change.” I grab my shit and bolt before I cave and toss everything I’ve worked so hard for . . . all for a girl who was ingrained in every fiber of my being; she filled my life. Without her, my body just doesn’t function. Merely breathing becomes a struggle.
It was a hard transition moving into friend zone, but I’d take her any way I could get her. Bronson and I leave in the morning for eighteen weeks of hell . . . training in Virginia. He and Callie disappeared into their bedroom after dinner so Bianca and I are watching a movie. To say we are watching it may be stretching the truth . . . she is reciting every fucking line, and I’m sitting here soaking up the memory so I can call upon it when I miss her.
“You excited for this?” Her smile isn’t genuine, but she’s trying.
“Nervous, but excited.”
“Dakota, you have no reason to be nervous. You’ll kick ass. I’m proud of you.”
“Don’t.”
“What?”
“Don’t tell me that shit. Hard enough without you and then you show me what I’m missing.”
“I miss you, too.” She sighs. “Why’d I have to fall for one of the guys with integrity? It’d be so much easier if you were a douche.”
I chuckle at her candidness. “And I had to fall for the girl who hides behind a tough exterior but has the purest heart I’ve ever seen. You act like you’re full of fire, but you aren’t, Bianca. Don’t let this destroy what you worked so hard to get.”
“I’m trying. None of them are you.”
“Yeah.” I hate hearing she’s trying, but I agree with her. There hasn’t been another Bianca for me either.
“Dakota Hyatt, you go to training and kick ass. You make your mark on the world. Don’t do anything less because that means that all this pain, all this bullshit was for nothing. So you do what you have to do and take names doing it.” Her eyes are bright with unshed tears, and the pure adoration on her face is my undoing. It’s wrong, I’ll regret it tomorrow, but tonight I need it.
I reach over and pull her towards me. Her lips crash into mine, and I can’t get enough of the taste I’ve missed for months. It’s the same, yet more decadent because I’ve been starved for it. The sweep of her tongue against mine sends heat throughout my body, and I lose control. Standing from the couch with her in my arms I guide her legs to encircle my hips and set off for her room. Her whimpers against my mouth, the way she is grinding herself with every step against my dick, the shivers racking her body are all too much and not enough at the same time. I turn my body as we reach her bed and fall back, never losing the connection our mouths have. Her tiny hands run under my shirt, and I flip her over. I pull at her shirt, discard mine, and somehow disrobe us.
“You still on the pill?”
“Yes, you’re still clean?” I hate she asks me that.
“Never been bare with anyone but you.” I thrust two fingers inside her wet heat as my mouth descends and captures her nipple with my lips. Using my tongue and teeth to work her up, my fingers thrust harder and faster. Her hips meet me and her wrist encircles mine, and she begins to ride my fingers. “Fuck.” I’m close to exploding. I waste no time replacing my fingers with my mouth, needing her taste on my tongue like I need my next breath of air. I lick, eat, and devour her. She’s riding my face, and I feel her legs stiffen. I add my fingers and feel her clamp down and draw them further into her as she goes over. I watch her face as she comes against my mouth and fingers. I swear it should be listed as one of the Seven Wonders of the World.
As her aftershocks are still running through her, I climb up her body and sink into her with one push. Her gasp of pleasure and eyes full of love spur me to move. Hard. Fast. I lean back and watch as my dick sinks into her with every thrust. I’m lost in the sight. She was made for me. Her hand runs down the middle of her stomach and her fingers reach her clit. She begins rubbing, circling, and pulling at herself as I pound into her. It’s not sweet or gentle. It’s punishing and pleasurable.
I feel her tighten and give it to her harder. She screams in desire, and I follow her. Our bodies are covered in sweat, our breaths are coming in short pants and it’s the most alive I’ve felt in months. This is what I’m giving up; this is what I’ve been missing. I can’t have it, and I just fucked up. I will lose myself in regret tomorrow, but tonight I will give us both this.
I pull out amidst her whimpers of losing me and pull her to me. “What the fuck was that, Dakota?”
“Not what I wish it was, Bianca.”
“I figured.” She seems resigned to it. “I still love you and as much as this sucks, I understand.”
“Thanks.” I don’t know what to say to her to make it better. I haven’t found the words to give myself so how do I find them for her.
“And this was one hell of a goodbye.” Shit. Goodbye.
“I’ll still see you. You act like this is forever.”
“You won’t see me like this again. I can’t. It hurts and it heals. You go be you, and I’ll find me. I need you to go.”
I was going to stay, hold her, and fuck her all night. “Bianca . . .”
“No, Dakota. I know what will happen, and I can’t do that. I love you. You break me. Then you repair me. It’s a cycle, and I know you don’t mean to do it, but you do. Tonight, was perfect. I’ve craved it. But it destroys me and takes another piece of me. You need to go, leave tomorrow and I’ll see you when you get home. Maybe with time and space, we’ll be in a better place.” I can’t argue with her when the tears are staining her face, her voice so far away, and the pain evident in her eyes.
I pull her close to me, take her mouth in another kiss, and drop my head to her shoulder and hold her. Her sobs begin racking her body, and I can’t do this to her. My lips land on her shoulder one last time, and I pause for a minute. “Love you, Bianca.”
Getting dressed and walking from the apartment, from her, takes all my strength, all my willpower. I’m on the verge of going to her; telling her I’ll change my career path, do what I have to do to keep her. I know that won’t work. She is so afraid of sacrificing dreams and herself in the name of love, she’d refuse, and I can’t disagree with her. I’m afraid I’d have my own regrets down the line, but my biggest regret is leaving Bianca tonight. I just needed one more night.
But let there be spaces in your togetherness and let the winds of the heavens dance between you. Love one another but make not a bond of love: let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.
~Khalil Gibran
Chapter 13
Bianca
I’ve got Callie for eighteen weeks while they’re in training. I need this time to get her words of wisdom, opinion, and her help to pull me from this funk I’ve allowed myself to wallow in.
&nb
sp; “Tell me again why you slept with him knowing it was going to hurt worse the second time around?”
“I don’t know.”
“Binks,” her voice soft, filled with pity. “It opened you back up to him. I don’t understand y’all at all, but I understand love. You two have that, you also have circumstances that aren’t going to change. You need to proceed with caution because as much as it kills me to say this, I don’t see this working. He has a goal, he’s laser focused, and can’t be veered off that course.”
“I don’t want him to change his plans. That’s the one thing I’d never ask of him.”
“Why?”
“Love is sacrifice. That’s why I treated it like the bubonic plague. Loves makes you weak and do things you wouldn’t normally do. It alters you. I like control, and you sure as shit don’t get that with love.”
“You’re jaded. Love isn’t a sacrifice. It’s a gift to be treasured. It holds you up and makes you strong. Not weak. Love has no control, I agree, but it’s the most amazing ride you can experience. Highs, lows . . . it’s all there, but at the end is the best. That feeling when you ride a rollercoaster, survived it, realized you enjoyed every second . . . including the ones that had your stomach in your throat. At the end of that ride when you coast back into where the ride started, and it’s stable again. That’s love to me; one hell of a rollercoaster but starting back at the same place it began. With you and the one you love. Hold steady to that and you can’t lose at love.”
“You need to change your major to psychology because I think I actually understood that shit.” She laughs at me.
“With love you just have to have a strong foundation. The correct analogy. If the two people aren’t right, it won’t work. Sometimes, you have the right people but it doesn’t work because the track is so off course.”
I read her loud and clear. She believes the latter is Dakota and me. Right people. Wrong time. “So do I wait?”
Bellissimo Lotta (Beautiful Struggle): Companion Novel to Bellissimo Fortuna (The Family Trilogy Book 2) Page 9