by Emma Nichols
“Keep light on your toes, like you’re dancing.”
Simone started to bounce on her feet as instructed and focused her attention on a mark on the skin of the bag. She hit the leather softly again, and grinned, then dropped her arms to her side. “The gloves are heavy.”
“Gloves up in front of your face, to protect yourself.” Maria demonstrated, with her fists adopting a position that blocked her mouth and chin.
Simone groaned and raised the gloves into position.
“Keep your feet moving.”
“Oh, my God, there’s so much to think about.” Simone started jogging from foot to foot.
“Guard up. Now, jab, jab.”
Maria demonstrated, and Simone followed the instructions, gritting her teeth as she punched the bag.
“Stay relaxed. You can’t box if you’re tense, or you’ll injure yourself.”
Simone relaxed her jaw, and her arms became floppy. Her punch landed softly.
Maria laughed. “You need some tension in your arms, just not too much.”
Simone wanted to stop and take Maria back to bed. “This is hard.
My arms feel like lead already.” She shook her head.
“You want to quit?”
Simone huffed. That was like red rag to a bull. She pulled the gloves up to guard her face, started moving her feet, and landed a sequence of six blows. Then her arms flopped limply at her side and she doubled over, fighting to claim the air her lungs were screaming for. She pulled off the gloves and dropped them. “I’m done.”
Smiling, Maria came to Simone and pulled her up into her arms. She held Simone’s head in her hands and looked into her eyes as she kissed her cheeks, her eyes, and then kissed her lips again.
Simone gasped and as she looked deeply into Maria’s eyes, her heart stopped beating.
Maria smiled as she stroked the hair from Simone’s face. “You are so beautiful.”
Simone inhaled and licked her lips. They still sizzled from Maria’s electric touch and tasted of salt. She cleared her throat and even then, the words croaked out of her. “I need a shower.” She moaned at the pressure of Maria’s thumb moving across her lips. She saw a sparkle in Maria’s eyes that no longer concealed the dark intensity that was always present behind them.
Maria traced Simone’s lips with her fingertip. “You have such kissable lips, you know?”
Simone brought her hand to cover Maria’s. She kissed Maria’s fingers and caressed her palm to her cheek. She closed her eyes and whispered, “Come and shower with me.”
28.
The newspaper was proving hard to read and not just because the headlines further reinforced the Amato’s impending demise. There was no doubt in Patrina’s mind that Alessandro was behind the hit on Don Lombardo. His ambition to build the casino had led him down a greedy path and for that, she could never forgive him. Additionally, no matter which way Patrina tried to juggle the figures, the impact of the explosion, their inability to further the casino project due to a lack of materials, and her need to set aside funds to support her plan to engage the Spanish, had depleted the Amato’s liquid assets. Fucking Alessandro. Fucking numbers.
But the intense feeling of discontent that had disturbed her night was about more than the business. Simone living at Maria’s was one thing, but the fact that Maria felt strongly for Simone—she’d seen it in her eyes—had been like a puncture to her lungs. The painful truth had reinforced her sense of vulnerability. She was alone and powerless.
She had spent her life fighting this emptiness, and yet it always returned bigger, and bolder, and more insistent with each reincarnation. It wormed its way into her slowly, burrowed snuggly, and then pervaded every cell of her body. Her sense of inadequacy became stronger with the pressure inside of her head. She had tried to be strong facing Maria. Her heart ached with love looking at her, and then her head flashed with rage.
She wanted to scream and lash out at Maria but couldn’t. It’s not her fault.
The words were true, but they still warred with the fear that controlled her.
She missed Maria more than life itself. Maria had been her rock, her stability, and her strength, though she had never admitted that to her. Now it was too late. The emptiness had become more prevalent since their last engagement, as if the cord from which they had fed each other had been severed. They might as well be complete strangers, except for the other sensation that haunted her nights with a dull, leaden ache that cocooned her heart. She needed Maria more now than she ever had. If they worked together again, they could become close. Age always gave the illusion of time running out, and she certainly felt older, but it was never too late to win back Maria’s heart.
Alessandro slammed the door of Café Tassimo and strode towards the table.
Beto jerked to face him as he approached and bowed his head. With his foot in a cast, he shuffled across the bench seat, extended his leg underneath the table, and pulled himself to sit upright.
Patrina glanced up. At last, he surfaces. No longer would she hide her contempt for Alessandro to the degree she had. She had tried to keep him sweet, but showing any affection seemed futile in achieving a connection with the man. He now needed to toe the line, and she would be the one giving the instructions.
Alessandro communicated his demands with a simple flick of his fingers at the barwoman as he ambled past the bar. Patrina stood and greeted him with a kiss on his cheek though it revolted her to be near him, let alone touch him. It always had, though now the feeling was more meaningful and had the attention of her conscience. “I take it you haven’t read the news?”
He started to laugh. His pupils were dilated, and the whites of his eyes had streaks of red in them. There was a wild and confused look about him. He had clearly only recently finished partying at the club. He reeked of tobacco and sex. She looked into his eyes, searching for a spark of something resembling comprehension, but there was nothing. She leaned back in the seat and waited until he stopped walking and was just about to sit. “There was an incident at the garage late last night. Gavino and Autustu were shot.”
Alessandro stood still, and his features remained unaffected for a time, then he frowned and looked away from Patrina. His eyes darted frantically, and his skin paled. He took a pace towards the door.
“Which hospital?”
He stared at her blankly. She waited until she had his attention, her silence conveying the gravity of situation. “They are dead, Alessandro.”
He clicked his neck from side to side and clenched his teeth.
“Fucking Lombardo.”
Patrina shook her head. “No, Alessandro, this is the work of the
‘Ndrangheta. Don Chico is making his promise to you very clear. We need to pay him.” Her tone was calm and measured. She knew that Vittorio was being treated in hospital and was under no illusion that he was behind the hit. He had done her a favour. The Romano brothers were unstable, and the
last thing she needed on her plate after disposing of her nephew was having to deal with a power struggle with Gavino. She smiled inwardly as she watched Alessandro’s appearance shift from rage to fear. He didn’t look any more handsome with paler skin and still seemed to lack full comprehension of the dilemma he faced. Pig.
Beto looked at Alessandro. “It’s true, Alessandro. Chico’s men were spotted today at Picasso Plaza. They’re staying at the Grand.”
Patrina sipped her drink. That knowledge had brought her much pleasure and a little anxiety, which she had reasoned away on the basis that Alessandro was Chico’s main prize. The fact that the Italians were in the city served her needs perfectly right now, because aligning themselves with criminal incidents enhanced their reputation, and she would take full advantage of the threat they presented to Alessandro.
Alessandro cocked his head to face Beto, and his lips curled into a vindictive smile. He conveyed distrust in the anger that flared behind his eyes. Beto lowered his head.
“Alessandro.”
He snapped his head to Patrina’s raised voice.
“We have to pay, or they will escalate.” Her tone shifted to concern.
She needed him to comply and appealing to his inflated ego usually worked. “I am worried for you, Alessandro.”
Alessandro swallowed then snapped his head towards the barwoman. “Where’s my coffee?”
Beto cleared his throat. “This is bad news, Alessandro.”
Alessandro turned to him with dark eyes and placed his hand on Beto’s injured thigh. He squeezed hard as he gritted his teeth, revealing the bone structure of his jaw that would otherwise remain buried deeply beneath the flesh that concealed his frame. Beto whimpered as he leaned into the back of the seat and bit down on his lip.
Alessandro glared at him. “When I want your opinion, I will ask for it.”
Patrina reached across the table and set a comforting hand on Alessandro’s arm, encouraging him to release Beto. She looked at Beto with apology. “I have good news,” she said, attracting her nephew’s attention.
Beto released a whispered moan when Alessandro let him go and cowered away like a wounded animal. The barwoman approached and set
their drinks on the table, looked fleetingly from Patrina to Alessandro, then hurried away.
Alessandro sipped his coffee, dunked a biscuit, and ate it. “Tell me, Auntie, what good news is there?”
“The Spanish.” She smiled warmly when he looked up at her, so as not to reveal the lie she was about to tell him. He looked too preoccupied to notice her mild disquiet and too eager to hear good news to ask for any details. She would just give him the numbers.
“And?”
She rubbed her hands together. “We have a deal. The Spanish are confident they can access the Lombardo cargo ships. Twenty-million euros, Alessandro. Fifty-kilos being shipped out tomorrow and arriving in Palermo in ten days. Ten days, Alessandro.” She stared into his eyes and caressed his face as she spoke.
Alessandro looked at her, and a spark of light flashed across his eyes as he grinned.
“I just hope you are alive to see it.”
His focus became swiftly enveloped by a blank expression, and his eyes widened. Patrina knew fear when she saw it. The lightness she felt in his suffering lifted her, and she concealed her smile. She frowned. “What are you going to do about the Italians, Alessandro?”
Alessandro glanced at Beto. “You deal with them.”
Beto pointed to his leg and shook his head slowly back and forth. “I can only watch them.”
Patrina shook her head at Alessandro. She wasn’t going to let Beto be dragged into a battle that would certainly end in his execution this time around. He, of all the men, respected her and once this problem was sorted, she wanted him at her side. “Our two most talented hitmen have just been murdered, Alessandro, and there is no doubting the lengths Don Chico will go to and the resources he can commission to ensure you pay what you owe. Beto will be executed if he tries to do your job again.”
Alessandro slammed his hand down on the table, then tapped his fingers feverishly. He pressed his body back into the seat as if trying to escape his own mind, then his eyes moved skittishly, and he looked around the room.
Patrina softened her tone. “Beto is right, Alessandro. If we retaliate, Chico will annihilate us all.”
Alessandro slumped, and his fingers quieted. Beads of sweat covered his face, and a trail of water trickled into the creases in his neck. He released a long breath.
“We don’t have the money, Auntie?”
There was uncharacteristic acquiescence in his tone. Patrina stared at him. Good, he’s on the ropes. “No, we don’t. What about your private account?”
Alessandro shook his head as he lowered it.
She straightened her back and took a deep breath. “You will have to go to Chico and ask for more time, Alessandro.” A surge of excitement coursed through her.
Alessandro’s eyes widened, and the remaining colour slipped from his cocaine-flushed cheeks. He rubbed the back of his hand across his face, glanced at Beto then back to Patrina, and whispered, “He will kill me.”
Patrina sighed, and her lips thinning as she frowned. “Well, you had better hope he wants his money more than he wants your scalp.” She leaned towards him and patted his arm. She didn’t give a shit. Alessandro would get what was coming to him, one way or another. She couldn’t wait to see the horrified look on Don Stefano’s face as she gave him the news of Alessandro’s assassination by the ‘Ndrangheta. She felt energised by the thought, and her spirits lifted.
Alessandro looked at her with pleading eyes. “That’s too risky, Auntie.”
She lifted her chin and stared at him. “I hardly think you are in a position to negotiate, do you?” Her tone was quiet, leaving no room for him to challenge her. She smiled reassuringly. “You have to do this.”
Alessandro stood, staggered to his feet, and stormed out of the café without looking back.
Patrina turned to Beto, her chin high. “Keep an eye on him. No deliveries to Lombardo. We stay off their turf, got it?”
Beto’s eyes lit up and he bowed his head. “Yes, Lady Patrina.”
She smiled and spoke softly. “Thank you, Beto. That will be all.”
He edged to his feet, gathered the crutch at his side, and made his way out of the restaurant.
She smiled at the barwoman. “Martina, would you bring me lunch.
I’m feeling really rather hungry.”
“Yes, of course, Lady Patrina.” Martina smiled, and her eyes had the same quality of satisfaction in them that Beto’s had had.
She could guarantee Beto’s support, even Martina’s, though hers was insignificant. She took a deep breath and the feeling of satisfaction relaxed her. With any luck, Don Chico would resolve the Alessandro problem for her and save her the trouble. In any event, she had a plan. I run the Amatos.
29.
Maria slipped the oxygen tank onto Simone’s back. She tugged the belt to fasten it securely around her waist and then tested air was coming through the mouthpiece. The look in Simone’s eyes burned her skin as she worked. “How does that feel?”
Simone was staring at Maria and smiling, and Maria had a very good idea of what had flashed through Simone’s mind. With slow deliberate movements, she placed her hand in Simone’s and inched closer. She ran her fingertips along Simone’s thigh, and as she watched the tiny hairs prickle in response, her own skin tingled with fiery heat. Simone jerked as Maria traced a line across her hip, and her lips quivered and her breath hitched.
Simone closed her eyes, and Maria kissed her deeply as she trailed her fingertips back along the edge of Simone’s hip. Simone jerked, and groaned, and then jumped out of the kiss and giggled.
“You’re a tease.”
Maria had never felt more caressed and more loved. “I can’t help it.
I want you.” She grinned like a child who had just discovered a secret and moved her fingers to make Simone writhe again. Simone continued giggling and tried, neither hard nor successfully, to get out of her grip.
The boat rocked under their feet, making it difficult to balance.
Maria encouraged the boat to sway harder and continued to tickle Simone until she squealed and made the boat move as if it were on a stormy sea.
“Stop, stop.” Simone could barely speak for laughing.
Maria steadied the boat. She reached up and stroked Simone’s cheek, and her lips. “You are too tempting.”
Simone’s eyes darkened.
Maria directed her attention back to preparing for the dive. Simone’s sensual gaze persisted, making the task of burying the desire that rendered her senseless and carefree, impossible. She groaned as she lifted the oxygen tank onto her back and secured it into place. She looked into Simone’s eyes and swallowed. “Ready then?”
Simone’s smile lingered. “Always.”
Maria ignored the surge of electric energy that moved through her and instructed Simone to sit on the ledge of
the boat. Simone took a deep
breath and released it slowly then sat. She wriggled the mask and mouthpiece into place and gave a thumbs up. Maria smiled and nodded.
Simone tumbled backwards into the sea.
Maria fitted her mask and tumbled into Simone’s stream of bubbles as they rose to reclaim their place in the air that tossed the surface of the water above them. As Maria oriented herself in the water, Simone floated in front of her, moving gracefully, her hair flowing freely, soft and coral-like.
She looked to be enveloped in a vacuum, a saintly aura that shielded and protected her. Captivated by the wide, shining eyes behind Simone’s mask and the beautiful, loving smile obscured by the breathing apparatus, a jolt in Maria’s chest made it hard to breathe. She hoped her eyes conveyed the elation she felt. The look in Simone’s eyes softened, and the tingling effect lingered reassuringly inside Maria.
There was something else Maria sensed between them: profoundness, the quality of which could drive her insane. She knew it as the point at which love and loss merged into an absolute realisation that this person in front of her, she was the one, the missing piece of the puzzle of her life that would make her world complete. It had been that look in Simone’s eyes that had shaken Maria’s world and awoken her to the deepest love she had ever known.
Her heart ached as she looked into Simone’s eyes with deep affection. Simone reached out, took Maria’s hand, and squeezed. Fire rose up inside Maria like a venomous serpent. Overwhelmed by intense heat, she swallowed hard and battled the tears that threatened her vision. She turned her attention to the sea and hoped Simone hadn’t noticed her weakness.
Simone stayed close to Maria as they swam in the direction of the reef. Her heart pounded as she focused on the agile movement of Maria’s body gliding through the water. The passion she had seen in Maria’s eyes had shifted suddenly, and she sensed the feeling of absence she feared could come between them. And then Maria had looked at her with such love and longing, the pain of it ripped through her heart and stole her breath. She would enjoy what she could, for whatever time they shared together, and try not think too much about the future.