Vindication. An entire team is there within minutes when I radio in. There was no extra weapon and whatever he was reaching for is destroyed, just frayed edges of what looked like a photo. Doesn’t matter, I followed protocol and he’s dead. I took a man’s life and can’t be bothered to care. I go through the required evaluation, meet with the agency shrink, file my report and then hear the words I dreamed about. Mixed with the words that destroyed me once again. “Callie will be here tomorrow.” A slight pause by my sister meaning she’s building up to something. “She’s arriving with an Angelo, she says she loves him.” Fury. Red-hot fury, not blood, courses through my veins. No matter what, I expected to always have her love.
Part III
Chapter 24
Callie
The drive back home was filled with apprehension and silence. Angelo was asleep and I was unsure what I was about to introduce him to. I was surprised to hear Bianca was pretty much welcoming me back with open arms. I pull into the hotel on the outskirts of town needing somewhere to sleep for the night. No way in hell would I step foot into my father’s house and until I had a chance to speak with Bronson about Angelo I wasn’t showing up on their front door. He deserves to know everything before anyone else.
I settle us into the room and make a few phone calls to arrange for tomorrow. I need somewhere to live, first off. I need to find a job because most of the money my father had was seized, as it was dirty. I had plenty to live on in my changed name that was one more thing to do, ruin that identity. It wasn’t legal to begin with but I had some assets in it that I needed to liquidate and change my degree over to my real name.
Looking into the gray eyes that remind me of Bronson, I coo. “Tomorrow is going to be a big day for us. You need to get your rest and be a big boy for mommy tomorrow. No, Angelo, you don’t pull Mommy’s hair.” I’m not sure how much an eleven month old understands because instead of pulling on my hair he tries to eat it. The guilt eats me as I stare at my son. Guilt for not figuring out sooner the evidence that could bring my father down, guilt for him missing out on his father for almost a year, guilt for not being the best mother I could be. I was hurt, depressed, and angry for the first few months. I didn’t bond with him like I should; I didn’t dote on him like a first-time mother. I loved him and protected him but I was selfish in giving him all of me and he deserves so much more.
Angelo was what spurred me into action. I couldn’t let Bronson miss anymore of his life. He was almost walking, was babbling and I wanted his father to see it . . . experience it and swell with pride like I did. Angelo saved me in many ways. Frank Locati was a lot of things, but he held onto his Catholic beliefs. It doesn’t matter because I know there is not a God in heaven that would allow him entrance after his sins, because he didn’t ever seek penance for them. I have no doubt that had I not done what he made me that day with Bronson he would have killed me. I had just found out I was pregnant that morning before we drove home and I was going to tell Bronson when we got back to Miami. Telling my father, I knew his beliefs wouldn’t allow him to kill a child. Leaving was the only option I had to save Bronson, and my father knew that if he had harmed Bronson or his family he could kiss any chance of getting his hands on my son goodbye. He didn’t have a chance in hell, and that was what my letter to Dakota stated. If anything were to happen to me, he had to get Angelo.
There were so many scenarios that day running through my mind. What if I denied my father? Would he hurt Bronson? What if I was able to escape and tell Bronson? Would that have made him more distracted and cost him his life? I felt like I was backed in a corner and I fought the only way I knew how. Angelo is getting cranky in my arms, squirming and whining. Quickly stripping him, changing his diaper, dressing him for bed, I warm a bottle up and hold him tight, staring at his features as he sucks on his bottle, eyes drooping and falling into a peaceful sleep. I place him on the middle of the bed, surrounded by pillows while I set up his portable crib and make plans for tomorrow. I hate leaving him with a sitter I don’t know but I call the nanny service anyway. I need to break the news to Bronson and his family without Angelo around. If there is any yelling or tension I don’t want my son to feel that, he’s been through so much in his short life and I’m all he knows. Accepting him isn’t what I’m worried about with the Agostos; he will be embraced and loved. It’s how we are all going to work it out. I know Bianca is happy I’m back, but I don’t kid myself into thinking that will be the case once she learns of the biggest secret of all. Bronson will be furious; first ripping away his future when I left but knowing I left while carrying his child will ignite his fury. I knew all this and I did it anyway. Gianna will be my ally but I can’t expect her to get in between her children and me. I won’t allow it and would never ask that.
I dial the number to the man with the combination to my heart. After all these years, I still know it from memory. It rings multiple times and then goes to voicemail. I hang up and send a text.
It’s Callie. Can we talk tomorrow?
The wait is torture. After an hour I decide to get ready for bed and my phone doesn’t leave my side. I guess he isn’t going to respond, but unfortunately this isn’t a message that I can’t deliver. I don’t want to just catch up, I want to irrevocably change his future and turn his world upside down. You can’t accuse me of being boring.
I dial Bianca’s number, hating to have to go through her, but I’ll do what I have to. “Hey, Binks.”
“You in town?”
“I stopped right outside of town for the night and got a room. It was a long drive.”
“You could have just driven here, I’m dying to get my hands on you.” She stops. “That probably wasn’t a very good description to use.”
I laugh, “It’s fine, Bianca. I’m not torn up about his death. The only reason I am planning a funeral is because I promised him I would dance on his grave and I always keep my promises.”
I can hear her wheezing from laughing so hard. “Holy shit, Callie. I can’t believe you just said that but I can help you with a routine if you need.”
“Nah, I think I’ll just freestyle this one.”
“I’ve missed you,” her voice almost becomes a whisper. I know she is about to get emotional.
“I missed you, too. I’ll see you tomorrow. I hate to do this but I’m calling for a reason. I tried reaching your brother and don’t want to put you in the middle but I really need to talk to him.”
“Oh, really?” she has a teasing tone. “Well, I kind of arranged a spa day tomorrow for us and then a cook out for lunch here at the house. I know he will be here because my mom ordered him, but he is being a bit stubborn right now.”
“I need to talk to him. I don’t know if we should do all this first.”
“You are turning down a massage? A hot guy rubbing all your muscles down? Girl, tell Angelo to entertain himself for a few hours and then afterwards he can come for the cookout.” Oh god, she has no clue. I also know if Bronson is determined to avoid me I have to take whatever opportunity I can.
“Okay, what time?” She squeals in delight.
“Nine, at our normal place.” We used to always go for pedicures and massages and her making plans with me like no time has passed makes my heart soar.
“See ya then.”
“Are you going to have Angelo come to lunch?” she drops her voice. I know she wants to be happy for me if I’m in a relationship but her loyalty is to her brother, as it should be.
“Let’s play it by ear. I need to talk to your brother first, then maybe you will understand a bit more.”
“You keeping secrets from me?”
“Aren’t we all?” I disconnect after assuring her I’ll be there at nine and then call the nanny service back with the times I’ll need.
I don’t sleep at all that night, imagining all the different ways it could turn out tomorrow and out of all the scenarios the one I wish for the most is the one I don’t see happening. Bronson welcoming me back with open arms.
But for men like him that won’t happen. You don’t get a chance to hurt them, and if you do wound them, you don’t get a second chance. That was one thing I was very aware of the day I chose to save him, but I also knew when the time came I would have to live without him, and it was always going to hurt like hell.
Chapter 25
Bronson
My phone was burning a hole in my pocket. I kept pulling it out looking at the text message and willing myself not to respond. How did she think a message asking me to talk to her was going to erase eighteen months of silence? It was bad enough my mom and sister were rolling out the red carpet for her and Dakota was giving me the silent treatment when I vented about the welcome home cookout but her texting me . . . to give her credit she called first, but I don’t want to talk to her or see her. Denial isn’t just a river in Egypt . . . it’s alive and well in my mind. The bombshell my sister dropped on me about Angelo . . . I can barely say that name without wanting to punch something, and the face I have imagined to fit him is my first target. While I was fighting my demons and pain, trying to bring down the man who stole everyone I loved away, she was falling in love. I don’t even know the person who once owned me.
I overhear Bianca making plans with someone for tomorrow and inviting them over; shit, it’s her. Massages? Some hot guy massaging her muscles . . . the ones I used to make tense underneath me when I was playing her body. I look at Dakota and his scowl mirrors my own; he doesn’t like the thought of Bianca being touched by another man . . . professional or not. I still don’t know what happened between them but I know he isn’t ready for it to be over and she fights him every step of the way. I sip my beer and eavesdrop until she ends the call and shoots me a dirty look. “Avoiding her isn’t going to work. She called me looking for you and tomorrow you have to face the music.”
I sigh. I may as well get it over with. “Is she in town?” I could just go face her now.
“She stopped at a hotel outside of town. I didn’t ask her where but I’m sure she didn’t want to go to that house.” Shit, I didn’t even think about that. Well, it’s not my place anymore, she had her new love to protect her and ward off her memories. I finish my beer in one gulp and reach into the cooler for another one. “You won’t believe what she said.”
I’ll bite. “I can’t imagine.” My sarcasm doesn’t go without a slap on the shoulder from her.
“Dick. The only reason she is giving him a funeral is she promised him she would dance on his grave when he dies.” My beer goes flying out of my mouth and I can’t stop the laughter that erupts. She can still shock me with the stuff that comes out of her mouth, but I know deep down she has to be affected by his death. Not to mention her mom in rehab. “And she said she wasn’t bringing Angelo tomorrow, she needed to speak to you first.”
“Hmm.”
“That’s all you have?”
“What do you want me to say, Bianca? Want me to clap my hands and jump up and down in joy thrilled that she came back after ripping my heart out and tearing my future away? Welcome her back with open arms, the same ones that weren’t good enough for her to step in to when I begged her?” The stricken look on her face lets me know I got through to her.
“I’m sorry,” she cries. Dakota immediately goes to her and turns her in his chest while shaking his head at me.
“No, I’m sorry, Binks. I shouldn’t have taken that out on you. You aren’t the one I’m mad at.”
“Don’t know why you’re mad at Callie, you don’t know all the facts, man.” Dakota says while comforting my sister.
“I only need one fact . . . she left.”
“Here’s another one for you . . . you still love her.” He leads Bianca away from me, and once they disappear, I throw my bottle against the fence. I sulk up to my room, tossing and turning all night. She wants me to talk to her, that’s exactly what she will get. Only she won’t be expecting it.
I use my badge to gain me access. It’s wrong, but I don’t blink an eye about it. Seeing her lying on the massage table feels like I have been sucker punched. I study her while the therapist talks to her and lets her get comfortable. The lights are dimmed and she is on her stomach so she doesn’t know I’m in the room, but she will. Her skin is just as creamy as I remember but she is so thin. I immediately want to ask her if she is taking care of herself, but that’s not my place anymore.
When his fingers sweep up her neck to brush her hair up, I want to break them. When he sinks his hands into her shoulders and she moans I want to kill him. My cock hasn’t gotten the message that he wasn’t supposed to respond to her because he is at full attention. I salivate while I watch his hands on her. Each sigh, each moan is like a direct nerve hit to my cock, heart, and body. “Do you mind if my apprentice takes over?” That’s my clue.
“That’s fine.” Oh, dear trusting Callie . . . that is your first mistake of the day.
“I’ll be right back,” he nods towards me and shuts the door behind him.
I start at her calves, not applying too much pressure but work my way up to the back of her knees. I see her shiver and goose bumps break out on her skin. My touch is getting to her, she didn’t respond like this with the professional. Maybe she hasn’t forgotten me after all and that spurs me on. I sweep the back of my hands over her thighs to just under her ass and then back again. She shifts on the table and I go to the balls of her feet, easy-going yet firm pressure with my thumbs. I watch as she arcs her back and move up her legs again. I want my mouth to follow my fingers but I restrain myself not wanting to scare her. I rub her neck, shoulders, and upper back. I did this many of nights and it was always so sensual and allowed me to touch every inch of her skin. The towel is barely covering her ass and I let my fingers brush it aside, casually. I hear her gasp but return to rubbing her muscles and feel her relax again. Sweet Jesus, she is in a coral thong, the same color she wore the night I claimed her body.
I can’t control myself, bend down, and graze my lips over her shoulder. “Um, excuse me?” I can tell she is uncomfortable as well as aroused.
“You were so eager to have my attention last night.” I break my silence.
She flips over, “Bronson?” Her eyes search my face and then she realizes her mistake. She has nothing on but a scrap of underwear. She immediately covers herself and I let out a groan. Her body is not a sight that should ever be covered to me. “What are you doing here?” she whispers.
“I have not a clue,” I admit as I crush my mouth to hers. She doesn’t fight me, and opens to my assault willingly. My body feels as if it’s been going through a drought and her body is a field of water, immediately covering her and melting into it. I capture the sounds coming from her mouth and revel in delight that I can still make her respond to me. Her hands are tangled in each other behind my neck and my hand goes to her breast and pussy at the same time. She is so wet, I snap. Shoving two fingers inside her, I swallow her gasp of surprise and pleasure. It’s too much yet not enough. A door closing down the hall reminds me where I am and whom I’m finger fucking. I pull away like I’ve had scalding hot water thrown at me, disgusted with how easily I fell into her trap.
“Does Angelo turn you on like that?” Her look of confusion makes me want to laugh in her face.
“N-n-no.” she stammers. I hope to hell she doesn’t start the waterworks because I don’t think I could leave if she did. I have to admit, she still has a hold on me. “How do you know about Angelo?”
“Bianca told me you love some guy. Was he supposed to be a secret?”
“Never.” She is adamant. “But it isn’t what you are thinking.”
“Oh, so now I’m mistaken?” I feel like an ass but the pain is bubbling out of me.
“Yes, you are. Let me get dressed and then I’ll explain.” Her timid manner is disarming me and I don’t want to give her the upper hand.
“Yes, telling me about the man you love while sitting her naked after my fingers were inside of you really isn’t appropriate is it?”
“Damn it, Bronson. Stop treating me like this.”
“You lost all rights to my kindness when you left.”
“You don’t understand.”
“No, I don’t. But I don’t think I’m going to stick around and listen to the story of you falling in love.”
“You have it wrong. I did fall in love but not the way you think. Angelo . . .” I cut her off.
“I don’t want to hear about Angelo or anything else out of your lying mouth.”
“He’s our son,” her words freeze my actions of walking out the door. Stops my heart and chills me to the bones. Our son. She was carrying my child . . . my son when she left?
“How old?”
“Almost eleven months,” the tears are running down her face.
“Get dressed,” I bellow. The sound pulsates off the walls and echoing in my ears. I see her jump but I don’t care. “You have about five minutes, Callie.” I storm out the door and wait outside the room for her. She timidly opens the door and I grab her arm, pulling her behind me straight out the door towards my car. “Get in.” I demand of her, and I watch as she does without any argument.
I slam my door behind me. “Where is my son?” I seem to have shocked her into a comatose state. “Callie, where in the fuck is my son.”
“A-at the h-hotel with a nanny,” she stutters.
“Which hotel?” She rattles off the name, and I shoot a text to Bianca letting her know where her counterpart is before taking off like a bat out of hell.
She attempts to open her mouth, but I stop her. “Not now.” I don’t want to hear a word she has to say. This is so much worse than I could have ever imagined. I thought leaving me, breaking us up was bad, but to know she was carrying my child and put both of them in danger with no regard to me and my feelings is too much for me to process.
We reach the hotel and she speaks, “Don’t scare him. I won’t stop you from seeing him but you need a minute to get yourself under control while I let the nanny go.” She’s right and I hate to admit it. I watch her walk to the room and enter while I inhale, exhale, and count to ten. The gravity of the situation hits me . . . I’m about to meet our child for the first time. Then the waves of anger wash over me again when I realize he is almost a year old and I’ve never seen him. The photograph Frank had in his hand . . . if she let him anywhere near my son there will be hell to pay. I hurry across the lot and enter the room as some woman exits. Nodding at her, I search the room and I see Callie holding my clone. From his eyes to his complexion, his nose to his mouth . . . it’s like staring into a mirror.
Bellissimo Fortuna (Beautiful Fortune) Page 15