Winter

by Michelle Love

  “Your construction boss has confirmed your alibi. We still have questions, but for now, you’re free to go.”

  Olly gaped at him. “What?”

  Bryan cleared his throat. “No evidence, buddy. They’ll bail you for now. You will have to surrender your passport—”

  “Knox can take care of that,” Trent interrupted with an apologetic nod to the lawyer.

  Olly followed them out of the precinct in a daze. Bryan said goodbye, Trent, too, and Olly was left alone on the sidewalk. He began to walk, not paying attention to where he was going, just needing to feel the ache in his leg muscles and the cold air in his lungs. His speed increased and then he was running, pushing himself harder and harder until finally, he stopped, chest heaving, the blood pounding in his brain.

  He was free. There had been moments over the past days when even he had believed himself capable of … anything. All he knew now was that he had to get to Inca, to hold her, to protect her.

  One thought dominated his mind as he turned and began to walk across the city to the waterfront. Inca was in trouble. The image of Nancy’s body flashed in his mind, and Olly couldn’t help seeing Inca’s face, contorted like Nancy’s had been in absolute terror and agony, her body shredded and bloody.

  “No…” Olly’s jaw set. Before this ended, Olly knew in his heart, more people would die. But if it took his last breath, Inca would not be among them.

  Raffaelo stroked his fingers down her bare back. Inca had stepped out of the tub, and now he wrapped a thick fluffy towel around her. She looked exhausted, drained, and grief-stricken. She had woken up screaming from the nightmares earlier, and it had taken both him and Tommaso to calm her down. She had cried for most of the rest of the day, the full impact of what had happened hitting her full force.

  She leaned against him now, and he kissed her temple. “Tommaso is preparing some hot soup for you. You need to eat.”

  “I couldn’t.”

  “Try for me.”

  They walked slowly hand-in-hand down the stairs. In the kitchen, Tommaso smiled at her and kissed her lips softly. “Here, eat. It’s good.”

  Inca smiled at him. “Did you make it?”

  Tommaso grinned. “No. That’s how I know it’s good.”

  She appreciated both of them trying to make her feel better and truthfully, she didn’t want to be anywhere else. The soup was good, and she managed about half of it. She looked at them both, sitting with her so patiently.

  “Is it weird? What we’re doing here, I mean? The three of us?”

  Neither brother looked surprised at her question. Raffaelo sighed. “I would think, to most people, yes. But we are not most people. The love between us … it is pure, I think.”

  “I think so too.” Tommaso smoothed his hand down her hair. Inca nodded.

  “I can’t deny what we have is incredible. I love you both, so, so much … but do we have a future? What about when …” She got choked up. “When we want to have children? What happens then?”

  “That is far in the future, Principessa.”

  “Is it, though? I’m twenty-eight; you are thirty-five. In the next ten years …”

  “We will worry about that when the time comes. Surely, if anything, what has happened lately shows us we must live in the moment?” Raffaelo’s voice was quiet, but full of love. “When it comes time for children … we will have to talk.”

  She nodded. “Because our children cannot be cousins and siblings. That is a step too far, even for me.”

  Tommaso nodded. “I understand. Although it has happened before—a wife marries a man who dies, then she marries his brother.”

  “This is too complicated a discussion for this evening. Mio caro, are you cold? You’re shivering.” Raffaelo grabbed a throw from the chair next to the fire and wrapped it around her. Inca was only wearing a simple white dress, and she hugged the blanket to her now. But she shook her head.

  “No, I am not cold. I don’t know why I’m shivering …” The trembling got worse.

  Tommaso got up and came to her. “It’s the shock. Raff …help me.”

  They both wrapped their arms around Inca and held her until the trembling subsided. She smiled gratefully at them. “No one could love both of you the way I love you,” she said simply.

  Tommaso and Raff looked at each other, each reading the love for this woman in each other’s eyes.

  “We will make this work, my love,” Raffaelo said and pressed his lips to hers. Tommaso nodded.

  “I swear we will.”

  Knox got home utterly exhausted and spent. He collapsed on his couch, taking off his gun belt and closing his eyes.

  Just five minutes and I’ll go to bed.

  He was on the verge of sleep when his cell phone buzzed.

  “It’s me.”

  Olly.

  “Hey, man. What’s up?”

  “I’m out. On my way home. Is Luna with you?”

  Knox got up and checked the guest room. “No, man; she’s probably at yours. Want me to go check?”

  “Would you? She’s not answering her phone.”

  “Of course, I’ll …” He trailed off when he saw the note on his desk. His heart failed. “Olly … get home now. Now.”

  “What?” Olly sounded panicked, but Knox, his chest tight, hung up. His legs felt like jelly.

  Dear Knox,

  I’m so sorry … I never meant for Scarlett to get hurt. She was wearing Inca’s coat, and when I realized it was Scarlett, it was too late. I ended her pain quickly, but I couldn’t take it back. I loved her too. I have to finish this. I’m so sorry. Tell Olly I love him.

  Goodbye,

  Luna.

  It was after eleven when the security guard came to find them. “Miss Sardee? There’s a Luna Rosenbaum here to see you … I made her wait at the front door because it’s late … what do you want me to do?”

  “Luna’s here?” Inca got up, but Tommaso halted her.

  “It’s way too late, Inca. Tell Miss Rosenbaum to come back in the morning.'

  “No, it’s okay. Let me go see her. Thanks, Craig.”

  He nodded and left them. Tommaso shook his head at her. “I don’t like this.”

  Inca rolled her eyes. “It’s just Luna. I won’t turn my back on a friend.”

  “Let her go, Tommaso.” Raffaelo sounded irritated. “You’re not her master.”

  Inca threw a grateful look at him and patted Tommaso’s hand.

  “I won’t be a second.”

  Luna looked as if she were shivering, and Inca reached for her to pull her into the warm of the house.

  “No.” She avoided Inca’s hand, and Inca frowned.

  “What is it, bubba? What’s going on?

  Luna was staring at her, studying her intently. Inca got worried. “Are you okay? Is Olly okay?”

  Luna was still staring, her ice-blue eyes wide. “It’s like a cancer.”

  Inca was confused. “What is?” She began to shiver now— the night was cold, and her thin white dress was no protection. “Come in. I’m cold.”

  Luna gave her a strange smile. “You won’t be in a minute. Your beauty. It’s like a cancer. It infects everything you come into contact with; it always has. All those women … Nancy … your birth mom … Scarlett. She was wearing your coat.”

  Inca started to get scared now. “Luna …”

  “She was wearing your coat, and I thought it was you. I thought it was you.”

  Realization dawned, and Inca covered her mouth to stop herself screaming. “Oh, my God …”

  Luna pulled out the gun she was hiding in her pocket and leveled it at Inca. “I won’t make the same mistake this time. No more cancer.”

  And she shot Inca. Inca staggered back, blood blooming across her right side. She stumbled and dropped to the floor as Luna pointed the gun at her again and fired another bullet at her. Inca had raised her arm to defend herself, and the bullet smashed through her forearm and grazed her temple. In horror, she saw Luna place
d the muzzle against her own head, and as Inca heard shouts coming from every direction, Luna smiled at her and blew her own brains out.

  The last thing Inca remembered were the horrified faces of her two lovers as she lost consciousness …

  Snowbound #4

  Sorrento, now …

  She sat on the stone seat that was carved into the wall of the villa and looked out over the Bay. Lights from the city, from the boats that bobbed in the marinas, from Naples across the water, twinkled in the gloom of twilight. Inca rubbed her arm absentmindedly. The wound, a through-and-through like the one in her side, had healed now, two months after the shooting, but it still ached occasionally. Mostly when she allowed herself to think about what had happened that terrible night …

  Willowbrook, then …

  She opened her eyes to see Tommaso, Raffaelo, and a stranger gazing down at her, all talking at once. There was pain in her side, her arm, her head and she couldn’t see out of her left eye. No, not blind, there was something …blood. There was blood streaming into her eye.

  I’ve been shot.

  OhGodohGodohGod … Luna. Luna shot me. Luna killed herself …

  Inca struggled into a sitting position, despite the protestations from her lovers and the paramedic attending her, her one good eye searching. She saw the covered body on the marble floor, the front door to the mansion opened behind her.

  No. No, please, no, Luna …

  She pushed their hands away and tried to crawl towards her old friend’s body, tears beginning to flood down her face. She screamed at them, hysterical now as they stopped her. Raffaelo pulled her forcibly back against him, while Tommaso, his beautiful eyes scared, cradled her face in his warm hands.

  “Bella, there’s nothing you can do, mio caro, nothing to do …let us look after you.”

  Inca stared at him as if uncomprehending. “She didn’t mean it,” she whispered, eventually. “It was a mistake. Don’t let them crucify her … please, don’t let them. Oh God … Olly. Someone has to tell Olly. I have to tell Olly …”

  “Miss Sardee, please, we have to take care of you now.” The paramedic exchanged worried glances with Tommaso, who nodded. Inca felt the prick of a needle in her arm. They were sedating her.

  “No,” she said. “No. Please, I need to—I need to …”

  She felt her body betray her again as the sedative took effect. As she lost consciousness, she felt a tear drop down her cheek, and Raffaelo’s lips kiss it away.

  Raffaelo felt sick. He and Tommaso were at the hospital now, waiting in the relative’s room as Inca was being examined. When they’d heard the shots and rushed out to the sight of Inca lying on the floor, blood pouring from her side, her arm, and worse, her head, his heart had failed. Looking at Tommaso now, he could see his brother felt the same.

  Tommaso turned terrified eyes on him. “She’ll be okay, right?”

  Raffaelo knew Tommaso was looking for him to be the strong one again, to be the positive one, but this time, God, this time, he didn’t know if he could be. The relief at seeing that the head wound Inca had suffered was only a flesh wound despite the blood, was counteracted by how she had reacted with panic, fear, and terror. After everything she had been through lately, if she had a psychotic break, no one would blame her.

  God, what a fucking mess. The horror at seeing Luna Rosenbaum, her blue eyes staring, half her head missing … what the fuck had happened? Raffaelo felt both rage and sympathy for Olly—had he put his sister up to this? In his heart, he knew he hadn’t, but God …

  “I’m going to call Tyler.” Tommaso’s voice broke into his reverie. “He should hear this from me, not the police.”

  “Good idea.”

  Tommaso pulled out his phone, but before he could call Tyler, the doctor came in. “She’ll be fine,” he said, nodding to them. “Both bullets went straight through with no major damage. Her arm suffered a slight fracture but it won’t even need a cast.”

  Raffaelo frowned. “I thought she was shot three times.”

  The doctor shook his head. “The wound to the head was a deflection—she raised her arm like this.” He demonstrated, raising his arm in front of his face. “The perpetrator aimed at her face, and her arm got in the way. It saved her. From the trajectory, the second bullet would have hit her in the forehead and probably killed her.”

  Raffaelo tasted bile then and saw Tommaso wince. “Will she need surgery?”

  “Minor, just to close the wounds. We’ll take her into surgery in a few moments. Would you like to see her before we take her down?”

  Inca was still drowsy from the sedative, but the blood on her face had been cleaned up and butterfly stitches across the graze on her temple. Raffaelo couldn’t help but see what the doctor had described, a bullet hole smashed into her lovely forehead, her dark eyes open and sightless.

  She’s alive; she’s here …

  He waited until Tommaso had bent down to kiss her before leaning in. “Ti amo,” he whispered in her ear as he kissed her cheek. He was aware of a female police officer, a doctor, and a nurse in the room; the last thing they needed now was to have the secret of their relationship out in the open. He didn’t think Inca could survive any more pain.

  Inca nodded at them both. “Love you,” she whispered, and her eyes filled with tears. “I don’t understand why Luna did it … why?”

  She began to cry quietly, and Tommaso sat beside her, his arm wrapped around her. Raffaelo was heartsick. He wanted to be able to comfort her like that, declaring his love publicly.

  God, is that what you’re thinking of at a time like this?

  But Raffaelo knew that his love for Inca was becoming his reason for being, his whole life. He would give everything to be with her.

  “They’re going to take you down soon, but the docs say you could be out in a couple of days.”

  Inca nodded. “Will you call Tyler? Tell him not to come back here because of this. Tell him to stay there, stay safe—at least until the funeral … Mom’s funeral, that is. After that, please, both of you, can we just go to Italy? I don’t want to be here anymore, don’t want to be here …” She began to sob.

  She sounded so depressed, so scared, and so devastated that it broke Raffaelo’s heart. He saw Tommaso blink away tears. Raffaelo leaned forward and took her hand. “Of course, we can leave, mio caro. We’ll make all the arrangements. Just concentrate on getting well. We’ll leave as soon as you’re physically able.”

  Inca squeezed his hands. “Thank you, Raff. Thank you, Tommaso …”

  Nancy’s funeral was attended by most of the townsfolk. Inca clutched Tyler’s hand tightly, guilt making her chest ache. She felt the eyes of the congregation on her—judging? Blaming? I’m so sorry, Mom. I love you. She felt a hand on the back of her neck, comforting. Raffaelo. He and Tommaso had helped carry Nancy’s casket into the little church. Hunter, Knox and a friend of Tyler’s, Jim, had also helped Tyler as pallbearers.

  Olly wasn’t there. He had apologized to Tyler with a phone call and told him he wasn’t ready to see Inca yet. Tyler had reassured him that they understood, but that was another layer of guilt for Inca.

  God.

  The medical examiner hadn’t yet released Luna’s body, but she knew that when he did, Olly would not want her at Luna’s funeral.

  Whatever you need, old friend.

  She sighed. Knox looked over at her and gave her a reassuring smile. She tried to smile back, but just shook her head. Knox had been attentive since the shooting—she was grateful, but she knew Tommaso and Raffaelo were getting annoyed at his constant presence.

  “Does he think we can’t protect you?”

  She thought about that now, staring over at the Sound. So much loss. She brushed a tear away. Boomer came wandering around the corner and shuffled over to her, sticking his nose into her hand for a fuss.

  “Hello.” She was surprised. “Who let you out?”

  “I did. I thought he needed a run.” Raffaelo followed Boomer around the corn
er. “Hope that’s okay?”

  She smiled and nodded. Raffaelo sat down next to her, pulled his tie apart, and undid his collar. He winked at her, reaching out and running his hand lightly down the back of her head. She leaned into his touch.

  “How are you, bella?”

  She nodded again. “Okay. What about you?”

  “Same.” He gave her a sad smile. “It was a beautiful service.”

  “Least I could do.” Her voice had a catch in it.

  Raffaelo frowned and leaned his face closer to hers. “Hey.” She looked at him. He put his head on the side and smiled. “It’s not your fault.” He slid his hand onto the back of her neck. There were tears in her eyes.

  “How can it not be, Raff? My name cut into her and the other victims. Why doesn’t he just kill me?”

  Raffaelo winced. “Please, bella. Please stop saying that. I can’t bear it. The thought of you dying … it would kill me.”

  “Hey. I thought I’d find you hiding out here. Hi, Raffaelo.” Knox pushed the back door open. Inca turned and smiled at him. Raffaelo ignored him, smirking when Boomer started to growl.

  There was an uncomfortable silence. Knox cleared his throat. “Some of your guests are leaving, Inca.”

  Raffaelo looked round at the other man and gave him a cold stare. Inca began to stand up, but Raffaelo pulled her down.

  “I’m sure they’ll find their way to the front door.” Raffaelo’s tone was frosty. “Inca’s done enough for the day. And they’re Tyler’s guests too, in case you’ve forgotten.”

  Knox stared back at him, eyes narrowed. “Inca?”

  Inca sighed. “It’s okay, Knox. They’ll find me if they want me. If not …”

  “As you wish.” Knox turned and went back into the house.

  “Jerk.”

  For once, Inca agreed with Raffaelo. Today, Knox felt more like an intruder. His presence had been irksome, his ability to always be there when she turned around, irritating her.