RIP ME: A Dark Romance

by Naomi West

  “What?” he asks and strokes a hand over my cheek.

  “I’m in love with you.”

  His eyes widen and soften as he takes in my whole expression. Opens his mouth and closes it.

  “I love you so much,” I say, stroking my hand over his, “and I have for a long time.”

  “I love you too,” he says and rolls us over.

  My legs come around his hips and he pushes inside me, joining our bodies as tightly as our hearts.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Dare

  “Alessia, you have to calm down,” I say as she paces back and forth in the bedroom, my button up shirt falling almost to her knees.

  “No, Dare, I don’t have to do shit.” She crosses her arms over her chest and glares.

  She’s mad as hell and I’m just grateful it’s not at me. I’ve just told her the whole story, everything from walking in on Rett and Fabi, to Fabi and Dante coming to Greco’s house with me.

  “I just- I can’t- I don’t even-,”

  “Breathe, gorgeous. Just breathe.”

  “I can’t!” she throws her hands up in the air and rips open a drawer. She yanks out some old jeans and pulls them on. She’s halfway down to the kitchen before I can catch up with her.

  “You!” she says, pointing at Dante as she enters the kitchen.

  I skid into the room after her, coming up short as I take in what I’m seeing.

  Dante Patrizzio is sitting at my mother’s breakfast table next to Kennedy Squire. There’s a basket of biscuits between them. My mother hums as she digs something out of the fridge and my father washes his hands at the sink. It’s a strange world.

  They all look up, completely startled when she barks at Dante. He looks up, biscuit in his mouth. “Me? What did I do?”

  “I’ll tell you what you did, you idiot. You moron. You complete and total asshole!”

  “Whoa,” Squire says, pushing back from the table like he’s ready to enjoy the show.

  “Well, tell me, why don’t you? Unless you’d rather just keep yelling at me in front of these nice people?” Dante’s voice is low and cold. It’s the same voice I’ve heard Patrizzio use a million times. It usually makes people shit their pants.

  But not Alessia. She’s rounding the table and in his face.

  “You went to Greco’s? You snuck into his house? Were involved in a firefight?”

  “Jeez, Dare, you didn’t leave anything out, did you?” Dante glares at me and pushes back in his chair to stand up over her. “Of course I did those things, Alessia. You were in danger. I couldn’t let that stand.”

  “It wasn’t up to you, Dante! That was Dare’s job. Your job was to get the fuck out of thug life.”

  “So you don’t have a problem with Dare doing what he did?” Dante snaps back at her.

  “Of course I do! I have a million problems with it. But Dare is a trained soldier. He’s been a bodyguard for the last decade. He can handle himself.”

  “I can handle myself just fine, Alessia,” Dante yells.

  “That’s not the point, Dante. The point is that you did this whole thing with Dad so that you could get out of that life. You were supposed to be staying out of that life.”

  “I did it for you, Alessia. I did it so that you’d be safe. I did it to end it all.”

  The crack of Alessia’s hand across Dante’s face rings out through the kitchen. Shit. This just got serious. His eyes burn as the mark on his cheek reddens.

  “Don’t you dare say that to me, Dante,” she says as her eyes fill. “You know better than anyone that those kinds of reasons keep you in the game. You know those kinds of reasons kept Dad in the game for twenty years.” She angrily brushes the tears out of her eyes. “You don’t think he tried to ‘end it’ when Mom died? Or when he shot you? Or when you and Fabi cut him out of your lives? Don’t you see that there was always a good enough reason to stay a gangster?”

  Something flits across Dante’s face and he reaches out for her, but she takes a step back from him.

  “It’s in our blood, Dante,” she says, her voice quaking. “This is in our blood.” She holds up the hand she just slapped him with. She points at the gun belt he has strapped over his shoulder. “For fuck sakes, D. I pistol whipped a man. Whatever this is, we have to make our peace with it. But we can’t feed it and pretend we’re just about to get free from it.”

  He stares at her and for a moment I think he’s about yell at her but then he reaches out and brings her forehead to his. “You’re right,” he whispers, “I won’t apologize for bringing down Greco for you. But you’re right about getting out of the game. It isn’t possible to be a halfway mobster.”

  “Cold turkey, D,” she says, her voice burning with emotion. “No more mob life.”

  “Cold turkey,” he repeats and lifts his head. “You know that means leaving Chicago. That probably means leaving the States.”

  “So,” my mother butts in, “you’ll live here.” She dusts her hands off like that’s that.

  “Quite a passionate lady yeh’ve got there, boy,” my father says to me, taking a healthy bite of a biscuit.

  Alessia has the grace to blush a little at the show she just put on for my parents.

  Dante laughs a little. “I’ll have to ask my wife, Clara, if we can live here. But I’m willing to bet she’d say yes. As long as we could spend summers in Paris. We better steer clear of Italy, though,” his eyes glinting with humor as he looks down at Alessia.

  She takes another step back from him. “Excuse me, did you just say ‘wife’?”

  Something akin to panic flashes across Dante’s face. “Um. Yeah. I forgot to tell you that we tied the knot a few days ago. With everything that was happening, you know, we just felt like we wanted to be married.”

  Alessia pinches the bridge of her nose in apparent rage. “I need a phone.” She holds out her hand to me and I slap my cell into it. She leaves the kitchen, typing in Clara’s number as she goes. The second the call connects we can hear the two women laughing and squealing together.

  “Wow,” Kennedy says, reaching for the jam. “You Patrizzio’s really know how to put on a show, you know?”

  Dante grunts and reaches back to work out a knot in his neck. “You have no idea.”

  “I want to marry her,” I say to Dante with no preamble, shoving my hands into the pockets of my pants. For the second time in as many minutes the room freezes. I look up at my parents. “I guess I’m telling you guys, too. I want to be with her forever. You know. Marry her.”

  My father is the first one to move and a face-wide grin splits his expression. “Couldn’t do better, boy. She’s a real gem.”

  My mother comes over and kisses my cheek. “I was hoping you felt that way. I have a real soft spot for her.” She hugs me and the second she releases me, my eyes seek out Dante.

  We’ve always had a certain respect for one another but the last few days has brought us even closer. I wouldn’t be comfortable asking for her hand in marriage without his approval. In a way, I’m asking to be his brother as well.

  He rises and walks toward me. There’s little twinkle in his eye. I hold out my hand for a shake. But in a move that I’ve seen his father execute a hundred times, he takes me by the face and kisses me on one cheek and then the other. He pulls back and claps me on the back. “Welcome to the family, brother.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Alessia

  “Rett says their place is really cute, only she wishes they had a washer and a dryer. And she says that she’s been picking up French really fast. I’m so jealous. I never could pick it up.”

  I’ve been babbling for half an hour but Dare won’t bite. There’s something on his mind and he won’t bring it up.

  “I think we should go to Paris for a week in the springtime. Rett and Fabi would love to host us and I know you’d love Paris. You’ve never been there, right? And by that time, Clara and Dante will have moved most of their stuff. I still can’t believe it happened ex
actly the way he guessed it would. Paris for half the year and Scotland for the other half. I just wish they were starting out in Scotland first. I really miss them.”

  “I think it was the red dress,” Dare says suddenly as we stroll along. The wind comes off the water and whips my hair around. It snowed a few days ago, but the sun is shining through patches in the clouds and melting it off.

  I’m half grateful that he cut off my rambling speech and half completely confused.

  “Huh?” I say, super eloquently.

  “The minute I first saw you in that red dress, remember that?”

  “When I was getting dressed up for that date?”

  Dare scoffs. “If you can call that a date. That little fuckwad was going to take you bowling.”

  I throw my hands up in the air. “Point conceded. Now what were you saying about that red dress?”

  “Oh yeah,” Dare’s scowl at the memory of my almost-date with Chris dissolves and is replaced with a much calmer, happier look. “That was the moment I knew I wanted to give you this.”

  He reaches in his pocket and pulls something out. He presses it into my hand and I stop walking to see what it is, even though part of me has already guessed. My heart stops. It’s a ring. It’s gold, definitely antique, formed in the shape of a Scottish rose. My heart absolutely stops. By the time I tear my eyes away from the ring and I brush the tears out of my eyes, he’s on his knees before me.

  “Alessia Patrizzio. I don’t even know how long I’ve loved you. Because I don’t remember what it feels like to not have this love for you. Every memory I have, I look back and my love for you is there. Before I met you even.”

  His eyes are so deep, so soft, pinning me in place. For a flash of a second I remember how I used to see him. A huge, striking bodyguard who pushed me around and did my father’s bidding. Who dragged me out of classrooms, drove me around in a big SUV, but that version of Dare is washed away in the wind. The only version of him that I know is the man kneeling before me. Handsome, kind, loving, and so sexy he makes my eyes cross. And staring up at me like his world revolves around me.

  “Gorgeous, you’re the love of my life,” he says. “I’m gonna love you until the day I die.”

  He rises up back to his feet and draws me into a kiss. But I pull away. “Wait!” I laugh. “You didn’t ask me.”

  “Ask you what?” he says.

  “To marry me?” I prompt.

  “Well, if you’re asking then my answer is ‘yes’,” he smiles into my scowl and kisses me so hard I don’t even hear the ocean anymore.

  Epilogue I

  Alessia

  3 Years Later

  For some reason my foot just won’t stop bouncing. Dare reaches over and grips my hand, drawing circles on my wrist with his thumb.

  “Take a breath, gorgeous,” he whispers and his breath on my ear soothes me more than his words do.

  I hate this place. I hate the smell. I hate the lighting. I hate the ugly khaki jumpsuits. It’s my fifteenth time visiting in three years.

  The first time I visited my father in prison, he was well into serving his first year. I’d brought pictures of our wedding. He’d cried over them, running his fingers over the little white dress I’d worn and the bowties that Dante and Fabi had tied onto themselves.

  It had hurt him to learn that I’d had Dante’s father walk me down the aisle but in the short time that I’d known him Alistair had become more of a father to me than my own ever had been. He wasn’t quite as close to Dante or Fabi, but they certainly valued his presence in their lives.

  Both Annabelle and Alistair had become extremely important to all of the Patrizzio children. They’d even visited Fabi and Rett in Paris a few times and helped every step of the way when we’d built Dante and Clara’s house down the beach. Hell, Dante’s kids even call them Grandma and Grandpa.

  My thoughts snap back to the moment as the doors to the visiting room open and a guard leads my father toward the table where Dare and I sit and wait for him. He’s three years into his ten-year sentence. They couldn’t make any of the murder charges stick, so he only went down for weapons and drug possession. His lawyer thinks that he could be out by year six if he behaves well but my father is not doing easy time. Every time I see him, he has fresh bruises. He’s refusing to create alliances and he has a lot of enemies in jail. He’s out of mob life. He’s doing his time as an ordinary citizen. He wants to be free of it when he leaves jail.

  He’s written three letters a week for the last three years. One for me, one for Fabi, and one for Dante. The letters worked on me. It’s why I started to see him again, even though they haven’t really worked on my brothers. Fabi reads them, but Dante throws them away unopened. I hope that someday he’ll be able to forgive our father for what he did. If not just because holding a grudge takes up energy, and Dante deserves to move on.

  My dad sits down at the table across from us, his hands cuffed in front of him and the fluorescent lights washing out his skin.

  “Guinne,” he says, nodding at Dare. He still isn’t used to Dare being my husband. I think he’s suspicious that something was going on between us when I was younger. “Baby girl,” he says as he reaches across the table for my hand.

  I put my hand over his and give it a little squeeze. Even after everything he’s done, I can’t help but love him. I can see how hard he’s trying to get better. He’s doing his time because he feels like he deserves to do it. That has to count for something.

  “How are you, Dad?” I ask, shifting myself in my seat to get more comfortable.

  “Oh, you know,” he says as he waves his hand through the air. He still looks weirdly in control, regal, as he sits there in his ugly prison uniform, handcuffed and surrounded by criminals like himself. “Same old, same old.”

  I shift again and his eyes drop down, taking me in.

  “Alessia,” he says, his face going slack. “Are you-,” his voice cuts off with emotion.

  I nod, my hand going instantly to the belly that has started to protrude in the last few months. Dare’s arm slides around my shoulders and warms me.

  “Twins,” Dare says and I can so clearly hear the pride in his voice. He’d gone white when I told him. He and Alistair had gotten started immediately on the building of an addition to our cottage.

  “Twins?!” my father exclaims, his eyes welling up with tears. “Wow, I can’t believe it. My baby is having twins.”

  “I’m grown up now, Dad,” I say. “I’m almost a lawyer and everything.”

  Despite losing an entire semester, I’d managed to graduate the following summer. Almost on time. I’d gotten into law school in London right away and was finishing up my law degree there, while Dare and I bounced back and forth between our apartment there and our cottage in Scotland.

  “Should have guessed you’d become a lawyer,” Dad says, leaning back in his chair. “You always were a pain in my ass.”

  But his eyes are proud and satisfied. It took going to jail to make my father into the affectionate and attentive man he always wanted to be. I look forward to his letters, always writing him back. In a way, he’s more involved in my life from prison than he ever was from Chicago.

  We stay for a few hours, long enough that Dad gets to feel the babies kicking for a second. That sets off the waterworks again. He looks sad again when we leave, especially since we probably won’t make it back as often once the children are born.

  “Tell your brothers I love them,” he says to me as he gives me the one, quick hug that the guards permit.

  Dare holds my hand as we walk out of the building and toward the rental car. We’d considered staying in the States for a small vacation. A ‘babymoon’, Dare had called it. But in the end, we just wanted to go back to Scotland. Back to our family. Back home.

  Epilogue II

  Dare

  3 Years After That

  “Motherfucker!” Squire yells as my son, Alistair Jr., or A.J., accidentally clips him in the eye with the end of t
he aluminum bat he’s learning how to swing. “What is it with your family and hitting me in the eye with shit?!”

  “Language, Kennedy!” Clara, Dante’s wife says as she comes out onto the back patio of their house, balancing a baby on one hip and a tray of sandwiches on the other. But there’s no bite in her reprimand. I can see that she’s just on edge, nervous.

  I’d be nervous too, if I were her. She’s about to meet the man that tried to kill her all those years ago.

  Patrizzio is coming home today. He got out of prison about six months ago, but had to wait until his parole officer allowed him to visit us here in Scotland. He won’t be staying long. Just a week. But I know that he’s hoping to move here sometime soon. He’d told Alessia that the last time they’d talked on the phone.