by Lisa Cardiff
Emilia
Part Two
The Trassato Crime Family
Book #4
By Lisa Cardiff
Emilia: Part two
Copyright © 2018 by Lisa Cardiff.
All rights reserved.
First Print Edition: Date July 2018
Limitless Publishing, LLC
Kailua, HI 96734
www.limitlesspublishing.com
Formatting: Limitless Publishing
ISBN-13: 978-1-64034-398-6
ISBN-10: 1-64034-398-9
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
CHAPTER FORTY
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
A handful of chalky, gray dirt mixed with dried pine needles streamed through my fingers, hitting the fresh mound of soil. I tightened my grip on the last teaspoonful, cradling it in my palm like I could freeze time if I didn’t let go. My body shook, tears and snot rolled down my chin, and a tormented mishmash of a sob and a hiccup tore from my lips.
I’m so sorry, Gavin. I’m so sorry.
Lifting my head, I drank in the purplish blue haze of the twilight sky marred with clouds that looked like smudges of oil. The looming darkness signaled how insanely long it had been since the last mourner abandoned me on this forgotten mountainside to wallow in my regrets.
For three, maybe four hours, I filled the silence with screams, cries, a thousand obscenities, and too many apologies to count. Sadly, none of my tantrums changed the reality in front of me. They only ended up scaring the random hikers trudging through the trail winding away from this tiny sliver of land toward the abandoned mine on the way back to town.
My husband, the only person who ever accepted my faults and let me make my own decisions, was dead. And I killed him. I fucking killed him. Although my hand or my gun didn’t do the deed, I accepted responsibility for his death all the same. Only twenty-nine years old, and I had robbed him of everything.
Countless choices. Innumerable forks in the road. Dozens of chances to do the right thing.
I ignored them all, believing I had outmaneuvered my family. Only the Trassato crime family and my dad in particular proved they’d always be one step ahead of me, and I’d wear the mantle of their sins and expectations around my neck until I joined Gavin in death.
I unfurled my fist and let the last grains of dirt spill onto the spot in the ground forever carved out for him. Dusting off my hands on my black shift dress, I wiped away the evidence of my grief.
As much as I loathed to admit it, Gavin’s brother Brandon was right; I didn’t deserve to grieve. I didn’t deserve the countless expressions of solidarity and concern from our acquaintances and neighbors in this small town. I ruined Gavin’s life long before he died, and I could hardly look any of them in eyes over the past week, or even today for the matter. I should be the one being lowered into the ground for eternity, not him. Never Gavin. My sweet, selfless Gavin. He sacrificed so much for me, far more than the accusations Brandon spewed at me this morning.
The police didn’t have a clue what happened. There wasn’t any evidence of foul play, so right now the running theory was that Gavin killed himself. I didn’t believe it, and I had every reason to be suspicious considering the identity of my family. In my mind, I owed it to Gavin to keep fighting. To put his killer behind bars. To live a life that would make him proud even if living in this close-knit town without him for another day made my stomach heave.
“Goddamn you!” I screamed, raising my arms into the air like wings of a fallen angel.
“Emilia.”
The familiar voice bristled the hair on the back of my neck. I froze, reluctant to turn around. It had been over five years since I saw Salvatore D’Amico. I had moved to the middle of nowhere, changed my name, and married Gavin, all in an effort to get away from my father. Deep down, though, I knew running away from everything I’d ever known had plenty to do with the man standing behind me.
My father killed my allegiance to him and my family. Sal slaughtered my faith in men, and Gavin bore the brunt of my shattered heart and trust. Piece by piece, he earned my friendship and loyalty, and when I finally spilled the truth about my past, he asked me to marry him. In hindsight, I should have run away from Gavin that second and faced my past. However, I’d been too weak, and my weakness had destroyed him.
“Go away, Sal,” I said, my voice rickety with defeat. While I knew my father would send someone for me, I had hoped his minion would have the decency to stay away on the day of my husband’s funeral.
“I can’t. He sent me here to bring you home. Our flight leaves in three hours, and we have a helluva drive to get to the airport.”
Sighing, I dragged the toe of my black boots through the crumbling leaves and underbrush. “I’m not leaving the home I’ve made here, and I’m certainly not in the mood for your company. I’m a little bit busy mourning my only family.”
His shoes crunched over the dirt, and he squeezed my shoulders. His warm breath puffed against my bare neck, and I bit the inside of my cheek, simultaneously fighting the urge to succumb to the kindness in his touch and punch him in the face. It had been hard burying Gavin without the people who truly knew me. And for better or worse, the Trassatos were my family and Marcello was something…Like clockwork, merely thinking his name made me die a little inside.
“I know what you’re thinking, Em. You’re planning to run again. Don’t do it. Your family loves you. They want you back. We all do.”
I whirled around, the half dead blood-pumping organ beneath my ribcage beating fast and desperately. Sal stood less than a foot from me, his face exactly as I remembered it—all razor-sharp angles, a little curve at the bridge of his nearly too long nose, perfectly counterbalanced by his full bottom lip. The heavy shadow of stubble made his olive skin appear darker along his jaw. Nostalgia pinched at my chest. Too bad he didn’t look as ugly o
n the outside as he was on the inside. It would make seeing him so much easier.
“Don’t. Okay? Just don’t start with the lies today of all days. Not when I have every reason to suspect my deranged family put a contract out on my husband and killed him.”
He reeled backward as if I had physically slapped him. “I don’t know what’s goin’ on in your head, but I can assure you the Trassatos didn’t have anything to do with your husband’s death.”
I shoved the hard wall of his chest, and he stumbled, unprepared for my assault. “He was shot through the mouth. I may have been young and naïve when I ran away, but even I know that type of killing is a message in our world.”
“What would we have to gain from killing him, Em? He was just some guy in the middle of nowhere Colorado living his life. A boring ass life by most accounts. What the fuck do you do in this town anyway? Is there even a bar?”
I raised my hands into the air, dismissing the comments about this town because they were mostly accurate. You didn’t live here if you didn’t live, breathe, and eat the great outdoors. “I don’t know. Why does the great Dominick Trassato do anything? Maybe he was pissed I left. Maybe he didn’t like that he couldn’t control me anymore. Maybe he resented that Gavin wasn’t Italian. I don’t have a clue. Why don’t you enlighten me? Because I’d bet my life you know more than me.”
“Oh, come on. I don’t interact with your dad on a daily basis, you know that. I work with your cousin, Gian, now. He doesn’t share that shit with me.”
“If that’s true, then tell me why he sent you of all people. Why not Gian or Carmela? They’re my real family.”
Thinking about them hurt. As unusual as our relationship was on most days, I missed my cousins. They were the only people who never had an agenda when it came to me.
Two dents materialized between his brows as though he didn’t understand the question. “Who else would he send? Everyone knows we were friends before you took off. I was the most logical choice, and I wanted to be here for you. I can’t stand the thought of you being alone during all this.”
“Friends?” My voice shrank, and my vision dimmed. I clutched my chest, the ache blooming beneath my breastbone verging on unbearable for too many reasons to name. All of them made me hate myself even more than I already did. I had put nearly half a decade and thousands of miles between us, and he still had the power to wound me. “That’s what you’d call what we were?”
He chucked me underneath me chin, and his mouth hitched up in a look that was so familiar, so heartening, I wanted to stab him right through the eye with the tree branch hanging over our heads. His dumb smile and lies had haunted me relentlessly since I fled, and it pissed me the heck off.
“Of course. I know we haven’t talked in a long time, but that doesn’t change anything. I still care about you, and I’ve missed you, tesoro.”
My head wagged back and forth in total disbelief. Snapshots of memories crammed inside of my brain like a train wreck. I had trusted Sal. Hell, once upon a time I even believed I had loved him. Yet he stood here in front of me, pretending he hadn’t sliced out my heart and handed it to me on a platter years ago. He was a lying, cheating piece of shit just like my father.
“You really care about me? Even now after all these years?” I tipped up my chin, slanted my body toward him, and tugged on the tail of his slate blue tie. He looked out of place in this small mountain town populated by adrenaline junkies, ski bums, and pot-loving drifters.
His eyes widened like he couldn’t believe I’d make this so easy for him. He was right to be suspicious. “Yeah, Em, you know I do.”
I smiled inwardly at the roughness in his voice. He almost sounded believable. Then again, he always had a knack for deception. “You missed me?”
“You wouldn’t believe how much.” Edging closer to me, he rested his forehead against mine. The tip of his finger traced a line down the side of my throat, and I let him, ignoring my weakness for all things Sal. He’d always had a thing for my neck, and I wasn’t too proud to use every tool in my arsenal to distract him. “We have a history together. I couldn’t forget you even if I wanted to. I know this isn’t the time or place to say this, but you’ll always own a piece of me. You have to know that.”
I sighed, feeling overwhelmed and vulnerable. Being so close to him simultaneously made my pulse go on a rampage and my stomach stir with nausea. The air was thick with unspoken accusations, regrets, and sadness. So much damn sadness, I struggled to take in a breath of the thin mountain air.
My dead husband’s resting place sat less than ten feet behind me, and an increasingly vocal part of me wanted to wrap my arms around Sal and beg him to carry me back to my family so they could shelter me from the coming storm, because deep down I knew shit was about to get ugly.
Evidently, some things never changed, because as much as I cursed my family’s existence, they were always in my thoughts. Lies, betrayal, and marrying someone else—my heart didn’t care about any of that. It craved the fucked-up security being a Trassato held. I banished all of the unwelcome emotions from my mind and stepped back, severing any contact with him both physically and mentally. Fuck Sal and his smooth words and charming little smirk. Fuck my dad and his demands to come home. I knew better than to buy their snake oil. In their world, love and help came with titanium strings.
“Do me a favor, Sal.”
“Anything.”
“Let me go. Tell my dad I refused to go with you or you couldn’t find me. Please, I’m begging you. I can’t go back there. I have stuff to do here.”
His face dropped. “Em, you know I can’t do that. Your father will find out, and I’d be as good as dead.”
Hostility and resentment fired through my veins like venom. My father. My fucking father. Everything always revolved around him. I brushed past Sal, picking up speed when I hit the meandering gravel trail leading me back to the makeshift parking lot at the edge of the cemetery. My boots banged against the ground, each impact sending mini-bursts of pain spiraling up my legs. I heard Sal’s shouts and his heavy footfalls. I paid no attention to either, only letting up when I reached my car.
Wheezing and my heart flying, I searched my bottomless hobo purse for my keys, except I wasn’t fast enough. Sal’s arms circled my waist, and he heaved me over his shoulder like I weighed twenty pounds instead of a hundred and five. It sucked being petite. People thought it was a license to push me around.
My fists thudded against his back. “Put me down!”
“No.” He opened the passenger door of a nearby black SUV and shoved me inside, his body blocking my exit. I spotted the silver flash of a gun tucked inside his suit jacket, and a trickle of unease zigzagged down my spine. Logically, I didn’t think he’d hurt me, but I couldn’t be certain. Years in the company of the Trassato crime family changed people, and not for the better.
Pacing, he tugged at his hair. “I don’t get it, Em. What did I do to make you hate me? I fucking adored you. I loved you. I put my ass on the line for you over and over, and you took off without a goodbye. Not a note, not a text, nothing. And now you look at me like I’m the one who betrayed you.”
Scoffing, I folded my arms across my chest. “I don’t want to talk about the past.”
“Too bad. I’ve waited years to hear your explanation.”
“You can keep on waiting.”
“Goddammit, give me some fucking closure. You left me, not the other way around. Even when I found out you were gone, I didn’t give up on you. I waited for you to call and tell me where I could find you, and you know what? You never did. I didn’t give up on you, though. No, not me. Like a fool, I thought you’d come back until I heard you married someone else. Even then, I couldn’t hate you. So don’t act like you’re the injured party. I’m the one who got screwed over. You left me high and dry.”
My head snapped in his direction, my eyes glaring in disgust. I breathed in and out of my nose, trying to reel in my fury. “I saw you, so don’t even pretend
you give a shit that I left without you.”
“Saw me? What are you talking about?”
“I saw you at my dad’s bar the night before my nineteen birthday.”
“Yeah, so?”
“I went there to find you. Marcello wanted us to leave the next day, and I needed to talk to you about what happened. I scoured the place for you, and I nearly gave up until I heard your voice in one of the private lounges. When I peeked inside, I saw you with Lettie. I heard everything. Every—fucking—word.”
“I don’t know what…” Then he must have remembered, because his face blanched. “I-I…shit. It wasn’t what you’re thinking. Let me explain. There’s so much I need to tell you.”
I sucked in a breath, my throat thick with the urge to cry for the hundredth time in the last three days. “No. I heard everything I needed to that night. The last thing I want is an excuse. I only brought it up so you’ll stay the fuck away from me and let me go.”
He tipped his head to the now inky sky and folded his arms across his chest. “I can’t.”
CHAPTER TWO
“Time to get up, sleepy head.”
Someone nudged my shoulder, and my head flopped to the side. My cheek pressed against the cold window, and my eyes popped open, blinking rapidly as I took in my surroundings. Oyster-colored leather bucket seats, oval windows, the loud hum of an airplane. The events of the last couple of days hit me like a punch to the gut.