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The Mistaken

Page 3

by Nancy S Thompson


  It was difficult admitting my part, knowing full well that I could have prevented everything: his pain, our guilt, their deaths. I could have saved everyone.

  “I was selfish. I can see that now. I didn’t want to give up any of my time with Jillian. But, in my defense, we hadn't known each very long, and for the first time in my life, I was in love. Maybe I handled it wrong. I don’t know. She just…consumed me.”

  “Yeah, Ty, I remember. That’s when everything changed. Especially you.”

  I looked up at him. “I’m sorry, Nick. Really. You deserve better. I don’t know what else to say.”

  He smiled, just a little. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything. I get it.” His grin grew wide, stretching clear across his face. “She’s damn hot.”

  I chuckled and peered back down at my feet. “Yeah, she is.”

  I shook my head, caught up in memories of our early days together. I’d never believed in love at first sight, at least not until I met Jillian Demetrio. I’d been set up on a blind date, but the girl I was to meet skipped out and sent her friend, Jillian, instead. It was serendipitous, to say the least.

  “I remember when I first met her. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. I just sat there like an idiot, staring at her. All that hair, her gorgeous smile. And her eyes, God, I got lost in them, right then and there. Not usually my style, you know.”

  “Well no, Ty, I didn’t know. Not then anyway. That’s why I followed you here from half way ‘round the frickin’ planet, to be with you, get to know you again. But then she came along and you just…disappeared.” He snapped his fingers. “Shut me out.”

  I hung my head, disappointed in myself. “I know. I’m sorry. But there was something so different about her, at least from the girls back home in Melbourne.”

  He snorted. “How would you know? You didn’t stay around long enough to find out.”

  His sharp tone put me on the defensive. “Well, I didn’t fit in like you did. You weren’t even four when we moved. I was already twelve. I had to leave all my mates back in Maida Vale and St. John’s. I was never happy in Melbourne. Nobody there seemed to get me.”

  “Maybe they would have if you’d tried to fit in. But you never did, Ty. Not once.”

  “I wasn’t like you, Nick. You were practically born there. Or you acted like it anyway. Always the wild one, taking risks and pushing limits with no regard to the rules, just like the rest of your friends.”

  He blew once on his fingernails and buffed them along his chest. “Yep, that’s me: fearless.” His serious expression gave way to an ear-to-ear grin.

  I snickered. “Yeah, you always were.”

  Nick’s smile faded. “Why did you come here, Tyler, to the States? I always thought you’d head back to London.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, me, too. But Pops was adamant I not return. Said I needed to stay with the family. He was kind of weird about it. Said it wasn’t safe, but he wouldn’t explain why. Kind of rubbed me the wrong way, like he thought I couldn’t take care of myself.” I shrugged. “But even though I resented his interference, it was hard to disregard his wishes. So I decided to tour America first then maybe return to London later. But I ended up here. I like the cool weather. Reminds me a lot of London. For whatever reason, I’ve always felt at home here, and Jillian is a large part of that.”

  I tried to explain what drew me to San Francisco and what kept me here, but what I didn’t share with Nick was that Jillian was the first person to truly get me, now more than ever. She understood my dilemma with my brother, having her own tenuous affiliation with The City’s underworld through her father, Jack.

  Jack’s brother, Joey Demetrio, was a long-time resident of North Beach, The City’s Italian hub. He boasted of nebulous mob ties, though he operated only along its periphery. Jill’s father kept his wife and daughters as far from his brother’s influence as possible, but Jillian still had wild stories to share of her Uncle Joey’s time with Jimmy Lanza and La Cosa Nostra. Unlike her father, she felt comfortable enough with the image to laugh about it. I, on the other hand, wanted nothing to do with the Russians or the Italians, at least the ones who called themselves Mafia. Yet I found myself connected, however casually, to both.

  “I know you don’t get it, Nick, but…have you ever loved or even wanted someone so much you didn’t want to live if they weren’t there right next to you every minute of the day? Well, that’s how I feel about Jill. I’d do anything to be with her. She doesn’t just talk a good game. She actually makes me feel loved. And that’s a first for me.”

  “But, God, Ty, she’s kind of high-strung. And moody. And the way she teases you. She’s fucking relentless. Any one of those would bug the shit out of me.”

  “Yeah, well, apparently my ‘stuffy English upbringing’ bugs the shit out of her.”

  Nick rolled his eyes and laughed. “Gee, I wonder why?”

  “What is it with the two of you? Rules are made for a reason, you know, to be followed, not bent. So I choose to obey them. What’s wrong with that?”

  “Well, let’s see,” Nick said, holding up one finger and then another. “It’s anal and annoying as hell.”

  “Yeah, well, Jill doesn’t care, not really. She loves me for who I am inside, not some trophy to showcase before her bloody friends.”

  Nick laughed again. “Oh yeah, like that’s been a real problem for you, huh?”

  “Yes, it has, several times!”

  “Oh, poor baby!” he replied as he hurled a pillow at my head then groaned at the pain it caused him.

  I caught it with a grunt and faked a hard pass back, stuffing it instead between my head and the wall behind me. “Hey, enough of that. Your doc said to keep still and get some rest. I’m kind of tired myself. Been here five days straight waiting for your lazy ass to wake up.”

  Nick fanned his hand in front of his nose. “Yeah, smells like it, too,” he said then laughed.

  “Just shut the hell up and go to sleep, will you?” I replied as I nestled my head back into the soft pillow.

  I closed my eyes and let my mind drift, quite easy on so little sleep. It returned straight back to those early days with Jillian. I recalled one night just before Nick’s accident, when we were sitting together on our living room sofa as I read the paper and she watched TV. I raised one brow and smiled at her, knowing full well the kind of response it would provoke, as it always did. She did a comical double take, her hooded eyes settling on mine and her finger scolding me as it twitched near the end of my nose.

  “Don’t smile like that, buster, not unless you mean business,” she warned playfully.

  I twisted a make-believe mustache between my fingers and snickered dramatically like a vaudeville villain of old. “Ah, but I have only a few weapons in my arsenal, so I use them when I must. I know how much you like it, that look, the way my eyes wrinkle. And my accent…hmm… You love that, too, don’t you?”

  I leaned over and pushed her down to lie back against the soft cushions as I hovered above. She laughed then looked at me with a provocative smile as she coiled her arms around my neck.

  “Well, of course,” she admitted. “All American girls love a man with an accent, especially that lovely up-speak way you have about you.” She raised her head then and captured me in a seductive kiss.

  I can’t even count the number of times she had said those exact words to me. Apparently, it was what she loved most about me, that and my crow’s feet, and she never missed an opportunity to tell—or show me, as the case were—just how much.

  Jill’s blood heated quickly as I moved my lips from her mouth and trailed them slowly along her jaw line and down her neck. She writhed beneath me, her hips undulating in silent need. I pulled back and opened her blouse then ran my hand over the curve of her breast before my mouth followed suit. It left a glistening trail to her nipple which stood erect beneath the lazy ministrations of my tongue.

  She moaned and ran her fingers through my hair, pulling at it in
her excitement. When she could take no more, she pushed up on my shoulders and pressed me back against the sofa. In one swift maneuver, she straddled my lap. Her hands worked deftly at my pants, unfastening the snap and sliding the zipper down. She found me ready and wasted little time on foreplay. Jill bunched up her skirt, worked her panties out of the way then slid down on me in one fluid movement. My head fell back against the sofa and I sucked in my breath.

  “Oh God, Jill!”

  With her head tipped back and her eyes closed, she moaned and rocked her hips into mine. I held her loosely at the waist as she worked over me. The discarded newspaper crinkled rhythmically beneath me as her efforts drove me closer to the brink. When she finally accomplished what she needed for herself, she tipped my head back and leaned over me with her hands wrapped around the back of my neck and her thumbs pressed against my throat. Her lips hovered a hair’s-breadth above mine as she panted into my mouth. With her eyes half closed, she stared into mine, focused and methodical, until I could hold back no longer.

  It was moments like that that took my breath away. I’d been waiting my entire life for a woman like Jill, and I made damn sure I wouldn’t lose her. After the first six months, I asked her to move in with me at my Noe Valley rental, to live in sin, I joked, and she eagerly accepted. Afterwards, our lives intertwined in every possible way.

  After living together for well over a year, I suggested we buy a house, perhaps in the Sunset District, a vibrant neighborhood that overlooked Golden Gate Park and the glittering, blue Pacific. Jill’s eyes gave her away and, at first, she appeared excited by the idea, but as the hours ticked by, she grew quiet, and I realized something was bothering her. I nestled up next to her that evening as she absently watched reality TV.

  “What’s wrong, love? You seem troubled. Have I overstepped? Wouldn’t you like to buy a home with me?

  She tilted her head and pondered how best to respond, probably in a noble attempt to answer without offending me. “No, Ty, it’s not that. It’s just…well… Don’t you think it’s kind of…I don’t know, backwards…buying a house together without, you know…being married first?” She lowered her head, nervous of my reaction.

  I raised her chin with my finger and looked at her with narrowed eyes. “Why Miss Demetrio, are you proposing to me?”

  With a tiny smile, she gasped and batted my hand away. “Absolutely not! It’s not my place to propose.”

  I laughed. “No? Well then, I’m not quite sure what to do with this ring, that is, if you don’t intend on marrying me.” I pulled out a light blue box and tipped the lid back.

  Jillian’s chin dropped as she stared transfixed at the large, square-cut diamond glistening in the soft light. Her gaze snapped up to mine.

  “Marry you? Oh my God! You really want to get married?”

  I laughed again. “Well, of course. What do you think I’ve been working toward all this time? It’s only natural for a man to want a wife, children, and a home. Don’t you think?”

  “Yes,” she answered solemnly.

  “Yes? Yes what exactly?” I wondered aloud.

  She giggled, her grin mischievous. “Yes, it’s only natural.”

  I raised one brow. “Anything else?”

  “Yes.”

  I huffed at her stubborn sense of humor. “Yes what?”

  This time, her response was little more than a whisper.

  “Yes, Tyler, I’ll marry you.”

  Chapter Four

  Tyler

  Looking back now, I could see that I was too absorbed in my relationship with Jillian and had excluded Nick to a certain degree. Of course, he was right, and I was relieved to have finally taken my share of the blame for his accident. But when I came to the States, I came to live out my dream, alone and unencumbered by my family overseas. Then Nick followed me, and I tasted bitter resentment—that he should intrude on my ambition, on my dreams. And when it fell on my shoulders to constantly pick up after his messes, I grew angry and even more contentious. In deference to my selfishness, I had learned a hard lesson in the end. Like it or not, my brother, Nick, would be forever at my side. Knowing now how close I had come to losing him, twice in fact, I decided to put all that bitterness aside. He was the only family I had left, and I loved him.

  When I opened my eyes, I turned toward Nick. He was rolled onto his side with his palm cradling his cheek, staring at me. It still felt like an ocean lay between us, but with all the unspoken words and resentment now out in the open, I felt sure we could close the gap.

  “I’m sorry, Nick. A whole year gone. I regret not saying something earlier. Guess it was just too difficult to admit. I hope someday you can forgive me.” I stretched out my hand.

  He gave me a lopsided grin, made more so by his fat lip, but it was still the same foolish smirk I’d known my entire life, a little something he borrowed from our father. “It’s already forgotten,” he said, accepting my apology with a tender handshake. “I’ll always be there for you, brother.”

  I smiled. “Well I’m glad to hear that because…I’d like you to stand up for me at my wedding in the fall. Would you do that for me?”

  Nick looked genuinely surprised, happy even. Then a shadow fell across his features. His brow knitted together as he dropped his eyes to his hand fidgeting with the bed sheets.

  “Um…well…I’ll have to think about it, if you don’t mind,” he said as he peeked back up at me. “I have a few things I need to take care of as soon as I get out of here. I’ll give you my answer then, if that’s okay with you.”

  I was stunned. I thought this was something he would jump all over. He was always bugging me to do things with him. It concerned me that he didn’t accept right away, and I was curious what things he was referring to, but he rolled over and laid his head back with his eyes closed.

  “Right,” I replied. “Whenever you’re ready then.”

  I excused myself and walked down the hall for a much needed cup of coffee. Jill called my mobile and told me she was on her way, so we met in the hospital cafeteria for a quiet lunch. She showed up, bridal magazines in hand, and shared all the pages she had dog-eared with a bright light glowing in her eyes. I smiled, but only half-heartedly, and told her what Nick had said when I asked him to be my best man.

  Sadness replaced the glowing spark, and her bottom lip pouted. “He’ll turn around, Ty. Nick just needs a few weeks to recover, that’s all. He’s had a very difficult year.”

  I agreed with a solemn nod and kissed her cheek as she left for an appointment. I felt a slight grip of loneliness tighten about my heart as I watched her leave. Sighing tiredly, I lifted myself from the chair and left to return to my brother.

  As I walked down the long hall, stepping around the busy nurses and technicians as they scurried between patients, two men I didn’t recognize walked out of Nick’s private room. One was tall with a massive build, the fabric of his sport coat stretching tautly across his broad shoulders. The other was older with thick silver hair, a slight build, and impeccably dressed in an expensive, well-cut European suit. The older man turned back toward Nick’s open door with a two-finger salute and a genial dasvidaniya. A chill ran through me as his unmistakable Russian accent registered in my fatigued brain. I picked up my pace and called out to him.

  “Hey you, stop! Who are you? What do you want? Stop right there! Stop!”

  Both men turned their heads in my direction, but proceeded briskly toward the open elevator door at the end of the hall. They turned back to me as they boarded the lift. The old man caught my eye and smiled while the giant jabbed repeatedly at the elevator’s buttons.

  “Wait!” I called out again, but the doors hissed closed, and they were gone.

  With concern fluttering in my stomach, I rushed back to Nick’s room, bumping into another technician as he wheeled a loaded cart past the open door. Nick stood near the window, staring down onto the busy street below. He didn’t turn as I entered though I knew he must have heard me shouting out in the hall.<
br />
  “Who was that?” I asked. “What did they want?” But he continued to gaze out the window without responding. I walked up from behind and rested my hand along his forearm. “Nick, did you hear me? Who were those men?”

  His expression was wistful but resigned. “Just some mates. New friends of mine. No one you know.”

  “Since when do you have Russian friends? What the hell did they want?”

  Nick sighed, his brow furrowing for a split second before he turned and looked me in the eye. “Not much. Alexi and I… Well…we’ve finally worked out a deal, that’s all. Everything’s been taken care of.”

  “Who the hell is Alexi? And what does that mean, you’ve worked out a deal?”

  He stalled for a moment and rocked his head from side to side. “Well, he’s kind of like a manager, I guess. Said his boss was willing to give me the…opportunity to pay him back, that’s all. No worries.” He jabbed me with his elbow. “You can relax now, Ty.”

  But relaxing was the furthest thing from my mind. That flutter and my lunch roiled together in the pit of my stomach.

  “And how’s that work, Nick? Huh? How are you supposed to pay them back? You don’t have any money. You don’t even have a job.”

  He looked me in the eye for a long moment then broke away to stare out the window. “Yeah, well… It looks as though I have one now, brother.” He turned and shuffled slowly back to his bed, grimacing in discomfort as he pulled himself up under the covers.

  I stared after him with my mouth slack. “What have you done, Nick?”

  He lay there silently, his eyes closed against me.

  I grabbed his shoulder. “Godammit, you tell me what you’ve done!”

  He jerked free, his face twisted in an angry scowl. “What I had to, Ty!”

 

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