I didn’t mention that I’d been thinking of kissing her since she got there and that I could fill my days with that. Less than three weeks to go.
We could do it.
The rest of the day we looked for her bag. I took her down the path furthest from where I’d hidden it. The heavy leather material would protect the contents from more rain or wild animals. I wasn’t worried that we wouldn’t find it. I was worried we would find it too soon and that would be suspicious.
I didn’t need her knowing that I’d had it and knew where it was from the beginning. That would put a severe cramp in making her fall in love with me.
Chapter 9
Stephenie
Three days later and we still hadn’t found my bag. Despair was moving in to replace my hope and I didn’t dare tell Carter that without the file of evidence, he’d be implicated in the Rossi and Capone trial.
The doms and underbosses had worked for the last six months on creating and digging up evidence that would mark Carter as the money launderer and drug trafficker the feds blamed the Rossis and the Capones for. He was their chosen scapegoat.
To be honest, the feds were idiots as far as I was concerned. I didn’t need to include my brother, Angelo’s, new fiancée. She was ex-FBI and I wasn’t sure how much I trusted her to be honest. Plus, the Rossis and Capones didn’t traffic drugs. Sure, we took part in the occasional money laundering scheme, territory tax wars, political swaying with regards to zoning and other governmental involvement in the construction companies, as well as some other items falling off trucks and getting sold out of state. But… to be fair, we went out of our way not to be involved in drugs, human trafficking, or prostitution.
I also had evidence that proved we were moving out of that activity and into the legal arena.
Oh, and we had so many illegal gambling sites, you’d think we were trying to create a reservation of Italians instead of Native Americans.
I leaned back on the couch armrest and dropped the book Carter had let me borrow. The splashy red, white, and black cover annoyed me almost as much as the narrative. “This is a joke, right? I’ve never met this lady but she seems dumb.” He’d handed me an autobiography about an Italian mob family from the east coast. The main narrator was obviously a woman and she made me want to smack her.
“What seems dumb about it?” Carter lowered his own book, studying me across the short distance between us.
What would he do if I stretched out my legs and rested my feet on his lap? The temptation to do exactly that almost stopped me from answering his question. I snapped myself out of the intimacy of the moment.
On the couch, we were feet away from cuddling with each other. With little else to do since the storms had rolled back in sometime that morning, Carter had recommended we read on the couch together.
Together was the deciding factor for me. I’d pretty much do whatever he wanted, if he said we would do it together, to be honest.
Back to his question, I glanced at the overly made up picture of the woman on the back with her 1980’s hair style that took up more of the picture than her face did. “Well, for starters, we don’t talk about the business with the men. She acts like she knew what was happening all the time, like the dom all the way down to the soldiers included her in everything. My bet is, she’s making up half this stuff.”
He furrowed his brow and narrowed his eyes as he listened. “Why do you think it’s made up? You have information on the families on this coast, right? Isn’t that what you’re turning in?” A slight spark of worry shadowed his eyes.
I didn’t want him to worry, so I rushed on. “I do, but I wasn’t involved in anything. I got my information just by watching, you know? Sitting around the house, acting like a dimwitted female got me more information than a lot of the men there.” It wasn’t something to brag about, acting stupid, but it had worked and I wanted to draw attention to the fact that women weren’t treated like equals in that lifestyle.
We were essentially arm chattel and covers and alibis. The thought of the very backwardness of the whole culture made me laugh. “You know what my mom told me once before she passed away? She said that if you wanted to be important in Little Italy, you had to either be a man with futuristic planning or a woman who valued tradition.” I shook my head, suddenly sad at the memory of my mother. “So, essentially a man from the future and a woman from the past.”
Carter chuckled, setting his book to the side. “I don’t think you’re a woman from the past, Stephenie Rossi.”
I smiled sadly. “No, I’m not, which makes me very unimportant in Little Italy.” That and the fact that I’d betrayed my papa. I picked at the loose material of the clean sweats I continued to borrow from Carter. My leggings were destroyed from my jump from the car and my excursion down the mountain.
A contemplative expression softened his lips and the lines around his eyes. He leaned forward, reaching out and taking my hand in his. The warmth of his touch comforted me and I blinked back tears that I was so desperate for my father’s approval, I would take just about anyone’s.
“You’re very important outside of Little Italy, which is a whole lot bigger than you think. Because of you, I won’t have to spend the rest of my life in prison.” He reached up, grazing his knuckles down my cheek as he stared into my eyes. “You need to be comfortable in your decisions. You’re saving my life and a handful of other people’s. There’s only honor in that.”
I studied him like he had answers I couldn’t possibly access. After a moment, I shook my head. “No, there would be honor in it, if I wasn’t betraying my own family. There could be honor in it, if it mattered that my family is trying to change their business model and shift away from illegal things. There might even be some honor in it, if I had come clean with my family and told them what I was doing, but I didn’t. I kept my mouth shut because I was scared. There’s no honor in that.”
“But you’d be dead.” He knitted his eyebrows together. “How could you have honor, if you’re dead?” There were real questions in his eyes that I wasn’t sure I could answer.
Rather than pull away from his touch, I stayed where I was, reveling in the soft, hypnotic stroking up and down my cheek. I stared into his eyes and murmured, “There is a certain honor in death, you know.” It wasn’t a question. Carter had worked with the Rossis. He had to know that some things were worse than death. Living with no honor, even if I was a female, wasn’t the type of life I wanted to live.
“Why do it, then? Why turn your family in?” He dropped his hand from my face, taking my fingers in his and rubbing his thumb across my knuckles, avoiding the tender flesh of my palm.
He asked a question I myself asked every moment of every day. Why?
“Because there’s honor in revenge, too.” I shifted my jaw to the side, more than a little aware that I was baring my soul to a man that may or may not be my enemy in the real world.
“Revenge for what? How has your family wronged you enough to seek vengeance?” His sincerity wound around me, lulled me into talking about the deepest things in my soul.
Taking a deep breath, I finally said out loud what I’d been churning over and over in my head for years. “The Rossi cheated on my mom when I was a kid. My mom was the second wife and she had two children, just like his first wife. He wasn’t faithful then and he wasn’t to my mother either. So, I promised her on her deathbed I would find justice for the Rossis, even if it put me in the same boat.”
I’d stuck to my promise, determined to reveal the Rossi treachery to all of the world. If the Capones and the Bianchis were exposed, too, then so be it. I just couldn’t let an innocent man suffer for my decisions to seek out justice.
And a small whisper asked me how innocent Carter was, if he worked with the Italian families of Little Italy.
Another part of me, the Rossi part, had to acknowledge that the evidence I’d been collecting wouldn’t deliver as much vengeance as I’d hoped. The simple fact that I was betraying Italian famil
ies would be enough to dishonor the Rossi name. That would be betrayal enough.
“I get it. Families can be lethal. At least you have one.” His blue eyes held me like in a trance. “I’m sorry your mom died. I remember the day The Rossi found out. I was in his office, going over some contracts with him and the phone rang. When he answered, he’d been irritated at first and then he’d softened. He’d thanked whoever it was for the call and he’d hung up.” Carter shook his head, sadness in the angles of his face. “He’d asked me to come back the next day, said he needed some privacy. I’d stepped out, but I’d forgotten something and when I went back, I caught a glimpse of Giovanni slumped over the desk, crying into his folded arms. I’ve never seen a man so broken.”
Disbelief warred with the strong desire for what Carter told me to be true. I longed for my father to be the good guy, at least with regards to something in my life. I didn’t care that he broke the law on a regular basis. I just wanted him to be something more than a callous individual who made money off illegal activities.
I blinked back tears, sniffing. With a nod, I offered a slight smile. “Thank you. I needed to hear something like that.” Too bad the truth he’d told me hadn’t come before I’d started collecting my evidence against my father and the rest of the families. It was too late to turn back now.
Instead of changing my course, I would get to long for things I didn’t have the right to as well as the things I did. Carter would be in the former group. My father and mother in the latter.
I could never own how much I was starting to care for him. Not when I could never have him. At the rate we were going, I’d be in prison while he went on to live out his life. Or… I could deny the evidence I’d gathered and he could go to prison and I could live with my family never knowing that I’d started out betraying them.
Why couldn’t we go with the third option? Living in that cabin together on the edge of the world with no way to contact the outside.
Nothing else would make any sense.
Chapter 10
Carter
I smothered a yawn as I turned the page in the book I’d taken up. With no television, computers, or phones out that far from town, there wasn’t a lot to do to entertain ourselves with.
When I’d moved into the cabin, the US Marshal who had helped me get settled had brought out a box of books of all kinds. Until Stephenie had joined me, I’d resisted sitting down and reading to pass the time and usually I would go out and walk, just walk, trying to get a feel for the land and what types of things were out there.
I had no way of knowing if I’d need to be able to get away in a moment.
“Is yours good?” Stephenie drew her knees closer to her side as she lowered the book in her hands. Her feet weren’t far from mine as we faced each other on the couch, each holding a book. She turned the book over and glanced at the cover and wiggled it my way with a taunting curve to her raised eyebrow. “You know, if it’s too boring, you can borrow this romance. I mean, it might teach you something.” Her sassy grin made me groan.
“How do you know I didn’t write that one?” I lowered the political thriller I’d chosen and stared at the cover of hers with the man and woman obviously caught up in the moment.
Stephenie’s laughter filled the cabin and I couldn’t look away from the delight on her face. She shook her head. “You’re Nora Roberts? This little hideaway just got a whole lot more interesting.” She stretched her feet out and nudged my sock-covered toes with hers. “Seriously, how is yours?”
I half-shrugged. “It’s not bad. I’m having a hard time focusing.” That was part of the truth. The other half was that I just wanted to stare at Stephenie with her dark wavy hair and smooth skin.
As if she understood where I was coming from, Stephenie’s humor faded and she stared into my eyes a moment longer than would be considered normal. After a drawn out second, she glanced back at her book and pulled her feet back toward her rear.
Had I missed the moment to talk about us? To talk about our situation? No. I refused to believe that when we had nothing else to do. How was it possible to want to be around this woman who had the power to put me away for life or to do just about anything else she wanted? I couldn’t describe the feelings bombarding me at any given moment around her and I found it offsetting.
While I sat there, trying to strengthen my resolve to ask her what she was thinking, Stephenie lowered the book again and considered me. “What do you think will happen at the trial?” There was worry in her voice and for the first time I realized that I wasn’t the only one affected by what could happen or the results.
I shook my head, leaning over and setting my book I obviously wasn’t reading on the table. Settling back against the armrest I used as a backrest, I folded my arms and continued studying her. “I don’t know. Most of my work is with families. I rarely do criminal proceedings.” Whatever happened, it would be intense and last longer than just a few hours. From what the US Marshal had told me, there were enough charges and evidence being brought forward to shake the foundations of Seattle’s history.
Afternoon light lit up the cabin as it streamed through the windows and reflected off the warm light brown wood floors. When the rain had continued its onslaught throughout the last couple days and nights, I’d demanded Stephenie and I stay in the cabin. The last thing we needed was to get pneumonia when we were so far from civilization. The walk to the nearest town would be a solid fifteen miles. Neither of us was prepared for that.
Stephenie hadn’t fought me, but now as the rains paused and the sun came out, I knew I would have to take her out to check for the bag.
Instead of mentioning the break in the storm, Stephenie sat up and swiveled so her feet rested on the floor and she was more in the center of the couch. She braced her elbows on her knees and folded her arms, hunkered over as if lost in thought.
I followed her actions, taking the spot next to her and nudging her with my shoulder. “Hey, you okay?”
“Are you scared?” She turned her head to look at me, the onyx of her eyes reeling me in. I caught my breath at the thought that this little pixie had captured my imaginings and I didn’t know how to break free.
Clearing my throat, I glanced at my hands clenched between my knees and then back at her. “Will you think less of me, if I say yes?” If I said I wasn’t worried, I’d be lying. There was no real evidence that I wasn’t guilty. My associations with the families of Little Italy implicated me more than anything else. If they went down, I would follow as their lawyer.
Tenderness softened her gaze and she shook her head, a small smile playing about her lips. She raised her hand, trailing her fingertips down the slightly stubbled skin of my cheek. I couldn’t move if I wanted to.
Her voice low and husky, Stephenie’s words barely moved her lips. “You’re beautiful, Carter. Just in case I don’t get to tell you later.” Except, I wasn’t the beautiful one as the full curve of her lower lip quivered.
But she’d stolen my voice. I couldn’t reply which was a first for me. I raised my own hands and turned fully, cradling her face in my fingers as I moved closer, cutting the distance between us.
Pressing my lips to hers, I closed my eyes, noticing hers closed as well. The contact between us was all I wanted to focus on. I didn’t care about the sunlight, the heat, the book that fell from her fingers to make a thud sound as it hit the floor, or the fact that I could be kissing a woman who would send me to prison for life. All I wanted to think about was the fact that she didn’t wait for me to deepen the kiss. She took those reins herself as she pushed toward me, leaning me back with a brazenness I wasn’t familiar with.
We got lost in the kiss and she moved her hands up to unbutton my shirt. I pulled back from her, breaking the kiss and gasping. Blinking, I stared down at her fingers working the button. I shook my head, stopping her attempts by placing my hand on hers. “Wait, Stephenie, what are you doing?”
That’s when I realized she was crying. She raised tear-so
aked eyes to my face and whispered, “I might not survive past the trial. I don’t want to die lonely, you know?” She dropped her gaze again, staring at the collar of my shirt but not fighting me.
I did know, but how did I tell her I could protect her when I couldn’t even protect myself? I pulled her down to rest against my chest, holding her safe in my arms. “I can’t promise you anything about what will happen at the trial, Stephenie, but I can tell you, I’ll keep you safe, here and now.”
After a minute, she pulled back enough to study me, then nodded. “Then let’s do this. There’s no reason we can’t be together, here.” With her kiss-swollen lips and the dark desire in her eyes, I was a fool to shake my head.
Yet, I did and the disappointment on her face spurred me to speak. “Look, I know we’re in a crazy situation. Trust me. I know more than anyone else. I’ve been here for months, bored out of my mind. But I refuse to let this trial define me. I wouldn’t do anything inappropriate with you, if we were out in the world. I certainly am not going to change who I am in the privacy of the woods. You deserve better than that. To be honest, I do as well.”
I wasn’t the type of man to take advantage of a situation. If I were, I’d be waist-deep in the mafia dealings and more. Instead, I chased after what was right and treating Stephenie with absolute respect was the better option.
“Are you doing this to get me to give you the evidence?” Stephenie pulled back from her position on me and slid into the spot on the couch where she’d first been, staring at me with her back against the armrest.
I blinked and sat up, scooting backward again until my mid-back rested on the armrest opposite hers. “Wait, what?” How had we jumped topics like that? I was saying I wanted to respect her, me, and us, and she had twisted it into something that resembled extortion.
She fluttered her hand between us. “Are you turning me down to try to convince me to give you the evidence?” Were those accusations in her eyes?
The Forbidden Mountain Man Page 5