Mr. and Mrs. Rossi

by Carolyn Hector

  “I do,” Harley released the breath she’d been holding. Her lungs burned. “Poor Hannah, she’s not going to take losing him so easily.”

  “Yeah, about that.”

  Whatever Dante was going to add had to wait. Their attention shifted to Cole’s whistle as he approached. The skin over her ribcage ached, Harley turned slightly and realized Dante’s arms embraced her. He wasn’t letting her go. Cole approached with his submachine gun at rest, his hand twisted in front of his throat signaling. Harley understood. They hadn’t found Hannah. Her instinct was to head into the office and search through the paperwork. Cole and Elliott had the same instinct. Tito, propped up by TJ, tried to reach for Cole’s leg. It was too late. The blast happened so fast, deafening the world around her once again.

  Dante threw his body on Harley’s, pinning her against the frame of the car and shielding her from the blast. She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulder. Harley tried to close her eyes against the flying debris. The task team standing by lurched forward. Any shred of evidence blew up into the sky and trickled down in several small fires. Before the flames died down or even the smoke cleared, a speed-boat took off from the marina. Harley couldn’t see but she was willing to bet the vessel carried the Marchette men. She made out four figures before it passed under the causeway in a boat low enough to not need the bridge lifted.

  “I know the guy driving the boat,” said a deep voice behind her.

  Harley spun around to a familiar face. Her dark eyes narrowed. “Jose?”

  Jose Torres, Julio’s older brother reached down, extracted her from Dante’s arms, and pulled her into a bear hug.

  “Watch out for her ribs,” Dante warned, hovering like a parent.

  Harley pulled back and immediately avoided his handsome smile. The Torres men certainly had been blessed in the looks department. Julio and Roman stood against the half standing wall to the office, talking. Julio stopped the conversation and winked. Eighteen years ago her heart would have done a flip. Today, nothing. She reached down and squeezed Dante’s hand, delighted to have someone by her side willing to walk through fire for her.

  “I’m okay, Dante,” she said reassuringly. She’d meant to reassure him and have him leave. He didn’t. “Jose, it’s been a long time.”

  “Too long,” Jose tipped the bridge of her nose with his finger then placed his hands on his hips as he evaluated the damage. The gold star of his Marshal’s badge attached to his belt caught the sun’s ray.

  “You’re the Marshal working with Javier?” Jenny kept her updated with the gossip. Jose left for the military, despite his parent’s wishes and joined the Marshal Service. Villa San Juan, being wedged between Alabama, Louisiana and Florida had become home to one of the office branches.

  “I plan on helping if he could locate my,” he stopped and took a deep breath, “Hannah.”

  “We’ll find her,” Dante rubbed Harley’s back in a circular motion.

  With all the chaos surrounding her, Harley appreciated Dante’s comforting touch. A pounding sound went off in her head. Her eyes searched the area. Something wasn’t right. More pounding. Was this it? Was she about to have a heart attack or an aneurism at least?

  To make matters worse, Julio came over, clasping his hand with Jose’s, then reached out to touch Harley’s other shoulder. “I’ve just learned from my friends at the Coast Guard. They’ve stopped the ship trying to come in but nothing’s been found. A few other ships turned around in the Gulf but they’re chasing them down now. So far there’s no sign of the girls in the water. We’re checking all the containers now.”

  Another task team drove down into the quarry. Men and women decked out in desert camouflage clung to the back of five jeeps and drove down through the crates starting with the ones in the back. Harley didn’t question them, glad there were people working and glad the hostile interaction between Dante and Julio ceased. They were all here for one reason.

  The pounding started. Harley’s knees weakened and she fell against Dante’s back.

  “Sit down,” he ordered, dragging her to what was left of the limo’s seat and knelt before her. “You may have a concussion. Where are you hurting?”

  “My head,” Harley touched her head but failed to pinpoint the pounding. She tapped her ears.

  “We need to take you to a real doctor,” Julio said peering over Dante’s shoulder.

  “What the fuck do you mean a real doctor?” Dante growled over his shoulder, “I patched her up just fine.”

  “Key word patched, this isn’t a time of war,” Julio snorted and extended his hand.

  Dante returned the snort. “Where were you when those body armor piercing bullets were flying through the air? Do you think this car came from the junk yard?”

  “Harley, let me take you to the hospital. They’ll bring Hannah to us.”

  “Dude, seriously?”

  The annoyance registering in Dante’s voice signaled the start of World War D. She thought it best to lay a gentle hand on Dante’s shoulder. “We’re just fine, Julio, thank you though.”

  The day had come where she rejected Julio. Not out of spite but because she was no longer interested. She wasn’t sure what path she and Dante were headed on, all she knew was she wanted to be on his path. Julio opened his mouth to speak or argue but Jose patted his arm, wisely, the brothers moved on to Javier.

  “If Javier gets his way, he’s going to need to testify against Marchette.”

  “I should have shot him,” Harley looked down at Dante’s knees. “I had the shot.”

  “But you saved Tito and I’m pretty sure he’s happy about it.”

  With the jeeps out of earshot, the pounding became clearer. She locked eyes with Dante’s. The corners of his eyes crinkled with curiosity. “Tell me you heard that noise?”

  “What?”

  Harley stood between Dante’s legs and craned her ear toward the sound. A faint pounding started again. She took a step forward. Dante tried to stop her but he couldn’t. The pounding in her heart wouldn’t stop. Neither would the pounding she heard. She had to figure out where it was coming from. Carefully she walked in the spots on the ground not cluttered with glass, blood or dead men around to the backside of the office. Secluded from the rest of the cargo, a rust colored crate eight feet tall and about twenty feet long stood behind the office. The way the road came around on the hill, it would have been impossible to spot it right off. The banging grew louder. Inside, girls’ screams grew stronger. Harley’s heart began to race.

  The tears threatening earlier reappeared. She wasn’t sure she could take another step. Hannah was in there. She felt it in her bones. Chills spread up and down her arms. Dante came up beside her, wrapping one arm around her waist and pulling her other arm over his shoulder. He tried to lift her but she shook her head, wanting to run. With her feet torn up she hobbled closer, faster. From inside the container she heard Hannah’s voice.

  Dante signaled for someone to come and cut the lock to the doors. Someone started cutting the doors with orange handled bolt cutters. As each bolt was cut, Harley felt her heart leap closer out of her chest. Dante squeezed the nape of her neck with each cut. Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, the doors opened and leading the pack of a dozen pale faced young women was none other than Hannah Tomasello.

  Harley allowed the sob to come out. Her knees buckled and she fell to the ground. Hannah ran to her, her eye still swollen from her run-in at the jail, and fell down in front of her. Their tears fell unabashedly.

  “I’m so sorry!” Hannah cried over and over. “I trusted Mr. Baez.”

  “It’s okay,” Harley cooed, “it’s okay. You’re safe now.”

  “Hannah?”

  The duo turned, still hugging. Javier looked worse for the wear. Dark circles planted under his eyes. It had only been a few days since she’d seen him but he looked tired and thinner. Hannah used Harley as a support board to help stand up. Once on her own two feet she took off for Javier’s waiting arms.


  Dante reached down and extended his hand. “Those two are in love.”

  “Must be nice,” Harley hummed, allowing Dante to tuck her underneath the crook of his arm. “Thanks for coming.”

  “Did you think I wouldn’t?”

  Harley inhaled deeply, “That’s right, Marchette.”

  “Let’s not twist this,” Dante pulled her from his side, braced his hands on her shoulders and forced her to face him. The agents around them went to help each girl. The Undesirables, as Harley had come to know them, picked up left over machinery from the ground. “I came to get Marchette, I stayed for you.”

  “Dante, I,” she searched for the words to begin to apologize.

  “Listen, I didn’t expect to find you here when I arrived. All I know is when you stepped out of that limo, covered in blood—.”

  “It wasn’t mine, I disarmed Bobby’s guard.”

  Dante shook his head, his lopsided smile filled her heart. “That’s what I love about you. You’re such a badass.”

  “Love?” She realized she had no idea about love at fifteen. Puppy love maybe, she thought to herself. She spent a year loving him and a year getting over him. She’d hardened her heart all these years, protecting herself from love. And in a matter of days, Dante broke through her exterior bringing her to levels she never experienced before. She smiled and batted her lashes.

  “Don’t go all soft on me,” he shrugged, “let’s just say for lack of a better word. I mean, if you’re gonna get all girly on me.”

  Playfully she went to swipe at him with her hand but he turned his shoulders away from her. His T-shirt shredded and exposed bloodied skin filled with charred debris. “Oh my God! You practically took a bullet for me!”

  Dante turned back around, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her up against him. “More like a bomb, but whatever. I think you can repay me by giving me at least a week’s time without you disappearing on me.”

  “Well,” Harley smiled, “we never had a honeymoon.”

  “Hell, let’s get started right now.” Dante balanced her with his right arm and fiddled with something in his pocket. The next minute she was being handcuffed, his left to her right.

  “What in the hell?”

  “Yeah, I’m not taking any chances on you giving me the slip ever again.”

  ****

  Five months later Dante walked out of Harley’s shower using the towel for his body to dry the back of his head. “It was a really disappointing shower I took there,” he said looking at Harley’s long legs cushioned on top of her mattress. She wore a purple bra and panty set. He didn’t need to see if the back was a thong or not, he was already to go another round with her.

  Harley looked up from the screen, the blue of whatever she was looking at lit up her face. “Are you done already?”

  “We can go again?” He stood in the doorway of the bathroom. “Ready?”

  “Just a minute, come here.”

  Dante threw the white terrycloth towel to the floor, “You sure you want to get these sheets wet?” he inclined his head toward the three sets of sheets crumpled to the floor they’d already gone through. The last five months couldn’t have gone any better between them. He knew when he’d spotted Harley at Chet’s bar there was something special about her—not just the fact he needed her phone to verify Leonardo’s location. Once again Leonardo’s father whisked him away to an unknown location. Dante let his lifelong mission to bury Leonardo aside. The powers that be at the Special Tasks Bureau were so intrigued with the camaraderie between him and Harley, they put them together on various assignments together when the time called. Every mission was a honeymoon for them. It wasn’t hard to act like a couple in love, they were.

  “Did you find another secure line to talk to Hannah?” he asked, climbing into the bed with her. Her soft shoulder twitched from the water dripping from his body. “You know that goes completely against policy, right?”

  “Please, Elliott was the one who gave me the connection.”

  The last thing Hannah and Javier were able to do before going into Witsec was to have an impromptu wedding. No one told her of her biological parents and her father, Anthony Tomasello, gave her away at the courthouse.

  “Okay then,” he kissed the spot on her shoulders where there was a droplet of water. “What do you want to show me?” Harley turned her iPad toward him. The blue and green screen blinded him briefly. “Okay, what am I looking at?”

  “My wedding gift to you,” Harley grinned, she looked at him with her long lashes. His heart swelled.

  “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

  “Sure I did, can you guess where this is?”

  “I have no idea.”

  Harley leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Well, I have it on good authority the person picked up on the Facial Recognition System is none other than Leonardo Marchette. His father sent him to a place with no extradition, ya know.”

  “Of course.”

  “Well, since STB doesn’t really exist in the government’s eyes,” she wiggled her eyebrows at him. Dante got the point. He took the iPad and pushed it to the floor. Harley gave a squeal of delight when he flipped her over onto her backside.

  “When do we leave?”

  “Wheels up at oh-five-hundred.”

  The digital alarm clock on the side of the bed had been flashing since it was accidently unplugged when it was unintentionally knocked over. According to it, they had a few more hours. Dante raised himself to his elbows. “Have I told you I love you today?”

  Harley batted her lashes again, “Yes, but I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing it. I love you, Dante.”

  “I love you too, Mrs. Tomasello-Rossi.”

  A word about the author...

  Where most people try to find the good in every situation, Carolyn finds the romance.

  She began writing at an early age, scripts for her Barbie Dolls and then a rewrite of a movie when she did not like the ending. After watching Romancing the Stone for the first time, she realized what she wanted to do in life—become a romance writer.

  She is the proud mother of two and has magically survived almost twenty years of marriage. She currently lives in Tallahassee, Florida, where there is never a dull moment with politicians, football, and southern heat.

  Thank you for purchasing

  this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.