Dirty Lies Page 25

"That's for damn sure," the chief said. "Anyway, you're free to go. We're not going to charge you. You hit her in self-defense. Hell, you would have been justified in shooting her.”

  I thanked him and shook his hand again. I wasn't about to ask why I wasn't being charged for possession of the weapon, or why I wasn't being questioned about my potential ties to Gianni.

  Florida was such a strange place. And although part of me wanted Annalisa dead, Skylar had been right. Retribution, violence, vigilante justice—they were all things I abhorred. In my darkest moment, poised to kill another human being, Skylar had forced me to be a better man. Once again. To stay true to what was in my heart.

  I loved her for that. And for a million other reasons. I needed to tell her. If she was well enough to listen. If she even wanted me anymore. All I could think of was the hurt in Skylar's eyes when Annalisa forced me to reveal what a dick I’d been.

  Zombie-like, I followed Federico out of the police station and into the parking lot. Federico smiled grimly and clapped me on the back.

  "Did I ever mention I donated bulletproof vests to the Palmira Police Department? I even donated vests for their police dogs."

  I snorted a laugh as I opened the passenger door of the Mercedes. While I'd before suspected my uncle's business and political dealings danced on the razor-thin edge of unethical behavior, in that moment, I was grateful for his savvy.

  He slid into the driver's seat and looked at me expectantly. "Where to?"

  "Federico, I owe you an apology. And a thank you."

  My eyes searched the older man's face, looking for anger or annoyance. I didn't find anything but kindness. Maybe Skylar was right. I should get to know this man. My father.

  "No, Luca, you don't owe me anything. You've been through too much. It's a fucked up situation, our family. As is this episode with the girl from Italy. We'll talk about it later. Let's just try to move forward, okay? Unless you're going to leave, and then we can part as friends."

  I shook my head. "If it's okay with you, I'd like to stay here on Palmira. At least until Bruno's trial is over. Maybe longer. And I need to go to the hospital now."

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  The Only Choice Is You

  SKYLAR

  SKYLAR

  I felt his kisses on my hand and arm before I opened my eyes. I stretched, hoping to wrap my arms around Luca, then felt stiff, achy and…oww.

  Pain. In my shoulder and down my arm.

  "Amore mio," Luca whispered, kissing the back of my unhurt hand, then my palm, then my wrist. "Amore mio."

  I didn't say anything, just looked groggily around the hospital room. It was half-dark, and a machine behind me beeped.

  Luca's face registered concern. "Can you speak? Are you okay? Do you need anything?"

  "I'm…in pain. But yeah. I can speak. What…? Where…?"

  "Shhh, Sky. You're safe. We're safe."

  "I'm really tired," I murmured.

  "It's the drugs. Just go back to sleep."

  "But," I said, struggling to keep my eyes open, "are you leaving?"

  Luca moved forward and brushed his lips over mine. "No. I'm not. I'm yours. I love you. As long as you want me, I'm yours."

  "What if that's forever?" Had I thought that or said it aloud? My brain was so foggy.

  He kissed me again. "That's what I'm hoping."

  I smiled and closed my eyes. Then opened them again to see Luca staring at me, concerned.

  "Luca?"

  "Yes, amore mio?"

  "You're everything I once thought I didn't want. Or didn't need. But now you're everything I need and the only thing I want."

  I slipped back into a deep sleep.

  * * *

  My mind was clearer the next time I woke up. Emily sat in a nearby chair, reading a magazine, and her eyes got wide when I grunted.

  "Dude, you're awake!" I moved to the edge of the bed, breathless. "How do you feel? You were stabbed!"

  I grimaced. "How do I…? Wait. Help me sit up."

  "Don't move. Here." Emily pressed a button on the side of the bed and shifted me into a sitting position.

  "Thanks. That's better. I feel okay, actually. How long have I been here? Been asleep?" I glanced down at the injured shoulder. A thick bandage covered the skin, and I couldn't move my right arm much at all. How was I going to type and work? Little pinpricks blossomed on the skin under the dressing and I wanted to dig my fingers into my flesh and scratch.

  "Let's see. Everything happened Saturday afternoon, and it was now Sunday afternoon. You had surgery to repair the tendon in your shoulder, then they stitched you up. Fed you some good drugs. Oh, and I gave you blood."

  "Huh?" I shook my head, bewildered. It seemed as if every time someone spoke, a new weird detail was revealed. Luca had said something surprising at some point overnight, although I couldn't remember exactly what.

  Emily shrugged, as if she’d casually offered to pick up a night shift at the paper for me. “They were low here at the hospital, so I donated a pint to you."

  Tears welled in my eyes. "Thanks, Em," I whispered, reaching out to grasp my friend's hand. It might have been the kindest thing anyone had ever done for me.

  "No problem, dude." Emily squeezed my good hand. "We're blood sisters now."

  A wave of fear surged through my body as I looked around, panicked and stiff. "Where's Luca?"

  "He's out harassing the nurses. They brought you eggs and toast, but you were asleep. He wanted you to have fresh fruit and oatmeal, because he knows that's what you like. He's a little bossy, did you know that? But God, so sexy. Protective too. He hasn't left your side since the cops let him go."

  "Oh God." The cops. I groaned. "Luca wasn't charged with anything, was he?" I recalled the horrible sound of the gun hitting Annalisa's skull and shivered.

  Emily shook her head. "Nope."

  "And Annalisa?" I shuddered as I said the woman's name. "Is she alive?"

  "Yeah, Jimmy said Annalisa was checked out by a doctor. Luca didn't hurt her too bad, just knocked her out apparently. She's being charged with murder, home invasion, and attempted murder. She's in the hospital ward at the jail over in Fort Myers."

  I let out a long, thin breath. "I feel a little sorry for her."

  Emily scowled. "Why? She tried to kill you."

  "I know. I mean, I don't want to be friends with her or anything. I hope she's locked up forever. But she needs help. She just seemed so pathetic."

  At that moment, Luca entered carrying a tray. "Who's pathetic?" he asked.

  "Look who's awake," Emily said quickly, letting go of my hand.

  Luca set the tray of food on a table near the bed, then kissed my forehead and sat. His gaze was fearful, concerned. He put his hand on my forehead, as if he was monitoring my temperature, then brushed my hair away from my face.

  Emily rose from the bed, grinning. "Okay, I'm gonna let you lovebirds get it on here in the hospital. I need to get back to the paper. I'll tell everyone you said hi."

  "Wait. Em?" I tried to reach my arm toward her, but was stopped by the IV, which poked uncomfortably into the crook of my arm. "What's going on at the paper? What does Jill think about all of this? Did we write a story?"

  Emily nodded. "We did. Front page. But we didn't put your names in it. They said you both were victims of a domestic stalking and that's why they left it out. The article focused on Annalisa's murder charge anyway. That's much sexier. You know, if it bleeds, it leads." Emily winked. "Oh, and guess what? Jill and Federico were spotted at breakfast together this morning."

  "What?" I yelped, and struggled again to sit up. Luca shushed me, settling me back against the pillows.

  "Luca will fill you in," Emily said. "I gotta go."

  "Bye, Em."

  Luca pulled the table on wheels close to the bed and fiddled with poking a straw through a foil-covered juice container. "Amore mio, you need to get something in your stomach."

  When he held the container and straw up to my mouth, I let o
ut an exasperated sigh. "Luca, I can feed myself. My shoulder was sliced open, my arms weren't cut off. Tell me about Federico and Jill."

  "In a minute. Open your beautiful mouth."

  I smiled and did, my eyes meeting his. I put my lips around the straw and sucked in the cool liquid. Somehow, even though it wasn't fresh-squeezed or organic, it tasted delicious.

  "Jill and Federico did go to breakfast this morning. I can't tell if it was just a business thing or what. I sensed something between them. They came to the hospital together. Jill's happy you're not dead. She joked about how she's glad she doesn't have to hire another reporter."

  I laughed and noticed he'd only mustered a small smile. "What?" I asked, handing him the cup.

  He leaned forward to brush my lips with his. I closed my eyes and shivered a little from the feeling, but when I opened them, he was frowning.

  "Sky. I'm…I'm so sorry. I feel so much guilt about not telling you my secret earlier. Maybe if I had, you would have wisely stayed away from me and we wouldn't be here now."

  "No." I shook my head and tried to sit up straighter, fumbling for the pillow that had wedged uncomfortably in the small of my back. I leaned forward, and without me asking, Luca adjusted it. "I wouldn't have stayed away from you. Don't you understand? I couldn't stay away from you."

  He sighed. "And I couldn't stay away from you. But it would have been better if I had."

  "You don't have to apologize," I said in a quiet voice.

  "I don't think I'll ever stop apologizing. I'm sorry you had to hear all of that between me and Annalisa. I told you I wasn't an angel." He drew in a breath and opened a fruit cup. "Can I persuade you to eat a little?"

  I shrugged, then opened my mouth, wanting to please him. He seemed so concerned. He fed me two apple slices, then grapes, and I chewed in silence. Finally, he spoke.

  "Federico, Jill and I have talked about increasing security for you at the paper, and for us at home. But we'll discuss that later, when you're better."

  "Wait. Us? 'At home'?" I reached for the fruit cup.

  Luca took it from my hand. He speared a banana slice with a fork. "The doctors said you'll be getting out soon, maybe tomorrow morning. They just want to make sure there's no infection in the cut. I'm bringing you back to our house to recover. Federico's hiring bodyguards and drivers for us. It's going to be a little delicate when you go cover stories, but we'll figure it out."

  "Bodyguards?" I looked at him, alarmed. "Why?"

  Luca sighed. "We all agreed it's for the best, at least until Bruno Castiglione's trial is over. Who knows if he'll try to send someone else here. Until we can talk to the Italian consulate and international authorities, we're not taking chances. There's someone…" he pointed with the fork, "outside the door of this hospital room right now."

  "But…but," I stammered, reeling at the idea of a bodyguard just steps away. "We? Us? Why are you making all these plans? Are you definitely not leaving Palmira?"

  "No. I told you in the middle of the night, but you were half asleep. I'm not leaving. I'm staying to write my book. And most of all, I'm staying for you. For us. I'm with you for as long as you want me. I hope that's forever. I hope you can forgive me for everything."

  I stared at him, my mouth open.

  "You need to eat." He popped another banana slice between my lips, and I chewed. That's when I began to cry, unable to contain all the feelings. I swallowed and cried harder. It was as if all the emotions inside of me—about my mother, about how James treated me, Luca, the attack—poured out all at once. I'd never felt such a massive rush of sadness. Or relief. Not after my mother died, not after I broke up with James, not ever.

  Luca set the fork down, then hugged me gingerly. I didn't move much because of all the tubes. He leaned to kiss me further, and eventually, my crying stopped.

  "It's all going to be okay, amore mio. We've got no more secrets."

  Through my tears, I eyed him. "Why would you want me when you've had all those other women? You could just keep traveling and screwing—"

  "No." He wiped my tears away with his fingers, then found a napkin and blotted my cheeks. "No. I'm sick of traveling. I'm sick of empty, meaningless flings. Being with you makes me happier than I've ever been in my life. Being with you makes me a better man, Skylar. It's you. Don't you see? I found you when I needed you the most. We found each other."

  I shuddered in a breath. "When we were at my house with Annalisa, for a second, I thought you were still in love with her. I thought you were going to choose her over me. I thought—"

  "Please don't ever think that," he interrupted. "I can't believe you had to go through that because of me. I'll never forgive myself for what she did to you, or for putting you in that situation. For saying all those things in front of you. Will you let me prove to you how much I love you? Will you let me protect you? Please trust me when I say I'm a different man than I was in Italy."

  I sniffled and nodded. "Yes. I do trust you. I love you."

  He stroked my hair. "You're my only choice, Skylar. You're my now, and my future. I love you too."

  Epilogue

  Three years later...

  LUCA

  "Amore…e hora di cenare! Time for dinner!"

  I stood on the balcony of the log cabin in the mountains of western North Carolina and called out to Skylar. It was the first real long vacation we'd taken in our three years together, and we wanted to get away from the beach and palm trees and immerse ourselves in cold weather and mountains for New Year's Eve.

  Skylar waved at me as she ran toward the cabin, followed by Pucci, our shaggy rescue mutt. I laughed when Pucci jumped like a rabbit through the ankle-deep snow. The dog adored Skylar.

  I loved watching the two of them play while the snow fell in big, fat flakes.

  I poured two glasses of champagne as Skylar and Pucci bounded inside and up the cabin stairs, then flipped the knob on the stove to the off position and covered the simmering tomato sauce.

  "Baby, it feels so amazing here. The air is crisp, not swampy and humid like in Florida."

  Skylar's pink cheeks practically matched the hue of the fuzzy earmuffs she pulled off her head. Standing near the top of the stairs, she unzipped her fleece jacket. My eyes went to her breasts, which looked full and sexy in her tight, white sweater, and she turned and bent over to undo the laces on her boots, giving me a full view of her delicious ass in tight jeans, reminding me that even after three years of living together, I still got a charge every time I thought about running my hands over her curvy body.

  For months, she'd been self-conscious of her shoulder, largely because of the scar near her collarbone. But we'd found a good plastic surgeon and now it was barely visible.

  The dog shook the snow off his tawny fur and settled with a sigh near the crackling flames in the hearth.

  "Sky, come over by the fireplace," I called. "Vieni qui." I tried to speak in Italian more because she was trying to learn my language. Sitting on the carpet near the dog, I grinned as Skylar joined me, kneeling down while finger-brushing her long, snow-dampened hair.

  "Brrr. I'm not used to cold weather anymore. Every part of me is cold. But I love it. I just need you to warm me up."

  Handing her a glass of champagne, I kissed her, then rubbed my nose against hers. "Warming you up is my job."

  She giggled and kissed me again. "Cento anni.” The way she spoke Italian was adorable. We clinked glasses and sipped.

  "Maybe we should think about buying something here. The book is doing so well, we could take the money from that…" I suggested.

  She grinned and raised her glass. "To the New York Times bestseller list."

  "To beautiful reporters with great ideas."

  I'd followed Skylar's suggestion to go public with my story. Instead of the book about the second Mafia boss, I'd written an autobiography about my parents' deaths and the years afterward. Just like she'd predicted, Americans loved a good secret. My story had not only garnered support from pres
s freedom organizations around the world, but had sold like crazy. I touched my glass lightly to hers again and leaned in for another kiss.

  I also no longer felt like a hunted animal. Because of the worldwide support, I was more confident about living a safe and normal life.

  Bruno Castiglione was convicted of all ten counts of murder and twenty of racketeering in Italy, sending him to prison for life, partly because Annalisa testified against him and had surreptitiously recorded their conversations with her phone. She'd testified against her cousin, she said in court, because she still loved me. Fortunately, she was also behind bars, though in a Florida prison, having pled guilty to Gianni's murder.

  Those outcomes had emboldened me to be hopeful for the future. Sure, I still wanted security for a while longer, maybe for the foreseeable future. Federico insisted on it, anyway. Even now, as we vacationed in luxury in a gated Smoky Mountain enclave, an armed bodyguard sat in the driveway.

  I'd forged a tentative, solid relationship with Federico—although I hadn't quite gotten to the point where I called the man Papa or Dad. Federico didn't seem to mind, though. He seemed happy just to have Skylar and me in his life. We all socialized regularly, and were relieved when he decided not to run for governor. We mostly saw him in Palmira, because he and Jill were dating. At first, Skylar had felt odd about having such a personal connection to her boss, but Jill had slowly become something of a mother figure, even encouraging her to apply for jobs at bigger newspapers.

  Skylar leaned close to kiss me deep. "Yum," she whispered. "I'm glad we could take these two weeks before I start at The Herald. We really needed this. We still have so much so do, though, with the move to Miami, I feel a little guilty for taking such a long vacation."

  I shook my head. She was such a workaholic sometimes, but I loved her drive. It inspired me to want to do more, work harder, be a better man. "No, you needed a break. I want you to be completely rested when you get to the Miami paper."

  "Amore mio, close your eyes. I have a surprise."