by L. D. Davis
Absolution
The Disenchanted Series
Book Three
By L.D. Davis
Copyright © 2020 L.D. Davis
All Rights Reserved
All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, businesses, and events are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Cover design by Focus4Media. Editing by Leddy Harper.
Dear Everyone,
It Will Be Okay.
April 2020
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
Epilogue
Chapter One
Marco
Twenty Years Ago
“Agnello di Dio, che togli i peccati del mondo, abbi pietà di noi. Agnello di Dio, che togli i peccati del mondo, abbi pietà di noi. Agnello di Dio, che togli i peccati del mondo, dona a noi la pace.”
I recited the words easily, even though I wasn’t facing the priest. My head was turned to the right so I could see the pew two back from mine on the other side of the aisle. She caught me looking again. Her pink lips curved just the slightest to show her amusement. A light slap to the back of my head made me face forward again. It was the third, maybe fourth time my mother had to force me to pay attention as if I were still a little boy.
“O Signore, non son degno di partecipare alla tua mensa, ma dì soltanto una parola e io sarò salvato.”
It was somewhat gratifying to know that out of my five siblings, I was not the only one who did not get up to receive communion. Massimo, Francesca, and my cousin Paolo all remained in their pew. Like me, they had already given their confessions. I returned my gaze to the girl behind me. She must’ve known I watched her because she gave a valiant attempt not to meet my eyes. That little quirk of her lips was there, though. She was my greatest sin. Since she was still seated as well, I assumed I was hers.
As the communion went on, my mind wandered. Too often, it wandered back to Thursday afternoon, the reason I had found myself confessing to the priest. I knew it was wrong to think of her soft skin under my hands while I sat in mass. At this rate, I’d be in confession constantly, but I couldn’t help myself, not when it came to Celia Valecci. It was a good thing we would be married in another month. Guiltless sex.
I smirked and turned back to her again, but she was already looking my way. It took me about half a second to realize her intense stare and slight smile were not for me. I followed her line of sight to the two men in front of me, my brother and Paolo. Massimo glanced over his shoulder as if he felt her stare. When he regarded her for several seconds too long, my eyes narrowed, but when I turned those narrowed eyes on Celia, she was already facing the front again, expression blank. For a moment, my gaze bounced back and forth between my brother and my fiancée, wondering if I had missed something. When neither of them paid the other any further attention, I dismissed the dark thoughts that had begun to creep into my mind.
Resisting the urge to turn around and make cartoonish heart-shaped eyes at Celia, I tried to focus on something else—or, in this case, someone else. Tessa Mavros and her family sat one row ahead of mine across the aisle. She and Francesca were the same age and had gone through school together, but Tess and Massimo had been best friends for as long as I could remember. Her family was frequently at our home, and my parents and siblings loved her like a daughter and sister. Sadly, she and her family were moving back to her father’s hometown in Greece in a few weeks, which explained the flash of grief on Tess’s face while she looked across the aisle at Massimo. In only a couple of seconds, I saw how raw her pain was. I understood. She was going to miss her closest friend, and he was going to miss her. We all were.
Tessa glanced away without ever realizing she’d had an observer, and I gave up the fight and went back to making eyes with Celia. She and I were best friends once upon a time, too, but unlike my brother and his best friend, Celia and I had fallen in love. It just seemed like the natural progression for us to take the next step into marriage. My parents weren’t thrilled. My mother had been sixteen when she married, a whole year younger than Celia. My father had been eighteen like me, yet they thought we were marrying too early. We weren’t dissuaded from our course of action, though. My parents had been married for almost twenty-five years, and by all appearances, had a healthy, stable relationship. In fact, they were pregnant again—sixteen years after their last child—and delighted about it. They definitely had a wonderful relationship, and it would be the same for Celia and me. I just knew it.
After Mass, many lingered outside the church. Maria, not one for socializing, was already gone. Francesca and my parents stood with several others, speaking with Father Ricci. I steered clear of that group to avoid any knowing looks from the priest regarding my confession. It was bad enough that my mother had glared at me, Massimo, and Francesca before she’d stood to receive communion. I stared down the boy talking to my youngest sister, Martina but didn’t stop to separate them. Instead, I searched for my fiancée, eager to take her hand and lead her somewhere hidden so I’d have yet another confession for Father Ricci in a week. Usually, she was outside as well, either with her mother or with friends, but I didn’t see her.
When Tessa came out of the church behind her parents and little brother, I approached her. “Is Celia still inside?”
“No, or at least not that I saw. She isn’t out here?”
Glancing around, I shook my head. “No.”
“Where’s Massimo?”
That was a good question. Typically, my brother was also outside, chatting with one of his many admirers—or with Tess.
I shrugged. “Maybe he left with Maria.”
Tess’s gaze lingered on me for a moment, but she turned away with a shrug of her own. “Yeah. Maybe.”
It seemed that she had wanted to say something else but changed her mind. I opened my mouth to ask her about it but was interrupted by a few of my brother’s groupies. They were all very pretty, though dressed a little too provocatively for church with breasts aplenty on display.
“Have you seen your brother?” the one named…Gina…Tina…whatever asked.
I shook my head. “No, sorry.”
They all pouted as one. I expected them to leave then, but they didn’t.
“You look good today, Marcello,” Gina, Tina, whatever said, studying me.
“You do,” one of the other G
inas or Tinas said with a purr. “I never noticed how cute you are.”
I blinked. “Umm…”
“Why don’t you come out tonight with your brother?” Gina-Tina Number Three asked, touching my arm.
Again, I blinked and pushed my glasses up my nose. “Umm. I…I guess?”
“You’re so cute. Isn’t he cute?” Gina-Tina Number Two asked no one in particular.
“We’re going dancing, so dress for the occasion, okay?” Number Three said.
The three simpered, waved, and pranced away. Number One turned around once more with another wriggle of her fingers before turning back to her friends, all three giggling as they went.
I stared after them, baffled and red in the face. I wasn’t one of those people completely unaware of my attractiveness, but it wasn’t something I fixated on. After all, I resembled my brother, who was an attractive man, but I wasn’t like Massimo. He thrived under the attention given to him by the opposite sex. He was very flirtatious. I’d witnessed him charm females of all ages, from toddlers to geriatrics. There was never a shortage of fans for him, and not just women. Men too. As my father once said, “Massimo has a friend in every corner of Europe. Some of them don’t even know it yet until they meet him.” That could not be truer. Once, on a family vacation to Greece, by the end of our first full day, Massimo had collected about a dozen new friends, and the number only grew from there.
No, I certainly was not like my brother. I admired him and the life he led, and I loved to hear his stories, but I was not like him. I wasn’t gregarious with his magnetic pull. I stayed on the sidelines during large social functions and preferred quiet, constructive activities. I had very few friends. As one could probably surmise from my brief encounter a moment ago, I was not a smooth operator when it came to the ladies. If it was not for the fact that I’d always known Celia, I most likely wouldn’t even have a girlfriend, let alone a betrothed.
“Nice, Don Juan,” Tessa muttered, watching the girls go.
“That was awkward.”
She refocused on me with a slight lift of her lips. “And it was awkward to watch.”
I studied her face. Tessa was a real beauty. A heavy, dark mane of hair, big brown eyes, with a full figure she tried to hide. Even I appreciated her body, but more than that, I loved her mind and her smile. Lately, she hadn’t been smiling much at all. The impending move was enough to stress anyone in her position. Still, Tess was usually tough as rocks, able to laugh her way through anything. I thought maybe there was something else going on that I was unaware of, but I didn’t know what questions to ask to find out, and chances were, she wouldn’t tell me anyway. She was like one of my sisters, but her best friend, the one she confided all to, would always be Massimo.
“It is nice to see you happy again.”
She shifted uncomfortably as her grin all but disappeared. “I don’t know how to respond to that. Do I say thank you? Or do I break down and cry on your shoulder? Or do I just tell you to fuck off?”
“You can do all three if you like. You don’t have to move, do you? You don’t have to go with your family. You can stay with us.”
This time the lift of her lips was sad. “Your mom and Francesca extended the invitation as well, but I have to think about it. It all depends on…” She trailed off as something caught her eye beyond me.
I peered over my shoulder. At first, I thought she was watching my cousin Paolo, but then I saw Massimo a few paces behind him as he strode away from the church several yards away. He must’ve been inside somewhere and exited through another door, which meant he’d probably been somewhere he shouldn’t be, and with someone he shouldn’t be with. Typical. Tessa and I watched as he stopped to charm la Signora Costa, a widow almost four times Massimo’s age.
“Your brother could charm a snake out of its skin,” Tessa said on a sigh.
I turned my attention back to her. “What were you going to say? It depends on what?”
Again, her gaze strayed, this time away from Massimo and back in the direction he’d come from, and again, I followed her line of sight. This time, it was Celia making her way out of the church.
Something in my gut twisted. I was not a distrustful person, but my mind was fast to jump to its own conclusions. Perhaps it hadn’t been a coincidence that both my girlfriend and my brother had magically disappeared and reappeared about the same time. My eyes swung to Massimo, who looked at ease as he kissed the old widow’s saggy cheeks, and back to Celia, who appeared flustered. Even from where I stood, I saw her pinkened cheeks and the distracted expression on her face. Her pace slowed, and her eyes seemed to linger on Massimo. After bumping into someone and apologizing, she finally looked around as if searching for someone. When her eyes met mine, she grinned and immediately started toward us.
All kinds of questions and accusations rolled through my mind. As a confusing mix of emotions began to rise rapidly inside me, the door Celia and Massimo presumably came through opened. Three of Massimo’s friends tumbled out laughing. Immediately, I began to calm, piecing it all together. Those friends, in particular, were always in one kind of mess or another. The most likely scenario was that they’d all been in there together, up to no good, and Celia had just accidentally gotten caught up in it. It happens.
I allowed myself to relax and smiled widely for my bride-to-be. When she reached me, I took her hand and kissed her cheek. I would have done more, but we were standing practically on the threshold of a holy place.
“I was looking for you.”
Her eyes rolled with mild irritation. “I’m sorry. I had to use the restroom long before Mass was over, and there was a line. On my way out, I ran into your brother’s crazy friends who were up to no good.”
“I thought it was something like that.”
I wanted to put an arm around her waist and hold her close to me. However, despite our upcoming wedding, displays of public affection were still rather awkward for us. Even alone, we had some awkwardness. We’d only been in a romantic relationship with each other for about six months. We were still getting used to each other in that way, but I enjoyed every second of it.
“Thought what was something like what?” Massimo appeared in our small circle, his arm brushing against Tess’s as he stood beside her.
“I was telling your brother how your friends delayed me with their nonsense.”
Massimo cringed. “Yes, that happens to me a lot.”
“Except you’re usually involved with said nonsense,” I pointed out.
He nodded and grinned. “This is true, brother. Why are we all standing around? Let’s go home and eat. I’m starving.”
Massimo reached for Tessa’s arm, as he often did, to steer her wherever he wanted. Most of the time, she gladly followed, but this time, she pulled away and took a step back.
“I’m not coming.” Her expression was apologetic, but her voice…not so much.
My brother stared at her for a moment, his mouth open with surprise. “What do you mean you’re not coming?”
“I’m…I have…I have other plans today, Massimo.”
They stared at each other. There was some kind of unspoken conversation happening between the two of them, one that I could not understand.
He leaned closer to her as if to shut Celia and me out. “I thought we were going to talk this afternoon.”
Tess’s head shook slowly. Her voice came out in a whisper, so soft I almost didn’t hear her words. “I’m not going to do this, Massimo. I’m better than that.” She gave me a slight smile that she didn’t really mean. “Bye, Marco.”
Before she could walk off, I touched her arm. “Hey, maybe we can finish that conversation later?”
There was an unmistakable sheen in her eyes that hadn’t been there moments ago. “No need. My mind is made up. I’m not staying. I don’t have a reason to stay.”
Despite Massimo burning a hole in the side of her head with his stare, Tess did not turn back to him. She threw Celia a look I could not decipher a
nd left.
My brother was quiet for the rest of the day. Including our family of seven, there were sixteen people seated around our table for the midday meal. Even with all those voices contending with one another, it seemed quiet without my brother’s usual chatter and laughter. He still conversed with those around him and laughed when warranted, but his robust personality was subdued. I figured he was upset that Tessa didn’t come, although her parents did, and it was their last meal at our home before they moved away. Celia was also quiet. She never said much at these functions, not when her mother was with her dictating her every move.
The one person I wished would be quiet was my cousin Paolo. My siblings and I could barely tolerate the man. He was an arrogant, entitled braggart, who was well versed at beguiling undeserved affection and respect from others. Even though I had zero proof, there was something sleazy about Paolo. Family was family, however, even if they were generally disliked.
He thanked my mother for the meal, congratulated my parents on my mother’s pregnancy, and then announced his engagement to someone he wouldn’t name. That perked Celia up, though she said nothing. She sat up straighter, grinned, and dug into her cake with gusto. I was quietly amused, knowing all the marriage talk was making her as eager as I was for our own wedding.
After the meal, most of our guests headed home. A few of the men retreated into my father’s study for some wine and cigars, and my mother and sisters went to their respective rooms to rest. Celia remained behind when her mother and aunt left. I wanted to sneak her into my room. However, she led me outside, through the gardens, and into the vineyard.
It would be another month or so before the harvest was ready. In comparison to other estates in the area, our vineyard was small and hardly worth noting. Still, it produced enough fruit for my family to always have a bottle of wine on hand.
Celia and I were quiet as we walked between the rows of vines. Reminiscing, I glanced over at her, with a curve of my mouth. “Do you remember when we used to play out here?”
Her lips pursed. “I remember when you and Massimo used to chase me and scare me out here.”
