Grinded (The Invincibles Book 3)

by Heather Slade

  In less than a month, I’d be graduating from secondary school. Less than a month later, I’d begin training at the Royal Military Academy Sandhurst—known to most simply as Sandhurst. My plan was to become an officer in the British Army. The two-year training program would be rigorous, and at the end, I would join the ranks in service to my country.

  My mum wasn’t pleased when I announced my acceptance, but my father had enthusiastically given his consent.

  In my unreciprocated correspondence, I’d told Pia I hoped to come to Italy before I had to report to the academy. I wouldn’t have much time, but at least we’d be able to see each other again.

  That she hadn’t responded, stung. Perhaps I made too much of what she’d written to me. What to me was a longing to see her again, to her may have been a flirtation she hadn’t expected me to act on.

  Feeling foolish, I pulled the heart-shaped stone she’d sent me out of my pocket and studied it. Since the day it arrived, I’d carried it with me everywhere. It had become my touchstone. Perhaps it was time to let go of the foolish boyhood crush it represented. I set it on my dresser and walked out of the room. Before I was all the way downstairs, though, I raced up and put it back in my pocket. Silly or not, I felt a certain sense of peace when I carried it with me.

  The day after my graduation, my parents were leaving on their annual summer holiday, this time to the Algarve region of Portugal. I’d begged off going for even a week, saying I had to prepare for my departure to Sandhurst.

  “We’ll be off, then,” said my mother, reaching up to kiss my cheek. “You won’t change your mind and join us?”

  I shook my head. “Thank you, but no. Too much to do and all that.”

  “Right,” she said, her eyes scrunching as she handed me an envelope.

  “What’s this?”

  “Our gift to you, Miles,” said my father as I pulled out the round-trip ticket to Florence. “It seems you might have some unfinished business in Tuscany.”

  I looked over his shoulder at my sister, who couldn’t contain her smile. Once our mum and dad were off, she’d be getting an earful from me. She’d obviously orchestrated this “gift.”

  “You’d best pack, Miles,” said my mother. “Your flight leaves at the same time ours does.”

  “Seriously?” I looked at the ticket a second time. Yes, it was for today. “Bullocks,” I muttered, rushing up the stairs to grab my things.

  As I made my way back down, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the red stone, hoping the girl who’d given it to me would be happy to see me.

  I cheek-kissed my parents when we arrived at the airport and then rushed over to the agent, thrusting my ticket at him.

  “Your first visit to Italy?” he asked as he stamped my passport.

  “Second,” I answered.

  “Buon viaggio!”

  I hurried through security and got to the gate just as they announced early boarding.

  By the time the plane landed in Florence, I was back to feeling trepidatious. Rather than hiring a car to go to Val d’Orcia tonight, I decided to spend a few days in Florence. It was something I’d wanted to do on our visit two years ago, but once I’d met Pia, I forgot about anything in Italy other than her.

  As I passed by the counters where travelers could hire cars, I felt pulled to rent one. If I were spending the next few days in Florence, having a vehicle would prove more of a nuisance. In fact, it would be impossible, given cars weren’t allowed in the ancient city, except those who held special permits.

  Telling myself I’d spend time in Florence after I saw Pia, I succumbed, knowing full well I’d spend the ninety-minute drive lamenting my decision.

  Driving through the gates of Antica Cascina dei Conti di Valentini, memories of my time here came rushing back to me. I was struck that it was even more beautiful than I remembered.

  I drove up to the farmhouse, relieved it didn’t appear as though anyone had rented it. Just for the heck of it, I got out and walked up to the front door. When I knocked, it unlatched and slowly opened.

  “Hello?” I called out, but no one answered. I walked into the kitchen, calling out again, but found it empty. Feeling assured I wasn’t intruding on someone’s holiday, I ran up the stairs to the room that had been mine.

  It was as though time had stood still. Everything looked exactly the same. I flopped on the bed and clasped my hands under my head. I closed my eyes and thought back to when I first saw Pia. If only her laughter would drift up to me now. I’d look out as I did that day, and she would see me. We would race to each other, and I’d lift her in my arms, twirling her in a circle before I covered her lips with mine and kissed her.

  I bolted upright when I heard the front door open and close. Jumping up, I made my way to the top of the staircase. “Hello?” I called out.

  “Tu chi sei?” asked a man standing just inside the front door. I recognized him. Paolo—the guy she told me she broke up with.

  “Sorry, I stayed here a couple of years ago and got caught in reminiscing. If you’ve let the place, I apologize for my intrusion.” When I got to the bottom of the stairs, feigning ignorance to a possible relationship between him and Pia, I stuck my hand out to shake his. He didn’t do the same.

  “You’re trespassing,” he responded, scowling.

  “Right. Like I said, my apologies. I’m actually here to see Pia.”

  The man’s hooded eyes went almost black, and he folded his arms. “She isn’t here.”

  “I can see that, but is she at home?” I motioned in the direction of the villa.

  “No.”

  “I’ve traveled from England and was hoping to see her before I have to return. Will she be back later today?”

  “No,” he repeated.

  “Tomorrow, then?”

  When he shook his head, I ran my hand through my hair. “Very well. I’ll just find a place in town and try to reach her.”

  “Pia doesn’t want to see you.”

  “Look, mister…I didn’t catch your last name.”

  “Viticcio.”

  “Right. Viticcio. Pia and I are friends. I’m sure if she knew I was here, she’d be happy to see me.”

  Before I realized what was happening, the man had me by the shirt collar and pushed me out the front door. “She isn’t here, and if she were, she wouldn’t want to see you. As I said before, you’re trespassing.” He let me go with a shove.

  As tempted as I was, I didn’t put my hands on him. In a few days’ time, I was due to report to the Royal Military Academy. The last thing I needed was an incident in a foreign country. “The Pia I know makes decisions for herself.”

  The man grinned, but not at all in a friendly way. “Not anymore.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I’m her fiancé, and I make the decisions as to whom she sees and doesn’t see.”

  I wondered if that was truly the case. If so, Pia was a very different person than the one I’d met two years ago.

  I got in the car and pounded my fist on the steering wheel as I drove out the gates of the estate, wondering how I could’ve been so bloody stupid. Pia hadn’t answered me. Shouldn’t that have been enough for me to realize she didn’t want to see me?

  Instead of driving back to Florence, I went in the opposite direction. I had no idea where I was headed, but I hoped it was somewhere I could forget all about Pia Deltetto.

  4

  Pia

  I bit my bottom lip and took another step toward the front door. I’d been standing in front of the address on the letters I received from Mylos for twenty minutes, trying to talk myself into knocking on the door.

  This truly had to be the craziest thing I ever did. A week ago, when I decided to travel to London on my own, not knowing if Mylos would be home, and if he was, whether he’d want to see me, it’d seemed romantic and adventurous. Now it seemed stupid and expensive, given I’d soon be taking a taxi back to the airport to exchange my ticket and return to Italy if I couldn’
t muster the courage to just knock on the damn door.

  I hadn’t made a move in either direction when the front door opened and a woman walked toward me.

  “May I help you?” she asked, eyeing the envelope in my hand. Before I could answer, she gasped. “Are you Pia?”

  I bit my bottom lip again. “Sì.”

  “Come in, for goodness’ sake,” she said, pulling me with her. “I’m Lily, by the way, Miles’ sister.”

  I stopped when we got to the door. “I don’t want to intrude.”

  She rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling. “God, you sound just like him.”

  She led me inside, took my bag from my hand, and set it on the floor. “Can I get you a cup of tea?”

  “Um, sure. Thank you.” I looked around the small kitchen that reminded me of Mylos’ mother. There were teapots and cups, plates, and towels, all with different floral patterns. If I closed my eyes, I could see her in this space, puttering around, talking to herself all the while. I loved my mamma, but Mylos’ mother made my heart happy.

  I looked up at Lily, who was studying me. “I know why Miles likes you so much.”

  “You do?” I didn’t.

  “Everything you’re thinking is written on your face.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I put one hand on my hip. “What was I thinking just now?”

  “What a quaint kitchen this is, and how fascinating you find it to be.”

  I had to give it to her. “Close.”

  “What did I miss?”

  “I can see your mother in this kitchen. It looks like her.”

  “See? And while another person might think that would be insulting, because of the look on your face, it’s endearing.”

  It seemed like a stupid question, but I asked anyway. “Is Mylos home?”

  She shook her head. “He isn’t, and you won’t believe it when I tell you where he is.” She set a plate of cookies in front of me and then poured the tea. “Cream or sugar?”

  “Yes, both please.”

  “So,” she said, taking a seat. “My brother is in Italy. To visit you, by the way.”

  “Santa Madre di Dio. Are you serious?” I put my head in my hand. “But, why didn’t he tell me? Why didn’t he write?”

  Lily cocked her head. “He did.”

  “When?”

  “Weeks ago. You didn’t respond.”

  I pulled the letter out of my pocket. “This was the last I received from him.”

  She studied the postmark. “He wrote another after this one.”

  “I didn’t get it.”

  “Right. Well, this is a bloody mess.”

  I scooted my chair back; Lily put her hand on my arm.

  “You can’t be thinking of leaving.”

  “He isn’t here. I’m…intruding.” I knew I’d said it before, but I couldn’t think of a better word.

  “Before you go anywhere, let me try to reach him.”

  She left the room and came back a few minutes later with a cell phone. “Straight to voicemail.”

  “Okay.” This time when I stood, she put her hand on my shoulder.

  “Where are you staying?”

  “I’m not.”

  Lily shook her head. “You aren’t going anywhere until I reach my brother. Your luck, your airplanes will pass in the air.” She tapped her cheek with her finger, something I often did too. “Look, my parents are in Portugal, and I’m here on my own. Stay with me until we can sort this mess out.”

  “I don’t want to—”

  “Intrude? You’re not. Worst-case scenario, I’ll show you around London, unless you’ve been here before.”

  “I haven’t.”

  “Come on.” She motioned for me to follow and picked up my bag. “You can stay in Miles’ room.” When she winked and nudged me, I smiled.

  I opened my lids the next morning, shielding my eyes from the sun that poured in through the window. My head was pounding, and I felt like I’d eaten a cotton ball.

  When we didn’t hear back from Mylos, Lily convinced me to go with her to meet some friends at a pub not far from the house.

  I couldn’t remember when I’d last had so much fun. Lily’s boyfriend, William, and several other people joined us, telling stories about Mylos for much of the night. The one we laughed about the most, though, was the fact he’d gone to Italy in search of me, and here I was in London.

  “It’s so romantic,” said one of the girls, whose name I couldn’t remember now. I could remember the look on her face, though. It had been wistful in a way that made my heart hurt. Sure, it was a great story, but not while I was living it. I hoped he’d call today. If he didn’t, I should probably accept it as not meant to be and go home.

  The next three days, I woke up with the same resolution, and Lily talked me out of it. She kept her promise of showing me around London. Each day was more fun than the one before. Tomorrow, though, I had to leave no matter what.

  There was still no word from Mylos. Lily had given up leaving messages, saying instead that she was the one who’d lucked out and had a new best friend. “He never checks his bloody mobile anyway,” she muttered over our morning cup of tea. “I’m sorry, Pia. I truly am.”

  We both jumped out of our seats when we heard the front door opening.

  “Miles!” shouted Lily, racing out of the kitchen. “Where in the hell have you been?”

  He rounded the corner, and his mouth dropped open. “Pia? What are you doing here?”

  Lily smacked him. “She’s here to see you, you tosser.”

  “But…”

  “She didn’t get your letter, so she came looking for you.”

  Mylos glared at his sister. “Would you mind letting Pia speak for herself?”

  “Sure, of course,” she said, shrugging and smiling. “I’ll just be in my room.” She silently clapped her hands and jumped up and down behind his back before she ran up the stairs.

  Once she was gone, Mylos scrubbed his face with his hand. “Explain this to me once more.”

  I bit my lip, wishing he seemed happier to see me. “Like Lily said, I didn’t get the last letter you sent. I wrote again, but when that went unanswered, I decided to come here. It was probably stupid, but…I had to see you again, Mylos.” When I took a step closer to him, he stepped back. Why was he acting this way? “I don’t understand. She said you went to Italy to see me.”

  He pulled a chair out from the table, but didn’t sit in it. Instead, he put his hands on the back of it, almost like it was a barrier between us.

  “I did, Pia, but when your fiancé was the first person I ran into, I saw the error of my ways.”

  “My what?”

  “Your fiancé. You know, the man you’re going to marry.”

  “I don’t know who you talked to, but you must’ve misunderstood. I don’t have a fiancé, and I’m definitely not getting married.” I held out my hands as though showing him I had no ring would prove I wasn’t lying.

  “Paolo—the guy you told me you broke up with.”

  “Paolo?”

  “That’s right. When he found me at the farmhouse, he told me I was trespassing.”

  “This is crazy. I’m not engaged, Mylos. Not to Paolo or anyone else. If I were, I wouldn’t have traveled to England to see you.”

  “Then, why did he say you were? Why was he even there?”

  “I don’t know, and believe me, I intend to find out.” While I knew my father had hired Paolo to help at the winery, it made no sense that he would tell Mylos we were engaged.

  When Mylos didn’t make any kind of move, I realized he still thought I was lying.

  “I’m sorry I came.” When I turned to walk out, I saw Lily in the hallway around the corner.

  “Uh-uh. No way. You aren’t going anywhere.” She pulled me back into the kitchen and stood in front of her brother. “This woman came all the way to London to see you. To see you!” She smacked the side of his head. “You’re a bloody idiot if you think she’d lie to you, and
if you do, then you aren’t my brother.”

  When he didn’t say anything, Lily made a sound of disgust and grabbed my arm again. “Come on, Pia. You don’t need this crap.”

  “Pia, Lily, wait…”

  My eyes filled with tears, and I couldn’t turn around and look at him.

  “Lily, give us a moment.”

  “Do you want me to?” she asked.

  I nodded.

  “Fix this, Miles,” she said and ran back upstairs.

  Seconds later, I felt his hands on my shoulders. “Forgive me. I’ve spent the last few days roaming around Italy, trying to mend a very foolish, broken heart and drinking away my self-pity.”

  I took a deep breath and slowly turned around to face him. “How can you say you have a broken heart and then call me a liar?”

  He put his hands back on my shoulders and leaned down to look into my eyes. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I just assumed that was the reason you never answered me.”

  “Do you still think I am engaged even though I’ve told you repeatedly that I’m not?”

  He shook his head.

  “What made you change your mind?”

  “I guess Lily smacking me, jarred my brain back into gear.” He squeezed my shoulders. “Forgive me?”

  I folded my arms. “I wouldn’t lie to you, Mylos, and I’m not an…imbrogliona—a cheater.”

  “I’m an idiot. One who’s begging you to forgive me.”

  His warm brown eyes were pleading as much as his words.

  “On one condition.”

  “Name it.”

  “Kiss me.”

  Mylos took a step forward, put his hand on the back of my neck, and captured my mouth with his.

  Oh, how I’d longed to know how it would feel to be kissed by him. His soft lips became hard. His tongue circled mine, and we devoured each other’s mouths.

  “Pia,” he groaned, weaving his fingers in my hair before taking my mouth again. I put my hands on his chest, dug my fingers into the chiseled muscles, and let my body melt into his.