Deception

by Victoria Saccenti

  “I had it in my hand. But then I got to know her. I fell in love.” He slapped his chest. “Ignoring what I knew and what she’d done, I put it all aside. I need to find her, talk to her, make her understand.”

  “Good luck with that.” She sighed. “I don’t know what to think. This looks awful, but somehow, I believe you. She’s at Soledad’s place.”

  “Thank you.” He grimaced. “I need to settle a matter before I go.”

  Joe turned and pushed through the doors. He stomped and weaved through the crowd until he reached the bar. The duo didn’t see him until he grabbed Dan’s collar and yanked hard. The buttons popped as the shirt ripped. Dan tumbled to the floor on his back.

  “Yo!” Aaron swiveled on his stool. Leading with his elbow, Joe swung. He struck Aaron’s neck. Dazed, Aaron collapsed on the bar top.

  Now he concentrated on Dan. On his back, eyes wide, the coward held up his palms. “Take it easy, Joe,” he begged.

  “Easy?” With all the fury boiling in his chest, Joe kicked. Dan howled, grabbing his middle.

  Customers clustered silently around them.

  “Do you know the damage you’ve done?” Joe kicked Dan’s ribs again and again. “A defenseless woman.”

  “Stop, Joe. Please, stop,” Pete called out from behind the bar.

  Someone tried to hold his shoulder. Joe swatted the hand away, beyond hearing.

  “Motherfucker, I never wanna see you again,” he hissed. “Hunter should press charges.” He spit at Dan’s face and walked out.

  St. Cloud was no different from any other small town in the country. Businesses in the downtown area were close to one another. The owners, for the most part, also lived nearby. Soledad, of course, owned a home a block away from Costa del Sol. Tonight, Joe could have used a thirty-minute drive to compose his thoughts. No such luck—he arrived in what seemed to him like a few seconds.

  He shut off the engine as he admired the pretty yellow façade with shuttered windows and the wavy flagstone path lined with flowery bushes.

  Behind the closed door, the love of his life licked the wounds two assholes had inflicted for no good reason. A profound sadness displaced his initial fury. When all was said and done, he was the cause of her pain.

  If only…

  Too late for regrets. What-ifs made a sane person crazy, and turning back the clock was impossible. He could only hope for illumination when he spoke to her. Inhaling a deep breath, he climbed down and closed the door. He didn’t bother locking the truck.

  The foyer light was on, and there were signs of activity inside the home. He tried to walk quickly, but with every step forward, a peculiar heaviness slowed his progress, and the distance seemed to lengthen and stretch out to infinity. He paused and breathed deeply, and the panic attack stopped.

  Yanira answered the doorbell. “Good evening, Joe. Come in.” Her attitude was composed and unemotional, as if she’d been expecting him.

  He’d never felt so awkward in his life.

  “Can I get you something to drink? Soledad will be out in a moment.” A questioning look flashed briefly in her amber eyes. “Take a seat, please.” She pointed at the leather sofa and chairs arranged in front of a huge TV screen.

  “I’m okay, thank you.” He sat at the edge of the chair—an accused delinquent waiting for judgment.

  “Excuse me,” Yanira said. “I’ll be in the kitchen. Call if you need anything.”

  Joe nodded as a swish of skirts announced Soledad’s arrival. She sat across from him.

  “Hunter doesn’t want to see you.” She folded her hands on her lap. “Frankly, I feel used as well.” Her tone was gentle, which frightened the hell out of him. “You scammed me. I revealed significant details, believing you loved Hunter, that you wanted the best for her. You’re quite the actor.”

  “I did not act.” He kept his response even. Anger wouldn’t help him at all. “I need to speak with Hunter. To tell her the truth.”

  “Why would she believe you?” She arched an eyebrow.

  “All right. Is Dan more truthful than me? Suddenly, she trusts Dan implicitly? Is that it? I thought they despise each other.”

  Soledad crossed her arms. “Apparently he was convincing. Very convincing.”

  “Five minutes is all I ask.” He pressed his palms together. “Don’t I deserve a chance?”

  “Everyone does.” Hunter stood at the entrance of the living room.

  He bolted to his feet. Her green eyes glittered. She’d been weeping, that was obvious, and her beautiful creamy skin showed scattered red blotches, yet she’d never been more beautiful to him. He controlled the desire to enfold her in his arms.

  “Kitten, can we talk?”

  She held up her palm, and her lips curved down. “Don’t. Don’t call me that. It hurts.”

  “Okay. I won’t. Please sit.”

  “I prefer to stand.” She took two steps into the living room.

  He tried to capture her gaze as he had in the past and failed. She’d dropped an unseen barrier between them. Deflated, he jammed his hands into the pockets of his slacks.

  “I was wounded and lost my eye in Afghanistan because an op went terribly bad.” Studying the floor, he paced in small circles as he spoke. “One of my men, a close friend, committed suicide by combat. He stepped in front of the Taliban leader. The image will forever be embedded in my mind.”

  “That’s terrible,” she murmured.

  “Yes.” He lifted his head. “That’s how this began.” He grimaced. “My friend received a letter from his girlfriend breaking up with him. That kind of letter will destroy a man in a forward combat zone.”

  “I’m sure,” she murmured. “But I don’t—”

  “You sent it. I read your name clearly. Hunter Giordano.”

  She frowned as her face lost all color. “No. Not me.” She stepped back. “I would never…”

  The sadness in him deepened. Behind him stood a young man, the thread of his life cut before it began. In front of him stood the woman he loved above all things. In the middle, a cruel letter created an abyss.

  He nodded in silence.

  “Oh… I get it.” She stiffened. “You did want revenge. Didn’t matter if I was innocent. That’s why you came around me, flirted, swept me off my feet.”

  “Only at the very beginning. I hardly knew you.” He held out his hand. “It didn’t last.”

  “Ha.” She sneered. “What a joke. The man who talked about truth, the Dom who insisted on absolute trust. Why didn’t you ask me? No…you didn’t trust me. You talked to Master Kurt before me. Well, let me tell you, I haven’t done anything to anyone in Afghanistan!”

  “I didn’t ask you because it wasn’t important anymore. I f-fell… I f-fell in l-love with you. I…I a-adore you, more than my life. So I put the past aside. That’s what I told Master Kurt. Only you matter, you, nothing else.”

  “Joe, you wasted your time.” She moved farther back, her expression hard, her face like carved stone. “I can’t. I don’t want to hear love. I don’t believe you. I can’t. It’s all broken.”

  Hunter fled down the hallway. Joe tried to reach her. Out of nowhere, Soledad stepped between them and pressed her palm on his chest.

  “Leave her be.” She pushed him back. “Respect my home. Take a deep breath. Join me.” Returning to the sofa, she waved for him to do the same. “She needs a little time to calm down and hear you. Process the information you gave her. I’m curious, though. You mentioned a letter. Do you still have it?”

  He nodded.

  Soledad scratched her temple. “This situation is very strange. I’m talking about your buddy. I don’t remember Hunter writing…” She left the sentence hanging.

  “Imagine how I feel.”

  “Honestly.” She wrinkled her nose. “If I were in your shoes, I would’ve demanded the head of the woman who wrote it on a silver platter. I’d want payback too. None of us in the normal world can relate to the living conditions of troops in combat zones.�
��

  “Exactly.” He scratched the back of his neck.

  “Come back tomorrow.” Soledad smiled. “Give her a few hours to settle down. She’s upset with you, but the attempted rape wigged her out totally. Bring the letter. Show her. Paint her the real picture. What it was like for you and your fellow Marine, and she’ll understand. You may have to crawl a little, but I think she’s worth it.”

  He sighed, standing up. “She’s more than worth it. She’s everything to me. I’ll be back in the morning.”

  Soledad walked with him to the door. As he went out, she murmured, “Be careful driving home, Joe. You’re upset too.”

  “Thanks, Sole. Please take care of her.”

  “Always.”

  The first thing Joe did when he entered his home was to take the letter out from the desk drawer. He took it to his sofa and sat as he carefully removed the stained paper from the envelope. He read again the short lines, paying attention to every word. Nope, he’d not made a mistake or confused the writer’s intent. She wanted out. Billy was a silly child. She didn’t love him. He should move on with his life.

  He folded the paper back in the envelope as he sent a mental curse to the universe for dropping this awful situation in his lap. Exhaling a large breath, he placed the envelope under his wallet and keys at the table by the door.

  The easy part was over. The long wait followed: the endless hours of the night mocked him. Sleeping was out of the question. A frenzy of guilty thoughts and Hunter’s desolate expression filled his mind.

  Flicking the TV on didn’t work. He couldn’t concentrate. The adventure channels he enjoyed regularly and the humorous late-night shows bored him. He climbed into bed and picked up a magazine. Fuck, the room still smelled of Hunter. He couldn’t stay here. He returned to the sofa, shifted, tossed, placed some cushions under his head. Staring at the ceiling, he lost track of time. He sighed with relief when the sky changed from black to pale blue. Just a few more hours before he saw her and explained the miserable story that had brought them both to this sad situation.

  Daylight woke him with a start. Panicking, he glanced at his wristwatch. It was seven forty-five. Thank goodness. The short nap had restored him, and he could make it to Soledad’s before she went to work.

  Joe jumped to his feet. As he passed by the kitchen he set up the coffeemaker. He showered and dressed in minutes. He dropped a slice of bread in the toaster, fixed his coffee and drank the stimulating liquid while waiting for the bread to pop. The clock on the stove displayed ten after eight. He reminded himself to relax. He didn’t want to show up too early. He had enough time to eat his buttered toast and arrive at Soledad’s by eight forty-five. She was expecting him, and he assumed she would wait, at least until nine thirty.

  With military precision when it was eighty thirty on the nose, he swept past his side table, picked up his keys, wallet, and envelope, and ran out to his truck.

  Soledad’s house looked even cuter in the morning light. He should offer her his landscaping advice and help for free once this problem was solved. She’d been extremely helpful and supportive.

  He walked up the path along red geraniums. Before he could ring the bell, a deadly serious Soledad opened the door.

  His stomach jumped.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m sorry, Joe.” She shook her head. “Hunter’s gone.”

  Soledad’s words kicked him right in his solar plexus.

  “Huh?”

  Pressing her lips together, she yanked him inside and slammed the door shut. In the living room, a distraught Yanira clasped and unclasped her hands.

  “I…don’t…understand,” he mumbled, confused.

  “Yani, my love, would you get him some water?”

  “Right away.” Yanira moved quickly away.

  Soledad guided him gently to the sofa.

  “Where is she?” he asked, unable to shake the stupid sensation.

  Yanira returned with a bottle of water, which Soledad put in his hand. “On her way to Brooklyn.”

  He made a move to stand, but Soledad grabbed his arm.

  “Stop, Joe. You’ll never make it in time. Her flight leaves in thirty minutes.”

  Exhaustion overwhelmed him, and last night’s sadness returned. She’d gone, and he was devastated.

  “She didn’t give me a chance.”

  “It’s partly my fault.” She patted his hand. “I didn’t realize how upset she was. If I had guessed, I would have insisted she speak to you last night.”

  “Don’t take the blame for this. I’m the responsible party. I did this.” He thumped his chest.

  “A combination of events intervened.” She grimaced. “Kevin’s fight worried her. Mamá Giordano gave her crap on the phone. The rape attempt and your revelation filled her plate to the edge. Without my knowledge, she spoke to Kelly about purchasing a ticket. Kelly bought it for her, then Hunter made shuttle arrangements. She was picked up around six.” She sighed. “She left a note and snuck out before Yani and I woke up. I’m sorry I didn’t call you earlier, but I thought it would be best to talk to you in person.”

  “God. Now what?” He slumped against the sofa.

  “Did you bring the letter?” Soledad released his hand.

  Here.” He dug into his pocket. “It’s a bit roughed up.” He placed the envelope in Soledad’s palm.

  She looked at the front and scowled. “The handwriting…” She unfolded the paper and read. “Jesus. What a crazy, evil woman,” she exclaimed, holding the paper by the corner. “This is not Hunter’s handwriting.”

  “What the—” He straightened.

  “Yes, what the fuck.” Soledad nodded. “Hunter didn’t write this. I can prove it.”

  “I believe you. Son of a bitch, I knew it too,” he exclaimed. “I told Kurt something didn’t make sense. The Hunter I knew and the person who wrote such a mean letter couldn’t be the same. But who did, then?”

  Soledad held her forehead with her hand. “Only one person,” she murmured, closing her eyes. “One miserable, jealous woman. Do you remember the pair I told you about? The young man and his crazy mother?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “The mother hated Hunter. In addition to a ton of exaggerated objections, she thought Hunter was too vulgar and old for her precious son. She’d do anything to shatter her son’s illusions.”

  “But.” Joe frowned. “Wouldn’t Billy recognize his own mother’s handwriting?”

  “Not the way she did it.” Soledad studied the paper closely. “She combined print and cursive, to throw off her son.”

  “Tragically ironic,” he whispered, shifting his weight. “In her madness to push them apart, she ended up killing her son.”

  “Oh Lord. Notice here.” She turned the envelope around. “The mother used the bar’s address because she had no idea where Hunter lived.”

  “When I saw it, I thought that was the epitome of coldness.” He took the paper from Soledad’s hand, folded it, and inserted it back into the envelope. “This is why I believed Dan’s accusations.”

  “Hang on to that letter, Joe. That’s your proof and your reasons.”

  “Yes.” He hunched his shoulders in defeat. “But I still messed up. I may have changed in the end, but I began with bad intentions. Nothing alters that.”

  “Hunter’s forgiveness will.” She patted his hand. “I know she loves you.”

  He exhaled. “She’s put miles between us. But I am a stubborn, determined man. I love her. I’ll find her.”

  “And I’ll help you.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  DURING THE TWO-HOUR flight, Joe looked out the small window, concentrating on the layer of cotton-like clouds below the aircraft. He blocked out all other thoughts. Sitting next to him, his guide and supporter, Soledad Cuevas, read a book in silence.

  He’d never expected she’d volunteer for this mission. However, when he discussed with her his plans to see Hunter, she insisted on flying up with him. He tried to co
nvince her otherwise, but she wouldn’t hear of it.

  “You’re going to Brooklyn, not Manhattan. The cab ride will cost you a fortune ’cause you don’t know the way and the driver will likely take advantage of you. But that’s my hometown. I can’t be fooled.”

  Her logic was difficult to challenge. Still, he insisted.

  “I can’t inconvenience you like this. What about the store?” he’d protested.

  “Yanira will handle it. And I owe my parents a visit. Stop fighting me. I’m going and that’s that.”

  As soon as the aircraft door opened and passengers began deplaning, Soledad took over the operation. He couldn’t believe this was the same cute, easygoing woman who owned Costa del Sol. She turned ferocious as she led the way to the elevator and emerged into the insanity called ground transportation/passenger pickup. Out at the curb, she pushed through the jostling throngs to argue with the man organizing the long line of taxis.

  “We got one,” she yelled at Joe over the cacophony of horns, engines, and vociferating humanity. They jumped into the cab, and Soledad spewed a bunch of directions. Seconds later, the driver sped out of the circular complex called Kennedy International Airport and into the stop-and-go congestion on the Belt Parkway.

  After a long, boring while, the cab passed an area called Howard Beach, and the traffic lightened. Now they moved at a more normal speed. But with speed, anxiety surfaced. Thoughts and scenarios, one after another, flashed through his mind—none of them optimistic.

  His mouth dried up. He took a sip of the can of soda the flight attendant had given him before landing.

  “Look.” Soledad poked his arm with delight. “Here comes the Mill Basin Bridge. We’re almost there.”

  He groaned.

  “Cheer up.” She smiled. “Gloom and doom won’t help your cause. You brought the letter, yes?”

  “Got it right here.” He patted the pocket of his windbreaker.

  “This is a cool gesture on your part. Shows devotion.” She raised a shoulder. “Remember, Hunter is a wounded creature. It’s possible you’ll have to grovel some more. We’ll see.”

  “I’ll do whatever it takes. I have to show her, prove myself, and that’s not going to happen overnight.”