Worth of Waste (DeLuca Duet #2)

by Bethany-Kris

  She recognized Theo, but not the blonde woman at his side.

  Lily, maybe.

  Dino’s sister.

  The slight glimpse she got of the woman’s profile confirmed what she thought—those DeLuca genes were strong, and Lily shared both her brothers’ features, although a prettier, feminine version.

  The young woman’s pain was as clear as day, and it only amplified the ache starting to grow in the middle of Karen’s chest.

  She’d ignored it for so long.

  She did what she needed to in order to keep moving for her son.

  And yet here … now … she found herself leaning forward, her hand grasping the curved edge of the back of the pew in front of her, as a sob rose in her chest and caught painfully in her throat.

  She couldn’t do this.

  She shouldn’t be here.

  That casket at the front—closed and gleaming—caught her eye.

  What was left of her heart shattered, while the rest of her just felt so fucking numb.

  “Are you okay, Miss?” the man with the hat asked Karen.

  She didn’t answer, simply pushed out of the pew and made a beeline for the doors of the church. She needed to get the hell out of there as fast as she possibly could.

  She had just made it to the front step, one that was now empty as the people had all gathered inside on the dreary day, when a voice from behind stopped her.

  “Karen, wait.”

  Theo.

  Karen’s heart hurt a little more, but she didn’t stop moving forward. She kept walking, taking the church steps two at a time, ignoring the smack of shoes hitting the pavement behind her. She’d just grabbed the driver’s door of her car when Theo caught up to her.

  “Karen!”

  “I just want to leave,” she said in a mumble, fumbling with the key fob and the unlock button. “I want to get the fuck out of here.”

  Theo cleared his throat, shoving his hands in his pockets as he watched her warily. He never came any closer, and Karen appreciated that. She was not in the mood for comfort of any sort.

  “I need to go pick up J from the daycare and get the hell out of this city,” Karen said, her words catching on the ache in her throat.

  “How’s he doing?” Theo asked.

  Karen looked over at him, not sure what to say. “He’s …”

  “Yeah?”

  “Lost.”

  A lot like she was.

  A lot like Theo looked to be right then.

  Theo shifted on his feet, glancing over his shoulder back at the church. “Listen, if you need anything, Karen … or if the baby needs something, you know where to find me.”

  “You can’t give me what I need, Theo.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

  “I don’t even understand what happened. One day, everything was fine, and then the next, he was gone. He didn’t even say anything about something like this.”

  “He didn’t know. Nobody did. It looked like a timer bomb on his radio, so when he switched stations, it set the relay to count down three seconds before it blew up. The car burned out, but a lot of pieces were sent flying, and that was how they found part of the electronics for the bomb.”

  Karen wished that information helped her somehow.

  Just knowing how it all happened.

  “Who?” she asked.

  Theo shrugged. “I don’t know, but I’m working on that. Could I, uh …”

  Karen finally got that damned car unlocked, and she pulled opened the driver’s door. “What, Theo?”

  “Could I call you? Maybe we can meet up once a week or something.”

  She looked to the church. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. He didn’t want us around those—”

  “Just me,” Theo interrupted quickly. “I owe it to him—who else is going to help you with that baby, now?”

  Karen nodded. “I know how to contact you.”

  With that, Theo said his goodbye, and Karen watched as he made his way back to the church, and then disappeared inside. A part of her wanted to go with him, to finish what she had started with Dino, and put him to rest like they both deserved.

  A bigger part wouldn’t allow her to let go at all.

  A part that still didn’t want to admit he was gone.

  Karen climbed into her car, needing to get away from those thoughts. She was just starting to back out of the parking space when she had a thought …

  His mother’s grave.

  Who would clean it now?

  Who would say hello to her every Sunday like he had done for years?

  Karen threw her car back in park, left her purse and everything else sitting on the passenger seat, and even the keys remained in the ignition as she got out and headed for the cemetery. She went through the large gates, the only opening in the high stone wall that kept the graves protected.

  It was as empty as it always was.

  She weaved in and out of tombstones, careful not to step on graves, as she found the familiar one that had started it all.

  How appropriate, she thought.

  How appropriate that it was here where she said goodbye.

  Karen wiped the blades of grass and other dirt from the stone of Valerie DeLuca, fixing the string of rosary beads hugging the headstone. She didn’t stay long, maybe only a minute or two, but she felt better when she finally stood to leave.

  Not okay, not whole, but better.

  It was something.

  Karen turned to leave, settling herself with the idea of coming back next week to do the same, and froze right where she stood.

  He sat there on that bench where she had waited for him once.

  He sat there with a sad smile and brown eyes trained on her.

  He sat there like a statue, cold and unmoving.

  Karen wondered if she was going crazy.

  God knew she had felt insane for a while, now.

  Dino patted the spot beside him on the bench, never once looking away from Karen. “Come and sit. I think I have to apologize again.”

  Karen blinked. “You’re not real. You’re dead.”

  He couldn’t be.

  Dino smiled, his hand lifting to show a bandage covering a great portion of his limb. “Dead people don’t feel pain, Karen.”

  “I’m going crazy—that’s what this is.”

  “Would that be easier?” he asked.

  Maybe.

  “No,” Karen settled on saying.

  “Let me apologize again, Karen.”

  Her heart, and the soul she thought was gone forever, wouldn’t let her refuse.

  Even if she was crazy.

  Five months later …

  Dino

  THREE broken ribs.

  Burns up his left hand, arm, and down his back.

  Dislocated right shoulder.

  Two broken toes.

  A nasty gash under his jawline.

  Two black eyes.

  Busted blood vessels in his eyes and nose.

  Internal bruising.

  A concussion.

  But he was alive.

  Dino was alive.

  He vaguely remembered the minutes after the bomb had blown, and he’d woken up in the graveyard, on the other side of the high stone fence. He’d stumbled away from the smoke and fire filling up the sky on the other side of the fence, confusion muddling his thoughts and his brain functions. He’d fallen again and again, his ears ringing, his vomit spilling to the grass as he fought to stay awake long enough to make it to the other side of the graveyard.

  It’d been a long walk.

  The longest fucking walk of his life.

  Some driver passing by when he’d exited the other side of the graveyard had picked him up, and taken him to a nearby walk-in clinic. He’d passed out—they labeled him a John Doe, and no one came to claim him.

  Lucky, he supposed.

  Dino pretended like he didn’t know who he was when the doctors and nurses asked, and one day, when he heard them mention that
an officer would be in to question him, he snuck out of his room, and left the hospital without another look back.

  Funny, he thought.

  All those injuries.

  The burns, the pain, the nightmares …

  He had survived worse. Ben had put him through far worse, which he kept telling Karen each and every time he woke up from another dream about the bomb, and yet it hadn’t killed him.

  It should have.

  He should have been dead, burned to a fucking crisp like everyone thought he had been, and buried beside his parents’ graves.

  Yet, he wasn’t.

  A fucking bomb hadn’t killed him.

  But a few stray bullets damn near killed his brother.

  Dino stared across the hospital parking lot, watching as his brother stood from a wheelchair, helped by Lily on his one side and Evelina Conti on his other. He stayed hidden in his car, the dark windows keeping him from being seen, as the scene played out at the hospital entrance. It killed him inside to see his brother struggle—to see the pain flicker in Theo’s face as he picked up a bag, and then gave Evelina a quick kiss on her cheek.

  That—his brother’s relationship—was not something Dino expected.

  It wasn’t a bad thing, though.

  Lily fretted, moving all around Theo, her lips moving fast as they walked toward a waiting car. Their little sister was doing better, she’d accepted their life, she was moving forward. Dino couldn’t ask for more, and the small swell of her stomach made him smile, though his heart broke a little at the knowledge he probably wouldn’t ever get to meet her first child.

  After all, if he wanted to be free, going back was not an option.

  Their life had always been a prison to him.

  They were doing just fine, now. Without him, they’d learned how to take care of themselves, how to make shit work, and how to survive. Theo had gone after each and every monster that Dino had left behind, and put them in a grave one by one until none were left to haunt the DeLuca siblings still living with their demons.

  They had grieved.

  They had smiled a little less for a while.

  But they came out just fine in the end.

  Dino was going to keep letting them be fine.

  They didn’t need him now.

  He’d done his job.

  He’d kept his promises.

  “How did Theo look?” Karen asked as Dino entered the cabin’s kitchen.

  He wasn’t even surprised that she knew where he had gone. It was becoming a habit for him lately. Even though he knew it was dangerous, and a little bit stupid, he found himself going into the city at least once a week to check on his brother or sister.

  Up until the shooting that had nearly killed Theo, Karen too had gone out once a week to take Junior to meet up with his uncle.

  Dino stayed hidden at the cabin, then. Theo never came to the cabin.

  “In pain,” Dino finally said.

  He came up behind her, kissing the back of her neck as she washed vegetables for supper.

  “And Lily?”

  “Worried, and pregnant.”

  Karen nodded. “Theo mentioned something about that the last time we talked.”

  She didn’t tell him a lot of details about her conversations with Theo. It was easier on Dino that way, and he could pretend like he didn’t want to know because then he was allowing his siblings a real chance at life and freedom without him.

  He wanted the same—they all deserved it.

  “Theo called before you even got back here,” Karen admitted.

  Dino stiffened. “Oh?”

  “Thanked me again for coming so late to visit with him and Lily that night at the hospital. He wants to see Junior when he’s feeling more up to moving around.”

  “Sure.”

  “Someday, I’m going to have to start telling him no, Dino.”

  He knew that.

  He also knew Theo probably wouldn’t understand why Karen refused to take their son out to visit his uncle in the city, but like the good man he was, Theo would accept her choices.

  “It’s just that Junior talks about you when Theo’s there, saying his daddy told him this or that, or he did this or that with his daddy,” Karen said quietly. “Theo usually takes it as Junior means before, but as he gets older, J should understand the difference between now and then, Dino. Theo’s not stupid.”

  “I know,” Dino murmured.

  “He loves that boy.”

  “He still will.”

  Karen nodded. “You hungry?”

  “Starved.”

  “Junior wanted to go out on the boat, too.”

  Dino smiled. “I can do that.”

  Karen turned around, her gaze lit up with happiness as she stared at him. Her fingers ghosted over a couple of new scars on his cheek, some scrapes that had taken longer to heal and left nasty marks behind.

  He owned a whole bunch of new marks now.

  He figured they were worth it for moments like these.

  Moments with Karen.

  Moments with his son.

  He had forever to have these moments now.

  “You okay?” Karen asked.

  Dino leaned down and kissed her again. “Perfect.”

  “Love you, Dino.”

  “Always, sweetheart.”

  He didn’t exist anymore.

  Not to the outside world.

  Dino DeLuca was dead and buried, as far as anyone understood. He was finally able to be the man that Karen deserved, and the full-time father he’d prayed to be for his son.

  It was all he had wanted.

  Yet, freedom was never quite free.

  He still had to give up a lot, but he did it.

  For the majority of his life, Dino had been treated as something that was worthless. A piece of waste to throw out with the trash. He certainly learned exactly what his worth was by the end of it all—he learned even waste had worth, and he hoped the people he had left behind understood it, too.

  Dino regretted nothing.

  I was so convinced for a very long time that I would not be telling Dino DeLuca’s story, because well … we all knew how he ended, didn’t we? And yet, at the same time, I never actively made an effort in the War series to write an official page of his death, something that would say for sure, no question, he was gone. I even left bits to use, things to go back and give the reader some spark of hope that maybe—maybe, maybe, maybe—he was alive, like the pictures sent to Theo, or the fact it was a closed coffin, with Theo never discussing the body of his brother that had never actually been found.

  And I suppose now, we all know why it wasn’t found, right?

  So many readers wanted this story, even if it ended badly, even if they thought they knew how it ended for Dino, they wanted it. And I have to give them my heartfelt, most genuine thanks first, because you all were the reason I decided to sit down and create the ending Dino deserved. After all his life’s worth, all he sacrificed, he certainly deserved his own private happiness that no one but him could touch. So thank you.

  To my editor, Nina, thank you for being wonderful, and for pushing me to be a better writer. I am so grateful to have found you in the midst of many others. I’m not quite sure my books would come out the same way they do without your stamp of approval on them.

  To my proofreaders and prereaders, Eli and Mia, thank you for jumping headfirst into the Duet, not knowing where it was leading us to, or what was going to happen, but still being so excited from the moment you read the first page. Every author needs people like you in their corner. I’m proud to have you in mine.

  And to my family, all my love, thanks, and my heart. For the heart is where your home is, and mine is always with you.

  —Kris

  Bethany-Kris is a Canadian author, lover of much, and mother to three very young sons, one cat, and two dogs. A small town in Eastern Canada where she was born and raised is where she has always called home. With her boys under her feet, a snuggling cat, bar
king dogs, and a spouse calling over his shoulder, she is nearly always writing something ... when she can find the time.

  Find Bethany-Kris at:

  Her website www.bethanykris.com,

  or on Facebook at www.facebook.com/bethanykriswrites,

  on her blog at www.bethanykris.com/blog,

  or on Twitter - @BethanyKris.

  Sign up to Bethany-Kris’s New Release Newsletter here: http://eepurl.com/bf9lzD.

  Filthy Marcellos

  Antony

  Lucian

  Giovanni

  Dante

  Legacy

  The Complete Collection

  Donati Bloodlines

  Thin Lies

  Thin Lines

  Thin Lives

  The Chicago War

  Deathless & Divided

  Reckless & Ruined

  Scarless & Sacred

  Breathless & Bloodstained

  The Russian Guns

  The Arrangement

  The Life

  The Score

  Demyan & Ana

  Shattered

  The Jersey Vignettes

  Find more on Bethany-Kris’s website at www.bethanykris.com.

  Copyright © 2017 by Bethany-Kris. All Rights Reserved.

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted material is illegal and punishable by law. No parts of this work may be reproduced, copied, used, or printed without expressed written consent from the publisher/author. Exceptions are made for brief excerpts used in reviews.

  eISBN 13: 978-1-988197-27-2

  Editor: Nina S. Gooden

  Proofreaders: Eli P. and Mia S.

  Cover Design © Jay Aheer

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, organizations, corporations, locales and so forth are a product of the author’s imagination, or if real, used fictitiously. Any resemblance to a person, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.