“Wanna help? Come hold the front door steady for me so I can nail these boards to it and keep it secure. The locksmith will be here in the morning.”
“Thanks. It’s been open so long today, I forgot about it not locking,” I say. “Thought I’d make some homemade chicken soup for dinner, are you hungry?
“Sure, that sounds great. I’ll help you.”
Once the door is good and secure, Sal and I venture to the kitchen. I hand him a bottle of wine and the corkscrew, then I take out onions, celery, and carrots from the fridge.
Sal pours us each some wine, we clink our glasses and take a sip. With wine still on his lips, he leans in and kisses me, slow and long. I taste the wine, feel the heat, feel my own heat building deep inside.
I feel his hands in my hair, then he moves them down my back…he presses me into him. His kiss got deeper. This breathlessness is to die for and I feel as though I’m melting from the inside out. Sal’s Kisses always feel like his life depended on it. I squeeze my fingers in his hard muscled arms and surrender to it. It terrifies me and yet it feels right.
When he lets me go, we stand there in each other’s arms, foreheads together and out of breath.
“Gracie.” His whisper is thick. I put my hands on his chest and back away, just a little.
I clear my throat. Whew! “What do you say we start that soup?”
His crooked smile touches my heart. “Give me a knife,” he says. “I’ll chop.”
“You like to cook?” I ask.
“Yeah, I know my way around a kitchen.”
“I can see that,” I say, “and other things as well.” He flashed me a big smile then shook his head.
“So tell me Sal, what else were you and your father fighting about earlier? I may not have understood all the words but anyone could tell there was more going on than you guys are sharing with me.”
“I figured you might have caught that,” he said, as he put some olive oil in a pre-heated pot with chopped garlic and tossed in the rest of the ingredients.
“Pop wanted me to back off Richard. He was afraid I was going to hit him and make things worse.” He put the knife and cutting board in the sink.
“I go to counseling to work on controlling my anger. I know I haven’t told you everything, yet.” He took a deep breath and exhaled. “Okay, here goes. I’ve seen a lot of crap. The military programs you like a machine; to fight, to kill. Quantico programs you in other countless ways. For lack of a better term, now that I’m out, I’m being deprogrammed. And, I’m making progress. But, when I see how Richard treats you, or when I think anything is going to harm you, I tend to loose it a little.”
He turns back to the pot and stirs at the mixture. I bring over the boxes of broth and some chopped chicken and dump it in. He continues to stir for a few minutes, then lowers the heat and puts the lid on.
I take out a loaf of Italian bread and began slicing it. Sal comes up behind me, puts his hands at my waist and turns me around.
“You’re quiet. What’s wrong?” He lifts my chin to look in my eyes.
“You could have told me this from the beginning,” I say. “I thought all your doctor visits were about physical therapy for your shoulder. Your father did mention there was some kind of counseling but I guess I really didn’t understand.”
“My shoulder is nothing. That heals, but my mind never turns off. I didn’t want to tell you a lot of this because I didn’t want to scare you away. And it’s not easy to talk about. ”
I look right into his brown eyes. “That wouldn’t have scared me, but hiding stuff about yourself does.”
“I’m sorry. My bad–you forgive me? I promise I will tell you everything in time when I can. I told you, you can trust me, Gracie.”
A five letter word that changes so much. Trust.
Part of me did trust him. Part of me wondered about this mysterious man who was falling for me. My spy guy - who speaks ten different languages, has killed for the government, has a gun, has lived all over the world.
I can’t imagine what he sees in me.
* * *
“Come sit here next to me–I brought something to show you,” he said, patting the couch cushion next to him. He picked up the small box marked PHOTOS and handed it to me. “Open it up.”
I lifted the lid and picked up all kinds of pictures. Some of Sal, and some with his mom. Sal with his brother Joe; “Look here,” he pointed, “that’s me at high school graduation.
“That’s you?” I laughed. “Look at your hair, you look like a Bon Jovi wanna be! Were you in a hair band?”
“Okaaayyy,” he said laughing, “I bet you got some big hair pictures yourself.”
“Oh I do, and I think I was a blonde in one or two of them.”
He showed me his Marine picture and pictures of his buddies when they were stationed over seas.
“Your father has pictures up in the house of your brother and your mom, but I only saw one of you as a young boy. He didn’t really ever talk about you, Sal. What happened? What went wrong with you two?”
Sal felt his smile melt away and he watched Gracie tense up. She was so fragile in a way….
“I’m sorry, you don’t have to tell me..I didn’t mean to…”
“No no it’s okay,” he cut in. If he got this out now, his worst nightmare would begin to heal. Would the truth cost him her heart? He took the box from her hands.
“My father doesn’t know, that, umm—around the time that mom got sick, I was in Bosnia. It was supposed to be a routine job, I was with the C.I.A by then. The mission was to get in, get our guys, blow up the base, get out.” Sal hesitated for a moment, glanced at Gracie. Took another breath.
“We were ambushed from behind. Our people on the inside gave us false information. These were people we thought we could trust. They pulled the rug out from under us. I led my team right into a pile of shit. I lost some really good men. Me and two others were captured. We got thrown in a prison. I was in that hell for a year. That’s why I didn’t make it home. It took a year to get us rescued, even then, they didn’t know if we were alive or dead. I spent another year back in DC getting medical and psychological treatment. I didn’t want my father to know while mom was sick, then dying. To tell them I was MIA, I couldn’t do it to them. He thinks I took an assignment because I couldn’t handle my mom dying. I would have been with her the whole time if I could. But I would rather him think what he thinks than for him to know I was captured and tortured.”
“Oh my god Sal,” I whispered. “I think you need to tell him. Your mom is gone now I think Antonio should know this. I can’t even begin to imagine what you have seen or been through. You are so lucky to be alive.”
He knew that now, though for many months he cursed every breath. “One night,” he said, “I was beaten within an inch of my life. I knew I had a concussion, maybe even a skull fracture. They threw me back in my cell and I passed out. Later, I dreamt of my mother; she begged me to hang on; said she was watching over me and everything would be okay. I swear that’s when I knew she must have passed on. I believe she was really there and she got me through. A few months later we were rescued.”
Sal looked at the pain on Gracie’s face and had to look away. He wasn’t a hero, he was just a survivor. But since meeting Gracie, he’d never been to glad that he did. She reached over to touch his arm.
“Hey, I’m not sure I know what to say. But I’m glad you told me–it must be hard to talk about.”
He leaned over Gracie and pulled her down beside him on the couch. He had to hold her. Needed to feel her arms around him.
“It’s getting easier now that you are part of my life, Gracie. You’re helping me in so many ways you don’t even know.”
“I think I understand, Sal. You are helping me too.”
They lay on the couch for a moment curled in each other’s arms, Sal’s chin resting on the top of her head. She reached up and touched his shoulder, feeling the little scar.
“Sal, can
I ask you one more thing?”
“You’re going to ask me how I got shot.”
“I was, but if you can’t, or maybe if it’s too much?”
Sal’s body vibrated as he quietly chuckled. “It’s fine, Princess, it’s really kind of stupid actually. We had a mission in Egypt–you might have seen it on the news–they had an uprising of sorts. Anyway, we get there to help protect our embassy. The rebels there started firing guns at each other in the streets. We were getting one of our ambassadors in a car to get him to a secure location, and that’s when I saw this insurgent come around firing his weapon. I jumped him and got hit by a stray bullet that actually bounced off the car and grazed my shoulder. The adrenaline at the time was so high I didn’t know I was hit until we finally got in the car and one of the other agents told me.” She sucked in her breath and he held her just a little tighter.
“Are you kidding me? Dear god, Sal! How do you go through all you have been through and you’re basically functioning everyday? No wonder you can’t sleep!”
“It’s getting better, Gracie,” he said. “And talking with you about it seems easier.”
She gently rubbed his chest. “So, what happened after you got shot?”
“They bandaged me up, sent me back to Quantico for evaluation. They know I’m good, but they think I’ve seen and done enough. They want me to retire. They will give me just about anything I want–its not much mind you–but I will be comfortable. It’s just a hard adjustment.”
Without words, she tightened her arms around him in response. He could feel something loosening inside. It’s her, he realized. She calms me deep inside.
Was she the healing he wanted so desperately?
CHAPTER 10
“What time is it?” I ask. Sal got up and helped me off the couch. “It’s about 9:30 or so he said, you should go up to bed, I’ll be right here.”
“Sal you don’t have to stay on the couch..”
“Gracie. He cut in. It’s all right. I want to be down here to watch the house. Whoever broke in knows too much, and they know you live alone. I’ll stay down here with Toby if he will stay with me. And you know I don’t sleep so well.”
“Okay fine. I..I just thought, umm- meant, there are other bedrooms and,..or,.. you could stay with me we don’t have to…”
Sal pulls me to him and gives me a slow deep kiss. When he pulled away he searched my face. “I’m staying down here,”
“Sal, we are adults, I meant just sleep.” He smiles and raises an eyebrow at me. He slowly lifted my chin and put his lips on mine. Our kiss is fire. I feel it burn all the way to my core. Sal’s hands explore my body. I start to tremble nervously as he kisses down the side of my jaw to my neck and collarbone. He could feel me quiver in his touch. When his lips and tongue made the slow journey back to my ear, he whispers, “You’re not ready.”
* * *
With Sal tucked in on the couch as my protector on the first floor, and Toby on the foot of my bed to keep me safe upstairs, I’m laying here thinking about everything that’s happened today. Who the hell broke in here and what are they looking for?
I can’t help but smile at the wonder that Sal and Antonio are to me. A few short weeks ago, I was so flat lined about my life I couldn’t see from one day to the next. But these two special men have made such a difference for me.
One is like a father to me, helping and guiding me with so much. And then there’s Sal, this wonderful handsome man who I’m falling for, who is taking his time with my heart and wants nothing but my trust. A man strong on the outside but so tortured on the inside.
I battle more tears as I consider his revelations this evening. I can’t begin to imagine what else he endured in that God forsaking prison. The thought wrecks me. I hope he can tell Antonio the truth soon about where he was and what happened to him. I think Antonio would want to know.
It’s amazing how close Sal and I are and how easy it is to talk to him. He’s so familiar to me that I still feel like I’ve known him all my life. Not for one minute did I experience anything like this with Richard….
Soon, the heavy pull of sleep enters my eyes, and the sound I hear is the rain beating on the house.
* * *
Looking out a window I see rain, I feel overwhelmingly sad. I have been crying. A door opens and closes. I look up. It’s Sal, but it doesn’t look like him, his hair is very short. And he has a mustache. He is wearing some kind of uniform, forest green jacket, narrowed leg trousers and copper tack buttons on his suspenders.
“Come, it’s time”, he says, the bus is set to arrive shortly. “Dry your eyes, my love. You know there is nothing I can do, it’s my duty. I will be back before you know it.”
“Where are they stationing you? Did they tell you?” I ask.
He leans over to pick up his hat off the bed, a U.S. military campaign hat with a light tan hat cord around the top.
“Yes, I’m being sent to the port of Saint Nazaire in France. I will be with the Sixteenth Infantry.”
I stand and put my arms around him. “I’m so scared. What will I do if I lose you?”
“All will be fine. Now be my strong, little Princess and see me off. I promise my love, I will come back to you.”
The familiar, suffocating feeling of sadness is over taking me. My vision gets so murky I can’t see.
I’m in complete darkness. Suddenly, I’m so cold. A biting cold wind blows dry autumn leaves around my high-button shoes and around my long skirt. I bundle my long overcoat tighter to keep the chill off.
Looking around, I’m on a busy city street. I hear a boy yelling, “PAPER, GET YOUR PAPER!” I hear people talking, something about bad news overseas.
“What’s happening? I cry out. A man with a handle bar mustache turns in my direction.
“Terrible news,” he states., “Seems the Germans raided the trenches on November the second. We lost most of the Sixteenth Infantry.”
I felt like I was electrocuted! I started to run as fast as the long skirt would allow, the tears running down my face.
“No! Dear God, No!” I cried as I ran. I couldn’t see where I was going, running in the biting cold wind.
I knew he was gone. The man I loved would not be coming home. Running, screaming, someone is trying to stop me.
“Let go!” I snarl, struggling to free myself.
“Gracie.” Someone has my arms and they won’t let me go. I want to run.
“LET ME GO!” I shriek.
“Gracie, wake up!”
“Sal?” I say, dry mouthed and out of breath.
“Shhh. You’re safe. You were having a nightmare–sit up.”
He reaches over to my lamp and turns it on. The light hurts my eyes for a second and then I realize the tears are real.
“Oh God, Sal, I had an awful dream.”
“No kidding. You scared the shit out of me, Princess. I was checking around downstairs with Toby and we heard you scream. I thought someone broke in again. I heard you yelling no over and over. You want to tell me about it?”
“No, not really,” I whispered. “I mean, it makes me sad.” As I say the words I start to cry, big hot tears.
“Gracie, what the hell did you dream? You must have had a bad nightmare. Shhh.. You’re safe. It’s okay,” he said, strong hands smoothing my hair away from my face. “Let me get you some water.”
While I wait I look down at Toby who’s wagging his tail and whining softly.
Sal is back in a minute with a glass of ice water with him.
“Here, drink this,” he says, handing me the glass.
I chug it down. It’s soothing on my slightly sore throat.
“You going to tell me what you were dreaming about that was causing you scream like that?” he asks as he sits on the bed next to me. Toby jumps up to join in on the conversation and rests his big furry head in my lap.
“Okay,” I huff. “I dreamt you went off to war and then I got news you weren’t coming back. But everything was so real. I
saw and felt everything as if I was there!”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. You know I fought in Iraq and Afghanistan, Gracie. But here I am - I came back! No more stories for you, they give you nightmares.”
“No, Sal, you don’t understand. It wasn’t now, it was World War I. I saw it. I saw your uniform and a..a.. date! I have a date! November second. You were with the Sixteenth Infantry.”
“That’s pretty specific Gracie,” Sal says cocking his head and frowning in confusion. “You are a vivid dreamer, but it was just a bad dream. Probably due to all of the things I told you earlier.”
I shake my head and clutch his hand. I need to make him understand that it’s more than a dream – but I don’t understand it myself.
“Sal, this isn’t the first one I had. I had a dream shortly after we met, and again you went off to fight in a war, and in that dream you were on a horse in blue coat.”
“What, like The Revolutionary War?”
“That’s the one!”
“Gracie, you knew I was military from the start. I’m sure you’re just having random dreams. They’ll probably go away in time.”
“These dreams freak me out. I truly feel as though I’m there - it feels so real. I have had regular dreams, these are more then dreams.”
“Because they’re nightmares,” he says, “they mess with your mind.” He gets a tissue, wipes at my face and takes the empty glass from my hand.
“Gracie, you’re shaking. Hey, look at me.” I shift my gaze to his. He gives me a smile. “Breathe, Gracie. Keep your eyes on mine. Take a deep breath and let it out, now breathe. Again with me–that’s it Gracie, innn…ooout. Keep it steady, breathe….”
In a few minutes I stop shaking and my heart doesn’t feel like it’s going to leap out of my chest. The tears are about done, too. He is so good for me…
“Thank you, Sal. You always know how to pull me out of the panic.”
A Soul Mate's Promise Page 10
