Ruthless

by Deborah Bladon

  He was the boy who came to the park with his eight-year-old sister. She was deaf. He couldn’t sign.

  Marti told me that I gave him hell for not learning how to talk to her.

  I schooled him on how to say hi, and bye, and most importantly I love you.

  “Bella,” he says my name as his hand falls on my shoulder to stop me. “Please let me explain. I’ve waited nineteen years to explain.”

  “You’re not him,” I say with my back to him.

  “I’m him,” he insists. “You had a baseball cap on your head. Mets, I think.”

  “Yankees.” I turn to face him.

  My brother loves the Yankees. The cap was a hand-me-down from him. I’m wearing it in many of the pictures my mom took of me when I was a kid. After the accident, I never saw it again.

  I’ve never mentioned the cap to Barrett.

  “You gave me shit for not knowing how to sign.” His hands move in unison with his words as he signs.

  I wish I could remember every detail of that day.

  “I don’t remember that.”

  “I had to take care of Bizzy that day. I couldn’t communicate with her.” He bows his head. “She couldn’t read lips. I couldn’t sign.”

  I’ve always known how to sign. My dad is deaf. In our family, you learn sign language at the same pace as you learn how to talk.

  “Your grandma gave her candy.” He smiles. “It was a red heart-shaped lollipop. She gave you one too.”

  My grandma always kept a bunch of candies in her purse for her grandkids and any kids who came into the restaurant.

  “That sounds like my grandma,” I whisper.

  “Bizzy signed something to her…thank you, I think.” He gazes at my face. “You jumped right into the middle of that, and you two hit it off. She must have told you I didn’t know how to talk to her because you turned to me and asked what kind of big brother I was.”

  I fight to hold back a smile. “I was taught it’s always best to say what you feel.”

  “Oh, you did.” He laughs. “I learned sign language after that day. I wanted to talk to my sister. I needed to talk to her after what happened on that street.”

  ***

  I can’t relive that day because I don’t remember it.

  All I know is what Marti told me.

  We all left the playground together. Bizzy had a ball she found at the park in her hands. I was still working on the lollipop my grandma had given me.

  Marti stood at the corner talking to Bizzy’s brother, or maybe it was at him.

  Whenever she tells me the story of that day, she says that he was quiet. In her eyes, he was embarrassed that he was taking care of someone he couldn’t talk to.

  Bizzy was bouncing her ball, harder with each slap of it in the pavement on the sidewalk.

  My grandma’s not sure of what happened next, but the ball flew into the street, and I took off after it to get it back for Bizzy.

  “Isabella?”

  I glance at Barrett before my eyes wander to a family that just arrived at the park. The parents are cradling large cups of coffee in their hands while their two little girls squeal in delight at the unoccupied play equipment.

  “Will you come with me to my apartment so we can talk more?”

  I study his face. “You have an apartment? Here in the city?”

  I thought he was moving across the country. If he’s not, how did he rent a place in New York this quickly? He just moved out of the penthouse yesterday.

  Holding a hand out, he nods. “I found the perfect place. I’d like to show you.”

  I drop my hand in his, trusting that this is a journey I need to take with him.

  Chapter 57

  Barrett

  A million questions are running through her head. I see it in her eyes.

  We didn’t speak on the subway, and the words we’ve exchanged since have been mostly about the neighborhood that I’m now calling home.

  Park Slope in Brooklyn.

  I open the weathered white wooden door of my apartment with the key in my hand. Swinging it open, I motion for her to step inside.

  She does so silently.

  I stand behind her watching as she glances around the two-bedroom apartment. It’s slightly bigger than the place I had in Chicago.

  The furniture is modest but functional.

  A simple black leather sofa sits in the middle of the room. In front of it is a rectangular glass coffee table.

  Near the window there’s a small circular table and two chairs.

  The extra bedroom has a double bed and a dresser. In the master, there’s a queen-size bed and one nightstand.

  I’ll donate all of it once my furniture from Chicago gets here.

  “You live here?” she asks with a glance over her shoulder.

  I nod in reply. “I moved in late last night.”

  Her eye catches on a note pinned to the wall near the door. “Is this a short term rental?”

  “Was.” I tug the note free of the pin. Crumbling it in my hand, I go on, “Felicity mentioned that she was renting out the apartment she lived in before she got married last year. I’m buying the place. We’ll start getting the details sorted on Monday.”

  “Your sister lived here?” She watches as I toss the paper into a wastebasket near the door.

  “I live here now.”

  The corners of her mouth tug up. “I like it.”

  “Me too.”

  Her gaze finally settles on my face. “You’re Bizzy’s brother?”

  I can’t imagine what’s running through her mind. We dove into a relationship oblivious to the fact that we shared a horrific experience in the past.

  Our future will make up for it. I’ll make sure of that each day I get to have on this earth with her.

  “Beatrice’s nickname when she was a kid was Bizzy,” I explain. “Your nickname was Dolly?”

  “Is.” She lets out a laugh. “Marti is the only one who calls me that. She says that I’m her little doll. Her Dolly.”

  Of course she is. They must share an unbreakable bond.

  “I’m sorry, Bella.” I choke back a rush of emotion. “I’m sorry I took off that day.”

  Her eyes narrow as she studies my face. “Please don’t say sorry.”

  “I wanted to find you after I took Bizzy home.” I exhale harshly.

  “My dad stopped me cold. He said he would call every hospital until he found you. He told me he spoke to your dad on the phone.”

  She shakes her head softly. “No. That didn’t happen. It couldn’t have happened.”

  I know that now. He finally admitted it this past week when he was trapped in a hospital bed with tubes attached to him.

  When I ran into his apartment with Bizzy in my arms, my father lost it. He screamed at me about responsibility and trust. Once my sister was calmed down, he left the room to check on the girl who had been hurt.

  He came back with a tale about the girl’s prognosis. He told me she’d never fully recover from her head injury, and her life was forever changed. He went on about all the anger that family felt toward me. I demanded to know their names so I could find them and get on my knees and beg for forgiveness, but he told me to shut up about it. With a wag of his finger in my face, he told me her father wished I had died on that street. They wanted to be left alone, so he shipped me back to Chicago thinking that I had ruined lives.

  The lie was to protect the only thing he valued in me. That was the promise of a future in football.

  He told me that he didn’t want me to ruin my chances of a scholarship to Michigan State by admitting my part in the girl’s injuries. It turned out my game wasn’t good enough to get me anywhere without him footing the entire bill for my education.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t find you sooner, Bella.” I hang my head. “I should have done more. I could have hired a private investigator. I checked the archives of the newspaper, but there was nothing about the accident.”

  She moves closer
to me. “Barrett?”

  When I look up, tears are clouding her beautiful blue eyes. I reach for her face, cradling it in my hands.

  “Thank you.”

  I wipe a tear from her cheek. “For what, Bella?”

  Her hands move to cover mine. “For saving my life. The doctor told my parents if you hadn’t pushed me out of the way, I wouldn’t have survived.”

  I stare at her, trying to process what she just said.

  “I’m sorry we didn’t find each other sooner too.” Her eyes lock on mine. “Marti looks for you everywhere. Whenever she passes a man with brown hair, or one walks into the restaurant, she studies his face. There’s been something she’s wanted to say to you since that day.”

  “What?” I croak out the word.

  “I’ll let her tell you.” She springs up on her tiptoes to kiss the corner of my mouth. “Whenever you’re ready, we’ll go see her.”

  Glancing down at the watch on my wrist, I realize it’s still morning. “Today?”

  “Today.”

  Chapter 58

  Bella

  The Saturday lunch service at Calvetti’s is always a treat. New people wander in as they scour this area of the city looking for a special place to eat.

  My grandma takes time to stand at the door to greet diners. With a shake of her hand, they’re welcomed into her restaurant as if it’s her home. She’s never turned anyone away even if they didn’t have enough money to pay for their meal.

  In those cases, she’d find something for them to do around the restaurant.

  Her heart is the most beautiful I’ve ever known.

  I walk in first with Barrett trailing behind me. He changed into a blue dress shirt that’s not tucked into his jeans. He shaved and combed his hair while I waited in his new apartment.

  It felt comfortable in a way the penthouse never did.

  I haven’t asked him about work yet, but that will come later.

  Now, it’s all about reuniting him with my grandma.

  “Marti,” I call out to her as she speaks to a table surrounded by people with graying hair.

  I know that crew. She plays poker with them one night a month. Rocco taught her everything she knows. She’s used her winnings to spruce up the kitchen.

  She turns to face me. The apron around her waist is spotted with red sauce. Her cheeks are pink from the heat in the kitchen. The smile that takes over her mouth warms me through and through.

  I’m about to give her the greatest gift in the world.

  “I have a surprise,” I say as she approaches.

  Taking me in her arms, she pats the center of my back. “Sit, Dolly. There’s lasagna. I made it myself.”

  “Grandma.” I take a step back, reaching for her hands. “There’s someone here to see you.”

  Her gaze flits across my face before it settles on the man standing behind me.

  I feel her hands stiffen in mine just as her breath catches.

  Tilting her head, she furrows her brow. “Dolly.”

  I let her go when I feel her tug away. Rounding me, she walks shakily toward Barrett. I turn to watch them.

  “Mrs. Calvetti,” he says her name with a tremor in his deep voice. “I’m so pleased to meet you.”

  She stops short of taking the hand he’s offering. Instead, she leans back on her heels.

  I move to stand next to Barrett so I can see the expression on her face.

  The tears flowing down her cheeks give it away. She knows.

  I have no idea what he looked like when she met him in nineteen years ago, but she recognizes him.

  Stumbling forward she falls into his arms. “My boy. It’s you. It’s finally you.”

  With his shoulders rocking from the sobs running through him, he holds tight to her. “It’s me. I’m here.”

  ***

  Once they parted, Barrett went to use the washroom. Marti took me in her arms as she watched him walk away.

  We’re seated now, at a table in the corner of the restaurant. My grandmother’s hands are holding tight to the hands of the man I love.

  “How did you find him?” She looks over at me. “Who helped you find him?”

  I smile at Barrett. “Do you remember that man I told you about? The one I met at the restaurant when I thought he was my blind date?”

  “Your boss?” Her nose scrunches. “The man you love?”

  “That man loves her,” Barrett interjects. “I’m that man.”

  Marti’s gaze volleys from Barrett’s face to mine and back again. “No.”

  “Yes,” we say in unison.

  “The boy who saved my Dolly will marry my Dolly?”

  “Woah.” I hold up a hand. “Grandma, slow it down.”

  “I’ll marry her,” Barrett says in a serious tone. “I want nothing more in this world than to be her husband.”

  That sets me back in my seat. “Barrett.”

  “Isabella.” He turns to face me. “I love you. I damn well know you love me because I saw you sign it to your parents last week.”

  “You know sign language?” Marti gives him her full attention again. “You didn’t know any back then.”

  “Your granddaughter gave me hell for that.” He reaches to take one of my hands in his, all while still holding tight to Marti’s hand. “I went home to Chicago and I studied. I needed to know how to talk to my sister.”

  “Bizzy.” Marti’s voice perks. “How is little Bizzy?”

  “Beatrice,” I correct her. “She goes by Beatrice now.”

  Ignoring me completely, Marti looks to Barrett. “How is she?”

  “She’s happy.” He beams. “She’s a teacher at a school in Brooklyn.”

  “You’ll bring her for lunch one day,” my grandma states. “I’ll cook something special for her.”

  “She’ll like that,” Barrett says without reservation. “I think she’ll like that.”

  A tear streams down Marti’s face again. Drawing in a deep breath, she swallows hard. “You risked your life to save Bella. If you hadn’t pushed her out of the path of that taxi, she would have…”

  “I’m fine, grandma,” I interrupt when I see emotion overtaking her. “I’m perfectly fine.”

  “Your head.” Barrett nods his chin toward me. “You hit your head hard, Bella. Your nose was bleeding. You were knocked out cold.”

  Marti moves to cover his hand with hers. “It was a concussion. That’s all. Some scrapes and bruises, but she was home two days later.”

  “I thought her injuries were more serious,” Barrett confesses with a sigh. “I was told that she’d never be the same again.”

  “This girl,” Marti begins before she turns to wink at me. “This girl of ours is one tough cookie. We were scared, but she showed us that she could handle anything.”

  I sit back and take in the moment. The man I love, and my grandma already share such a strong bond.

  “What about Bizzy?” Marti asks. “She ran onto the street after you. I saw her fall on her knees.”

  Barrett explained that to me on the way here. After he ran into the street to save me, Bizzy took off after him. She only made it a few inches before one of her sandals flew off and she tumbled onto her knees on the hard pavement.

  My grandma watched as Barrett grabbed my hand and swung me out of the way of the oncoming traffic. We fell to the street together, with his body shielding mine from the asphalt. My head hit, but the blow was softened because his arm was under my neck.

  Barrett said it happened so fast that by the time Marti was on the street, he was on his feet rushing to help his sister.

  “It was just a cut knee.” Barrett turns to face me. “It scared her though. She knew Bella was bleeding from her nose. That’s what she told my father when I got her back home.”

  Sorrow pools inside of me over what she must have felt and what Barrett’s been through since that day.

  “Everyone is good.” Marti brings her hands together to join mine with Barrett’s. “You two are in
love. One day I’ll have a grandbaby to love, and I’ll tell him or her about how brave their daddy and mommy are.”

  “Grandma,” I bite out her name with a smile. “This is very new.”

  “It’s not new,” she scoffs. “You met almost twenty years ago. You were meant to be together. Fate knows. I know. What more is there to know?”

  Chapter 59

  Bella

  I roll onto my back. “I love this bed.”

  “I love you,” Barrett reaches for my bare hip. “I love every inch of you, Isabella.”

  I snuggle closer to him.

  We stripped naked once we got back to his new apartment after sharing a plate of lasagna and a glass of wine. Marti wanted us to stay, but I told her we needed time alone.

  That brought her eyebrows up to her hairline. She whispered that I shouldn’t play it safe since she wants a grandson who looks like Barrett.

  I kissed her goodbye, and for the first time that I can remember, she didn’t tell me to look both ways before I crossed the street.

  Today, she told me to be happy.

  I can’t remember a time when I was this happy. I feel like my heart is going to explode out of my chest.

  If this is love, I want to experience it forever.

  “Tell me you love me, Bella.” Barrett runs a fingertip over my chin. “I’ve only watched you sign it. I want to hear it.”

  Turning to face him, I kiss him softly before I whisper the three words. “I love you.”

  “Louder.”

  “I love you,” I say with more volume.

  “Fucking scream it.” He laughs.

  “I love you,” I shout as loud as I can.

  He closes his eyes. “Who knew those words could feed a man’s soul?”

  I slide over his body, gripping his shoulders for leverage. “I thought you had left me.”

  His gaze locks on mine. “Never. I swear to you that will never happen. My heart is joined to yours for eternity. This is my forever.”