The last people standing at the gravesite was Gio and me. We were standing side by side not saying anything, just looking on at the freshly laid dirt on top of the grave with flowers everywhere.
We stood there for hours, hours until finally he took my hand and led me to his car.
Then not talking he dropped me at home in silence.
It wasn’t until I got inside and up to my room that the tears came. Tears I should have cried throughout the day flooded my cheeks. Tears I should have cried as I watched the pallbearers carrying Marshall’s coffin, tears that should have happened at the church, and more tears I should have cried at the grave side.
I cried and cried, but there was no one to comfort me.
Earlier when I’d gotten out of the car with Gio, I knew I’d lost him. He’d driven off and didn’t look back. I’d lost him and Dad just left me at the cemetery. Left me in his distress, left me there to find my way home when I was so weak.
A day passed and I had to find Gio.
I just needed to hear what he was planning, hear what he was feeling.
When I got to his house, I found him in his garage packing up all his stuff.
I walked right in, he stopped packing the box on his work top to look at me.
“Where are you going?” I asked. I didn’t mean to sound so demanding, but I’d had enough of being ignored and avoided.
“I’m leaving.”
I was used to him going off to Chicago, but he never usually said it like that. We’d been together for just over two years, seeing each other in secret. Keeping that secret from Dad and Marshall. Always, when Gio went away, he’d tell me where he was going, when he was coming back, and that it wasn’t really that long until we next saw each other.
“Are you going to Chicago?”
“Eventually.”
My chest tightened. “What does that mean? When are you coming back?” I was afraid of the answer that I saw in his eyes.
He shuffled around to face me and held my gaze. “I’m not. I’m not coming back. I’m selling the house and I’m not coming back.”
I shook my head in complete disbelief. “What do you mean? What about us? What about … me?”
“No …”
I think I preferred it when he wasn’t looking at me, because his stare boring into me now was unbearable.
“No?”
“Lyssa, there is no us. No us. We’re done.”
“Gio, what are you saying to me? How can you say that?” How could he say it just like that?
“Lyssa, look, we were just a thing. A thing I shouldn’t have encouraged. I’m older than you and I should have known better.”
“That’s bull shit, we’ve never cared about age before. It was never a factor.”
“Stop it.” He snapped and bared his teeth like a wild animal waiting to lunge at its prey. “Fucking stop it and listen to me. We’re done. I’m leaving. You need to wake up and see reality. I can’t be with you.”
A lump formed in my throat. It lodged there and I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t breathe and I couldn’t think straight other than to speak my heart. Speak the words that were always in my heart when I looked at him.
“I love you.” The words fell from my lips. “I love you, Gio.”
He just looked at me, he just … stared like I had spoken some foreign language he didn’t understand.
“No. You are little more than a child and you don’t know what you’re saying.” He furrowed his thick brows and the dimple in his left cheek I usually found sexy became visible when he smirked.
My blood heated up at his words like he’d just slapped me in my face.
Child.
“If you thought I was little more than a child why did you come to the lake house?” I retorted. “Why would you do that? Why? Why didn’t you just leave me alone?”
I may have been the child he was calling me, but I thought you could look at someone and know when they loved you. It was how I felt when I was with him. Not just the last two years when we got intimate, but always.
“You misunderstood, or maybe … maybe I just liked sleeping with you too much.” He paused and something dark flashed in his eyes. A cold look in his brown eyes that I’d never seen before. “You have no experience with men, if you think me coming to the fucking house meant anything.”
It was like the rug of reality pulled out from under my feet and I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
He was right though I didn’t have any experience with men, because he was my first; my only. He was the first man to touch me, the first and only man I’d ever been with. So, this was on me and it was like I was talking to a stranger who I had mistakenly thought I knew.
Desperation took over, because this was the last thing to break me. It was the very last straw that would break me. Crushing my soul and destroy all that I was.
“Gio, how can you talk to me like this? I wouldn’t have the experience you’re talking about, because I wanted you. I just wanted you. Only you, because I love you.” That was the third time I’d told him that and he didn’t return the sentiment.
Instead he shook his head again. “I don’t love you Lyssa. I’m not that guy, I’m not that guy who ties himself down to one woman and you should have known not to expect anything from me. You know what I’m like.”
I brought my hand up to my mouth to stop from crying. It was all I could do during this whole time, just cry.
“You wanted to take me to Chicago, you wanted to go back to Browns with me.”
“Baby doll, I said that while we were in bed. I said what you wanted to hear. Lyssa please, we’re all going through a bad enough time as it is. Don’t make it worse.”
The way he was talking, the things he said … I just couldn’t believe it.
This couldn’t be the same guy, yet it was. The truth of this reality was that Marshall was dead, it also apparently held this man before me who was throwing salt on my open wound.
I had to know one last question, and that would be it.
I had to know.
“When we were apart … were you with anyone else?” It was the question. Trivial and meaningless in the grand scheme of things, but I had to know.
I had to hear him tell me.
“What do you mean? That’s such a fucking vague question.”
Now he was being spiteful and belittling me. He must have known full well what I meant. “Gio, did you sleep with anyone else? Did you have sex with anyone else?”
The darkness came back in to his eyes. “Of course I did I –”
He didn’t get to finish; I raised my hand and slapped him hard across his face. Slapped him so hard that it left a mark.
No more, no more shit. He could go. He could fuck off to wherever he was going and leave me alone.
I walked away from him, jumped in my car and drove away crying so hard I could barely see to drive.
My mind numb and empty just like my soul.
I hated him. I hated all of it … everything. I cursed the day when I first kissed him at the lake house.
That was all me, and clearly this whole thing was me the whole damn time.
A month passed and the numbness continued.
It got even worse when I found out I was pregnant.
Chapter 6
Gio
* * *
Present day …
I forgot that Philly could be on the chilly side at night, especially at this time of year.
The gentle breeze caressed my cheek as I walked down main street. Paul’s bar was just up ahead.
I’d wrestled with the idea of showing my face to Lyssa and Paul. I had decided on the bar. It was a public place, that could tamp down a person’s anger and force them into a spot where they could potentially see some reasoning.
I wasn’t here to make any form of amends. I was just … simply checking in on them.
Staying away was eating at my insides and making me lose focus. I thought, fuck it, get it all out of my system. J
ust see them that was all I was doing.
I spent the whole of yesterday and most of today going over the list I had made for Gibbs and all of the evidence he’d found.
I had a good read of the coroner’s report. I wasn’t any kind of expert, but I just wanted to see if anything stood out. I’d read only what was necessary before. It was enough to give me the picture of what had really happened. Something like that though needed a closer look.
What stood out to me was that Marshall had been injected with a lethal dose of ricin. It was a poison that was toxic on its own even in small doses. We saw it being one of the main methods of torture, the real nasty kind that crime families used.
The poison worked by shutting down the respiratory system and the organs. You’d die within hours from a small dose and it would be painful. I’d seen guys die from it. The quantities I saw in Marshalls report must have killed him quickly and he would have absolutely gone through some serious pain.
What stood out to me was the fact that it was injected in him. Only a certain type of people could get their hands on something like that, and I was one of them. It was the type of thing you’d have to be told about to know anything at all about it. You’d know the guy who supplied that shit, because only someone like a boss or someone higher would know the hook up for that guy.
On that basis alone, I was wholeheartedly in agreement now with Gibbs’ recommendation to focus on the note. The note would have been for someone with the power to stop whatever it was Marshall saw. So, my question was who in Philly had that kind of power to stop someone who could get their hands on toxic doses of ricin specifically in injection form. Who was it, how did Marshall know someone like that and I not know them, and did the person still have that kind of power?
If this was Chicago, I knew the answer would lie with one of the mob crime families. I was pretty certain it would be the same here.
Philly had the same set up and if it was them, God help them. I was no one when I first left here. Eight years ago, I wasn’t anybody. Now I would be the harbinger of death to the motherfucker who thought he could get away with Marshall’s death and pass it off as a gang crime.
We’d definitely see about that.
I stopped in front of the bar, hesitant on going inside. If Paul still worked the bar, I wouldn’t know what his reaction would be. The last time we actually had any interaction he had punched me, threw me out of his house and told me to leave his little girl alone. Worst of all he blamed me for Marshall’s death. He blamed me as if I didn’t feel bad enough as it was.
The whole altercation broke me down in a way I couldn’t describe to anybody.
Still what had killed what was left of my soul was the lie I told Lyssa.
Fucking hell, I didn’t know I could be that good of a liar. I had looked at my girl, my baby doll and lied to her. I had practically told her I was using her for sex, was never serious about her, and screwed anyone I could get my hands on when she was away.
I was so disgusted with myself that I could hurt her the way I did when she was already consumed by her distress over Marshall. When she told me she loved me, what I really wanted to say was: ‘I love you too, come away with me.’
The damage was done though, and I just hoped it was worth it. I hoped she got with a nice guy who didn’t do dirty dealings, did nothing to put her in danger. I imagined her teaching the high school kids she had wanted to teach and doing all sorts of wonders. I wished for that for her.
As I opened the door to the bar, that vision I had for her faded, because fuck there she was behind the bar serving drinks.
There she was looking better than a million dollars. I’d seen many millions in cash in my life time so I knew.
Eight years looked real good on her, the same baby doll. She just looked more like a woman now in that midnight blue camisole top that showed off her fully rounded breasts, the curve of her waist, and the perfection of her.
Her raven hair was bone straight, parted in the center so it showed off her delicate features. She still had her large jade eyes surrounded by thick dark lashes that fanned over high exotic cheekbones.
Damn ...
Damn me, and fuck my life …
Eight years and I still felt it. I still felt the same way about her, looking at her and wanting her. She was still the girl I wanted to keep for myself.
Seeing her the other day at the parking lot was just a glimpse and we were so far away. This was closer, and instead of staying away like I knew I should I found myself moving toward her. Moving to her like I was being pulled along on a string.
I got just paces away before she turned with a bottle of Jack D’s in her hand and saw me.
She saw me and froze.
It was too late to leave like the coward I was though. I couldn’t do anything besides face her.
Those jade green eyes staring at me like she was trying to figure me out. Almost like she was trying to work out if it was real or not. It was the same way I looked at her.
Her gorgeous lips parted as she continued to stare at me. The whole thing was so intense the man who she’d been serving had to look at the two of us, from me to her.
His look broke the contact and she smiled at the man as she handed him the beer.
He moved away and went over to the table in the corner.
She was already looking at me when I looked back to her.
She looked even more beautiful than I had remembered. How could I have forgotten that, this was what that cute kid looked like at twenty-eight years old.
“Hi,” I said. I thought I should be the first to speak since I was just staring and it was me who came in here.
“Hi.” Something hardened in her eyes, giving her a guarded look. “Long time no see.” She tried to smile. It was just the beginning of a smile that appeared at the corners of her mouth, but it disappeared as quickly as it appeared.
“Long time. How’ve you been?”
Her brows raised and this time she actually did smile. It just didn’t reach her eyes. “Fine, as you can see.” She shrugged and motioned to all around her.
The place was packed which was always a good sign.
“You work here?”
“Yeah turns out I’m more of a business woman than what I thought. Better than Dad.”
“You don’t teach?”
She held my gaze and looked uneasy at the question. “Teaching didn’t really work out. But hey, I’m good. This is a good thing for me, running the bar and being boss.”
Lyssa had wanted nothing more than to be a teacher. She wanted to teach English literature. She got a scholarship to Browns, because she graduated top of her class. She had the highest GPA in her freshman year. There was no way all that passion just didn’t work out in one way or another for her to pursue her career goals.
“Okay, well that’s great.”
“So, what can I get you?”
I almost forgot that I was at the bar and people around me were placing orders with the other two bartenders milling around her.
It was the way she asked. It was so businesslike, like she didn’t know me, or like we’d just met.
The last thing she did when we’d last saw each other was slap me. I deserved it just not for the reason she thought. I deserved it for the lie.
“Just water.” I told her, and on that she grabbed a glass, filled it with water and handed it to me.
She was about to move away like I was just some stranger or a customer she was serving, but I reached for her hand and grabbed her.
“Lyssa,” I began, but I didn’t know how to continue. I didn’t know what to say. What could I say after an eight year absence? After the way we parted last time I had no right to even touch her. I should be grateful the doll showed me any kind of pleasantry at all. I reluctantly released her arm. She gave me one last look then moved down the bar to serve a woman who’d been waiting.
I watched her, like an idiot my eyes followed her for a good twenty minutes, just staring. I had the n
erve to call her a child that last time we spoke. I knew it was a damn slap in the face, and what was worse was I told her she lacked experience with men. What a fucking thing to say knowing that the only guy she’d been with was me.
I glanced down at her hand and didn’t see a wedding ring. Not married, didn’t mean she wasn’t with somebody though.
She walked right past me carrying a tray of drinks one of the other bartenders had prepared.
Watching her move over to a table full of important looking guys gave me a full view of her waist down.
Yup, she was still perfect. Better than perfect because she’d grown into her womanly curves that carried a different kind of sexy that could get a guy in trouble, or not pay attention when he should have been.
Dante would have laughed me to scorn, because nothing ever got past me. Put that woman in front of me though and it dimmed my awareness.
One of the guys at the table grabbed her arm, but I’d been too busy staring at her ass to see when he made his move. What I saw was her wrenching her arm free from him. I didn’t even see when she set the drinks on the table.
She gave him a stiff smile. He did it again and pulled her into his lap.
That was when I stood, my body acting on its own accord.
“Stop it.” She winced when he slipped his arm around her waist. “Leave me alone.”
The others –six of them –laughed and the guy opposite them reached for her as well.
I might have been able to let it slide to some extent and rough them up a little if they were drunk, but they weren’t. They were all fucking sober in my eyes and no way was I going to sit here like a fucking schmuck and allow them to treat her like that.
I marched over there and stopped just in front of the table. The one who was holding her saw me first, the guy next to him looked like he might have recognized me. But not from Philly, he looked at the cross tattooed on my neck and his eyes bulged.
Good, that was fucking good. If I’d brought Dante who equally had a cross on his neck the guy would have known for fucking certain who we were.
Remember When We Page 5
