Page 50 of Mine to Protect

Arson was never officially suspected, but that doesn’t mean anything, not when you’ve got detectives, officers, and the FBI higher-ups on your payroll. This was a hit, one my father botched. No matter if he discovered Carlo’s plots against him, which I can only assume he did, he would never order the death of a child, at least I don’t think he would. Regardless, among the burnt remains of an old Victorian home meant to be Carlo’s private palace for plotting his attacks against my father, the bones of an adolescent girl were found. Knowing Carlo and his wife had a teenage daughter, my father may have influenced the medical examiner to say the deceased was Valentina without completing the appropriate DNA testing to determine otherwise. I can imagine the guilt he must have felt and his desire to move on from the incident as quickly as possible. So, he fast-tracked the investigation, no doubt paying off whomever necessary to make sure no one had any reason to ask questions or dig deeper into the tragic events. For all intents and purposes, Valentina Vitale was dead. Only, she wasn’t. Someone took her place. And her death, I can only assume, was the true catalyst for the war that has plagued my family ever since.

According to my father’s records, after the death of Carlo Vitale, his brother, Christio, was brought into my father’s inner circle, now residing in mine. It’s common practice, according to Josephine. To avoid a war, you transfer the wealth and position to the nearest kin, hoping and praying it’s enough to buy their silence and their loyalty. Well, it wasn’t. Because on that day in October 1992, unbeknownst to my father, Christio Vitale didn’t just lose his brother and sister-in-law. I believe he lost his soul. Because shortly after Christio stepped into his brother’s shoes, his wife and daughter, Veronica, left him, never to be seen again. Convenient or coincidence?

A teenage girl died in that fire. If it wasn’t Valentina, perhaps it was Veronica. Perhaps that is why Christio Vitale took up his brother’s efforts to destroy my family. Perhaps that is why he attempted to eliminate all evidence that would speak to his motive, unaware of the Blood Cellar. Perhaps that is why he used and abused Valentina, ultimately killing her and trying to frame my father for it. He blamed her and my father for what happened to his daughter. If he had access to my father’s hit book, enough to rip out an entire page, then he also would’ve had the opportunity to add an entry, explaining the previously unexplainable ink blot for the year Ariana’s mother was killed.

While the theory that Vitale’s daughter, Veronica, was killed in the hit that took out Carlo and his wife along with the idea that Vitale, Ariana’s great-uncle, is the same man who orchestrated the attack that killed my mother is just that, a theory, we were able to find hard evidence linking Vitale to the Irish mob, specifically the hit squad he sent after Cara and Sophia. We conducted the same background check on him as we did Parisi. Even in the short amount of time, we found property records and bank records connecting him to the apartment Ariana and her mother used to live in and a second location security camera footage shows Walsh and his men frequenting, at least before they were exterminated from my city. Christio Vitale is our man. He’s Ariana’s blood. And yet, it’s not her mother’s side of the family I fear will keep Ariana tethered to the darkness. No. It’s her father’s.

At that, I sink down under the covers, bringing myself face-to-face with a sleeping Ariana. I move my fingers to her hair and savor the silky feel as the strands slip through my fingers. She smells of warm amber and sweet vanilla. I wish I could bottle her scent, wash my sheets in it, and bathe in it. Alas, it would only be a painful reminder of the woman I can’t have.

After discovering Vitale’s guilt, Gio took off to plan a course of attack while Cassio and Sophia retreated for some much-needed rest. But Ariana refused to sleep, knowing that a look into her mother’s past might reveal the identity of her father. She passed out before she could identify him. So, I brought her here, unwilling to part from her, and I continued the search. For nearly thirty years, Ariana’s father has believed Valentina was dead, and so too was his unborn child. The moment the two of them learn of each other, they won’t tolerate being separated again. So, where does that leave me? How am I supposed to protect her from the Mafia when her own father is Mafia? There’s a part of me that wants to use this revelation as an excuse to remain in her life. But the moment I think it’s possible, I am transported back to the night when I came face-to-face with my mother’s lifeless body. She lay next to me on the ground, her hair sprawled out much like Ariana’s is now. As the images flash through my mind, I pull my hand from Ariana’s hair and roll onto my back as tears drip down my cheeks. Though, I am quickly drawn back to her as Ariana begins to shake.

“Hey, baby.” I gently try to wake Ariana, but she is too consumed by her nightmare.

“No. No. No!” she screams as she slings her arm into my chest. Writhing against the sheets, she fights an imaginary demon. Only, he isn’t so much imaginary as he is a thing of her past. I swear to God, I’ll kill him.

“Hey, Ariana, Ariana.” She turns away, and I wrap my arms around her and pull her to me. Her back rests against my chest as I restrain her arms and whisper in her ear, coaxing her out of his grasp and into mine. “You’re safe. You just need to wake up. Wake up, baby.” Slowly, her frantic movements stop, and her breathing slows. Small beads of sweat dot her forehead as she finally opens her eyes. “It’s okay,” I whisper. “I’ve got you. I’m right here.”

Once I’m sure she is alright, I loosen my grip and remove my arm from her waist. Only, she stops me before I do. Ariana spins to face me, directing me to keep my arm wrapped tightly around her. As her eyes meet mine, our faces only inches apart, I don’t believe my heart has ever beat so fast. “Don’t let me go,” she says then, and once more my throat aches with emotion. I can’t. I can’t do this. As much as I want to comfort her, I won’t make promises I can’t keep. I won’t lead her to believe there’s a future between us when I know there isn’t. There can’t be.

“But I have to.” With my truth, cold tears escape my eyes onto my warm cheeks, leaving an icy trail in their path. It’s a painful reminder of what my life before Ariana felt like and the cold loneliness I’m destined to return to. We’ve been playing this game of push and pull for months now. But it’s time for it to end.

As my words settle on her, they land differently than all the times before. I’ve told her from the start that she wouldn’t find happiness with me. I’ve told her she shouldn’t care about me, that this isn’t a fairy tale. We both knew this would never work, that every touch, every look, every time we tried to ignore the fact that we are from two completely different worlds we were playing with fire. And yet, knowing this would end doesn’t make it hurt any less now that it has. Her lips quiver, though only for a moment before she presses them into a flat line, doing her best to conceal her emotions. It’s an act we should both be better at by now.

“I’m sorry,” I say, and all the words I’ve been keeping inside rip from me. Maybe I’m wrong to say them. Maybe hearing them will only make this harder for her. But I can’t spend the rest of my days apart from her without her knowing how I truly feel, what she truly means to me. I can’t give her much, but I can at least give her that, assuming she even wants it. “Ariana, I…” I bring my hand to her cheek as she moves hers to mine, wiping away the remnants of my tears. “I love you. I’m in love with you.” As the words cross my lips, Ariana gasps in surprise, and her eyes fill with tears of her own. I wipe them away as they fall, pulling her tighter against me with my other arm still wrapped around her. “Maybe I shouldn’t say it. Maybe I should keep it inside. But I…”

“No,” Ariana says, shaking her head. Her gaze follows her movements as she moves her fingers from my cheekbone lower and lower, raking them across my stubble until she reaches my lips where she rests her thumb. Her touch makes my insides tighten yet my heartbeat slow. “No. I want to hear it. I want to know that this wasn’t all in my head.” As Ariana’s eyes meet mine once more, in them, I find the same pain of heartbreak I’ve grown too accustomed to.

“It wasn’t. I promise you, it wasn’t.” As tears drip down her cheeks, I wipe them away with my thumb while Ariana moves her hand from my face to my hip. “The night we met, I wanted to shield you from this world, from the pain it brings. In a way, maybe I even wanted to shield you from me, because my track record with women is nothing short of tragic. I was harsh and cold and unsympathetic.”

“You were trying to protect me before you even knew me,” Ariana whispers.

“Yeah, I guess I was. But you weren’t having it. You were stubborn, willful, independent, and capable, as proven in your pursuit of me all those weeks before Edgar Walsh brought us even closer. You promised me you’d be a thorn in my side, that you’d pester me until I complied, and you were and did. But you were also the best part of my day, a bright light shining through the darkness.” As I speak, I move my hand from her cheek to her neck. The warmth of her skin tickles my insides, which only makes this moment that much more painful. “By the time you came to me with the information from Edgar Walsh, I was already falling for you, but the days since then have only intensified my feelings. Since my mother’s passing, this place has never really felt like home. But you changed that. You brought life back into these walls just like you did my heart. From wrestling to cooking to dancing to just talking—one simple moment with you is better than a million without you.”

“Then why are you doing this? Why won’t you give us a chance, Alister?”

“Ariana—”

“I know your concerns. I know all the reasons why we shouldn’t be together.Trust me.I’ve thought about it and wrestled with it as much as you have. But I am willing to take the risk. I’m willing to have my heart broken by you. I’m willing to put myself in the line of fire if it means that I can finally feel loved. And not just by anyone, Alister, but by you. I want to be loved byyou. I want to spend my days and nights with you. I want to be the one you talk to, the one you dance with, the one you argue with, the one you trust to help you carry the burdens that no one else sees. And not just for one night or one week or even one month. I want you, Alister. I know I shouldn’t, but I do. And if you feel the same way, then why can’t we at least try? Because I am not some fragile wallflower that needs protecting every minute of every day. I have lived through Hell, Alister. I have gone up against the Devil more than once and I’ve survived. I know there are certain unique perils that come with being by your side, but I can handle them.I can.And if I can’t, then at least I lived and I loved. Because before you, my life was filled with the same darkness you speak of. So, please, please just give us a chance to have the happiness we both deserve.Please.”

Ariana pleads with me with her words, with the way her eyes widen in anticipation, with the way her fingers dig into my skin. She holds her breath as she waits for my response, and I savor every second, just as surprised by her admission as she was by mine. I’ve felt the connection between us for weeks and I’m sure she did to. But to finally have it validated with such powerful words, it’s… It means everything to me. It’s as if she has reached inside me and wrapped her hand around my heart. She alone holds the power to protect it and destroy it. But there is one power she does not hold over me. Even Ariana cannot make me forget the way my mother was taken from me, then my sister. She cannot make me forget the role I’m forced to play and the dangers that come with it. My love for and loyalty to Ariana is unquestionable and unsurpassable. But it is because I love her that I cannot be with her.

I loosen my grip around her waist as I surrender to my fear and the weight of the crown I’m forced to wear. “I’m not willing to take the risk, Ariana. Not with you.” I push myself up and rest my back against the bed frame. I take a deep breath. With a small amount of distance between us my self-control has a minute to replenish itself. Though Ariana soon adjusts, sitting up opposite me. There’s a rigidness to her that lets me know she’s hurt, and she’s done. I nod to myself. As disappointment drains her, I feel her hold on my heart disappear. Left in her place is an empty pit that will certainly never be filled.

“I have lost so many people, Ariana. And I know I’m supposed to be strong and not let it get to me.” At that, I smile a sad smile. “In my world, weakness gets you killed. So, I…I pretend like I’m okay, like what happened to my sister and to my mother before her has only made me more dangerous, more lethal. And maybe it has. But it’s also left me terrified, anxious, and empty. And I wish I could break free from it. I wish I could flip a switch and be willing to take the risks you are. Because I’m not afraid of loving you, Ariana. I’m not afraid to tell you how I feel, to hold you in my arms, to open my heart and soul to you. I’m afraid of the world bearing witness to such love, because I know it will stop at nothing to rip it from me, to ripyoufrom me. And that I won’t survive.”

I shake my head as Ariana moves her hand to my shin. She offers me a comforting touch this time, rather than one filled with longing. “If protecting you means I must give you up before someone can take you from me, then that is what I’ll do. As hopeless and weak as it sounds, I…”

“You are hopeless, Alister. But…you are not weak.” As Ariana moves her hand up and down my shin, softly, slowly, gently, she says nothing more. I suppose because there is nothing left to say, but there is still so much between us that has yet to be explored. Perhaps it’s better this way, and yet knowing my memories of Ariana are all I’ll have to cling to once the sun rises only adds to my heartbreak. For they are far too few.

“Mi tesoro.” Ariana’s voice lifts the hairs on my arms and pulls me back to her with bated breath. Slowly, she moves toward me, caressing my leg. Her lips part as her eyes graze my body, at least what she can assess through my gray sweatpants and white tank top. There’s something about the way she looks at me and the way her fingers dig into my thigh as she moves them higher and higher that makes a certain appendage swell, despite her touch ceasing just inches from where it fills the crotch of my pants.

“Yes,mi amore?” I ask, my throat raw. Though, for once, not with emotion, rather, anticipation. It’s then that Ariana brings her hand to my abs and continues her alluring caress up my body to my neck and, eventually, to my cheek. As she runs her fingers across the stubble on my face again, I close my eyes and take a deep breath, one I hope will settle the carnal craving building inside me. I want this.God, I want this. But she has to make the first move. To claim her body after breaking her heart would rival my most chilling crimes. But if she wants me to, this is a request I can wholeheartedly meet. I open my eyes and find a softness in hers, an acceptance of our tragic end, and yet, a longing still for something more.

“I once told you there was never any hope for me. I was always fated to be hurt by a monster. Perhaps there was never any hope for us either. But that doesn’t mean we weren’t destined to love one another, destined to touch one another, to devour and claim one another.” As she speaks, she leans forward, bringing her lips so close to mine I can practically taste her. Though they do not touch. In this position, her chest presses against mine and her brunette locks drip softly over my shoulder as her sweet scent fills my every pore. Still, I do not touch her, because I know once I do, I won’t be able to stop.

Finally, she says, “Give me tonight, Alister. If the world cannot bear witness to our love, then love me in the dark without inhibition. Touch me. Do everything with me. So that when the sun rises and we are forced to bottle our feelings once more, I,we, may have this moment to cling to—a moment to last a lifetime.”

At that, Ariana brings her lips to mine, and they are just as soft as I always imagined them to be. She tastes like sweet vanilla and sugared caramel, which only makes me want to kiss her more, bite her,devourher as she said. But is this really wise? Can we so easily wake to a new day and pretend this night never happened? Then again, I don’t think the purpose of tonight is to forget. It’s to remember—remember every caress, every embrace, every moan, every whimper, every laugh, every swear. I want those memories as much as the air I breathe, if not more. And so, without a moment’s more delay, I give in to her kiss.

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