Bellissimo Rilascio (Beautiful Release): The Family Series #3 (12 page)

He squeezes his eyes closed, “No, baby, I don’t. What should matter to you is the reason it’s gone. After Turks and Caicos, I never thought we’d be here. I thought for sure Dakota had won you back.”

I interrupt him not wanting what we are embarking on tainted with those memories. “Just tell me, please.”

“A few associates from another family came in shortly after I got back. Needed a place to launder their money.” All the air leaves my lungs. Anything but this.

“Please, tell me you didn’t.” I’m pleading. Begging him to tell me anything but this.

“I allowed it. It was stupid, and I have no excuses for it. It was reckless and the biggest mistake.”

“So, are you a part of this organization?” My stomach rolls. If I had eaten anything it would be all over his carpet at the moment.

“No. I wasn’t a part of their dealings. Just laundered money for them. The wedding . . . well when Lynsey came to tell me you were in the hospital, all I could think about was losing you, and I was lost. I was blinded with being lonely. They came knocking, and I turned on blinders to my morals. To what you would have wanted for me. My life without you had no meaning. I thought you were with him, and I lost my mind for awhile. When I learned you weren’t together I tried backing out, regretting the decision, but you know they don’t let you go until they’re ready.”

His thumb and forefinger reach my face and gently lift my chin, his stare penetrating mine, his messages all mixed. I know I hurt him, I know I allowed him to believe the worst and for almost a year I’ve had no contact. Here he is, still loving me, but this mistake isn’t one I can live with. I’ve had that life, the consequences of other people’s choices, and it’s not one I’m willing to go back to. “Say something. Anything, please, Bianca.”

I can’t. My voice frozen, my fears ever-present. I lean my head back, causing his fingers to slip from my face, refusing to look at him. I can’t bear to see the pain swirling in his irises. I’ve caused too much hurt for us. I step back and turn to escape. I take one step, and my limbs freeze. Not cooperating.

I can’t leave. I pushed him away once, denied what I needed. What I wanted. I let him suffer, and I suffered along with him. Too stubborn to admit it. I turn back to him, lift my chin, and meet him gaze for gaze.

“Are you totally clear of them?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“My dad. I was miserable. I believed I had lost you, and when Lynsey told me you weren’t with him, a piece of me was rekindled. I realized how easily you could be hurt by my association with the family.” He drops his head, closing his eyes. His voice lowers as he continues, “When she told me, I immediately tried to sever ties. That wasn’t the way they wanted things to go, so I called my dad. I flew over to the islands to see him. I needed his help and couldn’t risk you. He called in some favors, reached out to some old friends. I had to sign the club over to them, but it was worth it.”

I process his words. He made a mistake. It could have cost him his life, and it was all due to the pain I caused. I can either punish him or believe in him as he has done for me so many times. “I love you. I don’t know what our future holds, and I know I don’t have the right to ask any concessions of you, but that’s a line I won’t cross. No Mob. No choices that aren’t ours together. I need you to promise me.”

“Bianca, I’ll promise you whatever you want. You can ask anything of me, and I’ll grant it. Your happiness, your safety, those are the only things that matter. You. Me. Us.”

“I like the sound of it. You. Me. Us.”

“Get used to it, baby. That’s the only mantra you need to know from this day forward.”

“I feel like this is too easy.”

“Because we are meant to be.
Destino.”

“What now?”

“We start over, but skip forward.”

“You make no sense.”

“We take a vacation.”

“I’m not sure my schedule is open.” I smile at him to show I’m teasing.

“I’ll clear it for you. Mexico. Seven days. You. Me. Us.”

“I’m game.” The butterflies in my stomach aren’t from fear, but excitement. “We aren’t starting all the way over, right?”

His laughter is music to my ears. It’s very own beat dancing throughout my body. “Whatever do you mean?”

“I mean…will we be sharing a room? I have so much to tell you; we have a lot to talk about, but I’m ready.”

“Ready?”

“For all of us. All of it.” His lips claim mine, and the answer is loud and clear.

Chapter Sixteen

Heath

Her mouth under mine is like the Holy Grail. I thought it was a pipe dream for us to ever be together like this again. I’m not naïve enough to think we don’t have obstacles in front of us, but I’d climb mountains for this girl. Her lips yield to mine. I feel the whisper of her breath igniting me like a candle. Heat furls from my chest, encompassing my body, in every limb, I feel her. Our mouths moving in sync, a promise of what is yet to come. It’s as if our lips, tongues, and mouths were the way to express the emotions surrounding us. A kiss stops being a kiss at some point. Tonight it became a promise.

A vow of our future.

An oath of forgiveness.

A testament to love.

Something new and different was being formed. Nothing like our past, this kiss spoke of desire, freedom, and life . . . salvation. I moaned deep in her mouth, she returned the gesture full force. I hated separating from her, but it needed to be done before things went too far. We have a lifetime for this but tonight I need to hear what changed, why she chose me. I have to understand what she went through. Just remembering her that last day was like ice water being tossed over my body.

Gently holding her face, I place a few kisses over her eyes, her cheeks, her jaw and pull back. “Baby, we need to stop.”

“You always do this, Heath. Why? I thought you wanted this. I thought we both did.”

“More than anything. I have questions.”

“Of course you do, every fucking male in my life thinks my brain holds the answers to cure Ebola.”

“What other men, Bianca?” My body stiffens, and I prepare myself to hear
his
name.

“My therapist. Slow your roll, Caveman.”

“Therapy? I can only imagine.”

“Oh, I’m his favorite.”

“He told you that?”

“Not in so many words, but I’m good at reading people.” The smirk she wears sets me off. My head tosses back, and I laugh from deep within. “What? He even stocks Airheads for me. Well there was this one time he didn’t but I fixed that.”

“I’m sure you did. God, I’ve missed you.”

“Then why’d you stop kissing me?”

“You know why.”

She sighs and rolls her eyes. She turns from me and walks to the couch, kicking off her shoes en route, and I don’t bother picking them up. I know it’s her test for me. I hate how she kicks off her shoes every damn place, but I’m willing to trip over every pair of shoes from now until the day I die if I have her. Looking at her, I see her eyes twinkle in mischief, just waiting for my words of reprimand. Guess she isn’t so good at reading people after all. “Not gonna say a word.”

Her smile lets loose followed by her laughter, and I close my eyes, reveling in it. “If this is gonna be an all-night conversation, I’m going to have a list of demands.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

She shrugs. “Coffee. Sweats. Chocolate.”

“I can do the coffee and sweats, but I don’t have any chocolate here.”

“How are we even compatible?”

“Honestly, I wasn’t expecting you at my door tonight. I was flying to Miami tomorrow to come to you.”

“Really?” I nod. “Guess I need to get my Spidey senses checked, because I didn’t see that one coming.”

I shake my head and head to my room for sweats, and while she is changing I start the coffee. Shit. I don’t have any frou frou creamer for her. I smell the milk at the same time she walks in the kitchen. “I’m not putting milk you have to smell in my coffee.” Her hands are sitting on her hips and her foot is pointed out, in the perfect pout stance.

“That’s probably a good idea because I don’t think it would taste all that good,” I pour the milk down the drain, sure my nose is revolting from the smell.

“Just give me sugar, and we’ll work on the rest.” Hearing the words that she’ll be here in the future sure as hell doesn’t get old.

“Tomorrow I promise we will go grocery shopping.”

“What happened to Mexico?”

“Oh, that’s happening, but don’t you have to get your passport? I’d like a few days of just us.”

“Tomorrow morning . . . grocery store. But words of wisdom. Don’t speak to me in the morning until I’ve had real coffee.”

“I didn’t forget that. You leave a lasting memory in the morning.”

“Not for the faint of heart, huh?”

“Only the strongest survive you
and
no caffeine.”

“See, I believe in being thorough with everything I do, and what kind of caffeine addict would I be if I didn’t make people cower in fear?”

“Fix your coffee and come on.” I walk to the couch to wait for her. The normalcy of this mundane task shouldn’t cause the excitement it does.

Setting her coffee down, she takes the opposite end of the couch and curls up. “Why so far?”

Closing her eyes, she inhales. “I need to face you when I tell you what’s happened these last six months. About the time before that. I want you to see my face, my honesty, and understand this wasn’t something I took lightly.”

“I don’t think that.”

“Just let me do it my way.” Her vulnerability makes me want to skip this, protect her. I’m essentially going to strip her bare and make her relive all the pain again. The only saving grace is I will be there to build her back up.

“Why didn’t you come after me after Turks and Caicos?” My voice is harsher than I want it to be, but it still hurts.

I see her flinch, her eyes well up. “I wasn’t ready. I knew that day and every day since that it was you. You had my heart, my
entire
heart. I just couldn’t admit that to myself or anyone else, because doing so hurt someone else.”

“Dakota?”

“Yes. Regardless of our history, at one time I loved him. I always will but not like you think. He represents my past. The good, bad, and ugly. He was there, and I’m sorry if that bothers you, but I can’t change that fact. One day I hope to have that friendship back, but not now.”

“I went through hell, Bianca. Lost. Wounded. I thought I didn’t matter to you.”

“You mattered. Too much. I couldn’t deal with it without putting my past to bed.”

I understand but don’t agree. “What happened the night of the wedding?”

I see her draw her knees up, physically turning into herself, and I lean forward to take her hand. I’ll give her this lifeline. “I snapped. It’s hard to articulate, but I had so many feelings running through my body. It shut down. I had the guilt of letting you go, hurting Dakota. Rejecting him. I just witnessed Callie and Bronson pledge their love, and I knew I had given that up. I kept seeing Dakota and my roommate in my mind, hearing his promises, his apologies. I felt guilty because I couldn’t forgive him. Wait, that’s not true. I didn’t want to forgive him.”

“And now?”

“I’m getting there. I was remembering everything that night. You walking out, what I did to make you doubt me. Not my proudest moment. I walked past a room that reminded me of him, and then walked outside to your memory. I had just told him to let me go, but I refused to let anything go.” She pauses, biting her bottom lip and lets go of my hand. “One of you wasn’t more important in that moment, but it was all swirling in my mind and I blamed myself. In truth, I still do.”

“Don’t.”

“I’m trying. Work in progress. I’ve let a lot of it go, seeing it more clearly. Anyway, I went to the hotel where I lost my virginity.” I must react in a way that she doesn’t like. “You wanted to know, Heath. I can’t censor myself, it’s all or nothing.”

“Sorry, baby. It’s hard, but I know we need this.”

“So I went as far as asking for the same room. In hindsight, it wasn’t my smartest moment. The memories continued, on constant replay, and I couldn’t stop them. I felt myself sinking farther and farther in despair, and I needed a way for it to stop. I don’t know what triggered me that night, but I looked for a razor or anything sharp in the bathroom. It’s like I was on autopilot, my body knowing what I was craving. I didn’t want to die, I just wanted a moment of peace. I needed a way to release the pain, allow it to escape.” She stands up and paces. I can see her getting agitated, rolling her wrists with her hands fisted.

“You need a break?”

She shakes her head. “I went in the bathroom and saw my reflection. The girl staring back wasn’t me. I could see her flaws, like they were stamped in ink across her face. She was weak . . . feeble. I lashed out, slamming my fist over and over into the mirror trying to make her disappear, trying to break her. The pain I felt in my hands calmed me. So I kept going. With each shard of glass slicing my skin, the release started to come. The bleeding brought peace. Not because I was in danger of bleeding to death, but as if each drop of blood represented my sins, my mistakes. They signified each fractured relationship. With each drop lost it was as if I was releasing myself of that particular burden, that memory of guilt or shame. I remember Bronson and Callie rushing in, the paramedics were there, but after that, I had checked out. My mind shut down, everything went dark, because I couldn’t deal anymore.”