Italian Knights (17 page)

“I knew sooner or later we’d get him,” Sal went on. “You know what they say, slime always rises to the top. Once the boys were in custody and they confessed David had paid them fifty bucks apiece to burglarize and then vandalize the deli, I knew we had him. But I still needed concrete proof. It was his word against two kids who were admitted thieves. After they took care of the deli they were supposed to meet David. I followed them and watched the payoff. I also heard his instructions as to what to do tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? How far did he plan to carry this thing?”

Sal’s eyes darkened. “Don’t ask, Annie,” he cautioned, shuddering at the memory. Just the thought of what David had planned to do to Annie caused his guts to tighten. “Just don’t ask. I arrested him right then and there.”

“And?” she prompted, still wondering where the fight came in.

Sal grinned. “Let’s just say David resisted arrest.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?” she demanded.

“I didn’t want to frighten you.”

“Frighten me!” Annie cried furiously. “I’m not a child, Sal!”

“I know, hon,” Sal said softly. “But I didn’t want you to worry, at least not until I had some proof.”

She stood up on shaky legs. “You should have told me the truth,” she accused, knowing that if he had, she would never have allowed herself to fall in love with him. But now it was too late. She wasn’t the kind of woman to turn her feelings on and off like a faucet. She’d fallen totally and helplessly in love with him, constantly holding on to the hope that someday he might feel the same way. Now she knew it was never to be.

Sal looked at Annie carefully, noting the sudden paleness of her skin. “Annie, I told you I didn’t want to worry or frighten you. I knew the situation was under control. Every time David showed up, I made sure someone called me.”

Her eyes slid closed and a wave of pain rocked her. Oh, Lord, it was worse than she’d thought. The whole
neighborhood
knew what a fool she’d been. Poor Annie, the little widow woman who couldn’t even tell when a man was using her.

“Sal! How could you do that?” she cried. “I must look like an incompetent fool who can’t even take care of herself!”

Sal sat up. “No, Annie, that’s not the way it looks. How on earth were you supposed to know what David was up to? What good would it have done to tell you, anyway? You were frightened enough by the burglary as it was. I didn’t think there was any point in worrying you any further.”

“You didn’t think—” She dashed at her tears of humiliation that slid down her cheek. “Sal, when are you going to realize I’m a big girl and I don’t need your protection?” How dare he treat her like a six-year-old child who needed to be watched over constantly.

“Annie, that’s not the way— Hon,” Sal said, rising up on one elbow and trying to calm her down. “I only did it to protect you.”

“Sal, I don’t need your protection,” she protested, knowing it was a lie. She needed Sal more than she’d ever needed anything in her life. “What else haven’t you told me?” Annie demanded.

His eyes darkened and a muscle along his temple jumped. She knew immediately there was more that he wasn’t telling.

“What else?” she demanded and Sal sighed.

Tell her the truth. Be up front. She has a right to know
. Ryce’s words echoed in Sal’s mind, and he knew what he had to do. He loved Annie more than anything in the world, but they could never have a real relationship unless he was honest with her. Even though he’d tried so hard to protect her all this time, she was right. She was a big girl, and she had a right to know. If only he could take away some of the pain. He shouldn’t have kept anything from her. Not the information about David, and definitely not the truth about the way Tony died. Would she understand that he had done it out of love and not malice? He hoped so. He was betting his future happiness on it.

“Annie, come sit down,” he said gently, reaching out his hand to her.

She avoided his hand but sat down on the couch next to him, wondering what else he’d been trying to protect her from.

“I want to talk to you about the night Tony died,” Sal said quietly, and her eyes flew to his.

“What does Tony’s death have to do with all of this?” she asked in confusion.

Sal was silent for a long moment. He took her hand, holding it tenderly. “Nothing, but there’s something I’ve never told you about that night.”

Annie felt herself stiffen. “What do you mean?”

“What I mean is I just couldn’t bring myself to tell you the truth about what happened,” he said quietly.

Annie looked at him carefully. “What happened that night, Sal?” she asked, her eyes searching his. A band of pressure tightened around her heart.

“Tony and I were supposed to be on a stakeout. Tony decided to go over to the restaurant; you know, the one by the station.”

“What on earth was he doing there if he was supposed to be on a stakeout?” Her eyes searched his for some clue, but all she saw was a haunting sadness that caused her throat to constrict. “Sal?”

“Annie,” he said softly, laying a hand on her arm. “Tony was with another woman.”

“W-what?” Her eyes searched his, praying this was all a mistake.

“Tony had been seeing her for a while, and I guess her husband found out. He found them together that night. They had words and the next thing I knew…” His voice trailed off and he reached out to her, but she shrank away from him.

“Oh, God,” she whispered, pushing herself to her feet. Tears welled in her eyes as she paced the floor, trying to digest it all.

All this time she’d thought her husband… Oh, God. No wonder Sal could never talk to her about that night. It wasn’t because it hurt him to talk about Tony’s death, but because he was covering for him. All this time Sal had been lying to her. And she’d never questioned him—about anything. She’d just believed everything he said as if it were etched in stone.

“All this time,” she whispered. “You’ve been lying to me…about Tony, about his death, about everything.”

The look in her eyes caused Sal’s heart to crumble in anguish. He shot to his feet and went to her. “No, Annie, I didn’t lie to you about everything. I just didn’t see any point in telling you the specific circumstances. Tony was dead; what good would it have done? I saw the look on your face the night he died, remember?
I
was the one who had to tell you. I knew then I couldn’t bring myself to inflict any more pain on you. Annie, I’m sorry, I never meant to hurt you or mislead you. I was only trying to protect you.”

“Protect me!” she cried. “You sure cover a lot of ground with those two little words, Sal. I trusted you,” she said in disbelief, whirling away from him. “I thought you were my friend, the one person left in the world I could count on.”

He grabbed her shoulders and turned her to face him. But she refused to look at him. “You can trust me, Annie, and you can count on me.”

She laughed softly—a thin, hysterical sound that Sal felt clear through to his bones. “You’ve been deceiving me for two years, Sal; I’d hardly say that’s a basis for trust.” She wanted to cry, to strike out at him for what he’d done to her. A sob caught in her throat and she whirled away from him again, not wanting him to see her pain.

“Annie, please, don’t. Let me explain.”

“Explain!” She blinked away the tears that filled her eyes. “What else have you lied to me about, Sal?” Her eyes were huge and dark with the pain of betrayal and he felt his heart constrict.

“Nothing, Annie. I’ve never lied to you about anything but this.” Sal had never known a pain such as he felt at this moment. He wanted to pull her into his arms, hold her and protect her from the pain that racked her body.

“You expect me to believe you?” she asked incredulously. “I trusted you,” she whispered. “I never thought you’d lie to me about—about—anything.” She raised her stricken eyes to his. “Why?” she breathed, desperate to know why and how he could do this to her.

“What good would it have done to tell you? He was gone and nothing could bring him back. What difference did it make—”

“‘Difference?” She dashed at the tears that slid down her cheeks. “You don’t understand, do you? It makes a great deal of difference, Sal. How could you keep something like that from me?”

“Don’t you think you’d been through enough, Annie? Please, listen to me.”

“No,” she whispered, shrugging off his hands. “Don’t touch me—please, Sal, just leave me alone.”

He knew he had to make her understand. He did what he did because he loved her and cared about her, not because he wanted to hurt her or betray her. Sal knew that if he didn’t reach her now, if he didn’t make her understand, he might lose her. And he couldn’t bear the thought. He’d waited his whole life for her—for love—and he wasn’t about to lose her now.

“Annie, please?”

“No,” she whispered, unable to turn and face him. “Please, Sal, I just want you to leave. I need some time to think.” Her voice broke and her control slipped another notch as Rich’s words came flooding back.
You deserve a better husband than Tony was.
So this, too, was something else everyone in the neighborhood knew about but her. No wonder Sal thought she needed a chaperone!

A sob tore loose from her throat. “Sal, please leave me alone. Just go.”

Sal stood there for a moment. His heart and his arms ached for her, and once again he cursed his childhood friend for all the pain he had caused them all.

“I’ll go, Annie,” he said. “But I’ll be back. You can count on it.” Sal turned on his heel and headed for the door.

You can count on it.
At one time, she’d been certain Sal was the only thing she could count on. Now she knew differently. There wasn’t anything or anyone she could count on but herself.

The soft click of the door shutting behind him opened up the dam of tears Annie had been holding inside. Wrapping her arms around herself, she sank to the floor and began to cry, letting the sobs that shook her body overcome her.

She loved Sal so much, and all this time he’d been lying to her. In his own way, Sal had betrayed her the same way her husband had. She’d told Sal that when she married again—
if
she married again—she wanted the kind of marriage she hadn’t had with Tony. She wanted a different kind of man and a different kind of marriage. What she’d wanted was Sal. But that was before she knew how easy it was for him to deceive her.

For one brief, shining moment she’d thought Sal was the man to share those dreams with, to share her life with, but that moment was shattered when she learned of his deception. No wonder Sal thought she needed someone to look after her; she couldn’t even tell when a man was lying to her. If Sal had kept something like this from her in order to protect Tony, what else had he kept from her?

An overwhelming sense of sadness etched itself into her heart as she realized once again what a fool she’d been. She’d trusted her husband, and he had betrayed her. It hurt, but Tony was gone now. What he did explained a lot of things—things she’d never understood. She felt a wave of sadness for the man who’d once been her husband. They probably shouldn’t even have married in the first place. They’d never had a deep burning love. It was more like two lonely people drifting toward one another for comfort.

Her love for Sal was different; it was fire and heat and an intense longing to always be with him. She’d waited her whole life to feel this way about a man. It had been a long, often lonely wait. And for what?

Tears filled her eyes again and a quiet desperation filled her soul. She was quite certain she’d never felt so alone in her life. Alone and lonely. She loved Sal as she’d never loved anyone else, but how could she ever trust him again?

Annie smiled sadly. The answer was simple. She couldn’t.

Chapter Ten

It had been a week, and Sal was growing impatient. He knew he had to give Annie time, but his heart ached for what she was going through—for what
he’d
put her through. He knew she was going to be hurt, he’d expected it. What he hadn’t expected was the absolute devastation he felt.

She refused his calls, and every time he stopped at the deli she scurried out the back door, avoiding him. He was going nuts. The past week had been torture. Never had he known such agony, such bleakness. In seven long, lonely days he’d learned he needed Annie just as he needed air to breathe.

Stabbing anxiety dogged his steps. He was cross and short-tempered at work, barking orders and being a general pain in the behind. This morning the captain had threatened him with suspension if he didn’t get his act together. Sal knew he had to do something. Somehow, he had to find a way to make her understand.

He had a plan but he’d need some help. During lunch he called his mother and his aunt. They agreed to pass the word and do whatever they could. By late that afternoon, his plan was in motion. The rest was up to Annie.

“Annie,” Rosina said gently. “Salvatore called. Again.”

“And what did you tell him?” she finally asked, because Rosina was just standing there looking at her with such a hopeful expression. If she didn’t answer her, Rosina wouldn’t get back to work, and then they would have twenty-five people standing at the counter listening to the life and times of poor Annie Milano, the notorious widow woman.