Somebody's Angel (#5 in a Military Romance / BDSM Romance series) (Rescue Me) (66 page)

“That makes me feel better, Marco. I never knew for certain but could not ask.” Mama pulled away and looked into his eyes. Her eyelashes had clumped together with her tears, but she had stopped crying. “You didn’t deserve anything but to be loved. You have always been such a beautiful spirit, so wild and free. I envied you that. I’ve spent my whole life doing what’s expected of me and letting my dreams be relegated to someday in the future when I retire.”

Mama admired his wildness? His inability to stay in one place and follow through on his obligations and commitments? He’d always thought she wanted him to be more like Gino.

A loud sniffle from Carmella reminded him of his siblings. They both looked as if they’d been poleaxed, comforting each other as they watched the drama unfold.

“Carmella and Sandro, count your blessings that you had two wonderful parents. I know I speak for Gino, too, when I say thank you for sharing them with us. You will always be considered my sister and brother and to hell with that shit about being half-siblings.” He turned to Mama. “
Scusa
,
mamma
.” Returning his gaze to his siblings, he added, “I’ve lost one brother and don’t intend to lose any other sibling over something that inconsequential. Our bond was formed the day each of you was born and nothing about these revelations will change that as far as I’m concerned.”

When Carmella stood and stretched out her arms, Marc rose and stepped into them, giving her a tight hug. “Thanks, Marc. I’m more than a little shell-shocked but I couldn’t bear the thought of you being anything but my big brother. I love you.”

After breaking away from their hug, he went to Sandro, who managed to hold himself together despite appearing on the verge of tears. Marc hugged him, too, and whispered, “You know too much for me to ever consider you anything but a pesky little brother.” Sandro barked a laugh but held onto Marc a little tighter, refusing to let him go for a long moment, hiding his face in Marc’s shoulder. Marc gave him time to compose himself before breaking the embrace. Sandro could worry about
machismo
. Marc no longer cared. Marc’s girl encouraged him to express emotions, rather than repress them. A few tears didn’t make him weak at all.

Gino, just goes to show you didn’t get everything right.

Mama interrupted their moment. “Marco, you questioned why Melissa continued to be invited to family gatherings long after Gino’s death.”

Marc’s gaze went to Angelina. Seeing her on edge at the mention of Melissa’s name, he sat beside her, wrapped his arm around her and drew her against his side. She rested her head on his shoulder as they waited for Mama to continue. A peace descended over him having her by his side.

“Gino wrote her a letter from Afghanistan saying you both had been adopted. I’m uncertain why he chose to do that.”

So Melissa hadn’t lied. “I’d like to see the letter sometime, Mama.”

She wrung her hands in her lap. “I’m sorry, Marco, but she has the letter. After Gino’s death, she showed it to me long enough to convince me it was real and to blackmail money from me, threatening to tell you that you were adopted if I didn’t do as she demanded.”

Angelina stiffened beside him, and he thought he heard her mutter “that bitch” under her breath.

A sob tore from Mama’s throat. “I couldn’t face having to tell any of you about what had happened to me when I’d just buried one son. I didn’t want to lose another. I wanted us to continue to go on as we had been.” Papa handed her a tissue, and she blew her nose and sat up straighter. “Imagine my surprise when you came to me in February telling me she’d told you anyway. We had heated words, and I cut her off immediately.”

Marc remembered the exchange he and Angelina had overheard while waiting to talk with Mama the day after the anniversary party before Melissa had left in a huff.

“My sources tell me she’s returned to Omaha to be with her family.” Mama must be keeping tabs on Melissa to keep her from going after her loved ones again.

Good for you, Mama
.

Sandro chimed in. “To mooch off them, no doubt.” Mama smiled at her youngest son.

Marc marveled at Melissa’s stupidity—if she’d kept her mouth shut, she’d probably still be extorting money from the D’Alessios. But her need to take Angelina down a peg or two had been her undoing.

Marc took Angelina’s chin and raised it until her gaze met his. “Thank you for putting her in her place on New Year’s. Knowing you had the courage and strength to stand up to her and give her the put-down she deserved made me proud to call you…” He leaned close to her ear and whispered, “My submissive.”

Angelina wrapped her hand around his neck and pulled him down to her mouth to whisper, “You are such a good man, Marc.”

Before he could respond, Mama cleared her throat and pulled his attention away from Angelina.

“This brings me to the rest of what I need to say to you today.” Marc wasn’t sure how much more she could have to reveal. “Papa and I,” she glanced up at Papa and smiled before turning her gaze to Marc’s siblings, “have decided to retire at the end of the fiscal year on the first of July. Sandro and Carmella, you have shown us these past years that you are more than capable of running the resort and our staff efficiently. This business is for those younger than we are.”

“Wow, Mama,” Sandro said. His little brother looked more surprised by this revelation than all the others today.

Once more, her attention turned to Papa. “We’ve booked a Mediterranean cruise for mid-July and plan to take several extensive trips each year now that we won’t be tied down to the resort.” She spoke to Sandro and Carmella again. “I assure you we will not micromanage. As long as we can have our condo as a home base, we probably won’t even be in your hair.”

Carmella grinned and wiped the tears from her eyes. “You know this will always be your home, Mama and Papa. Thank you for entrusting all your hard work into our hands. We won’t let you down.”

Papa cleared his throat and added, “I’m going to hold Mama to the lack of micromanaging part.” Everyone laughed, cutting some of the tension. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, I’m taking her to dinner in Vail. Marco and Angelina, please pardon our lack of hospitality, but I’m sure you young folks have a lot to plot and plan, and we’d just be in the way. Marco, maybe you can teach your sister and brother not to take work so seriously, too. I don’t want them to put off living as long as Mama and I have.”

Marc stared dumbfounded, floored at Papa’s words. Despite all that had happened this year, he had never felt more accepted by his family than today.

All because of the amazing woman at his side. What did he plan to do to make sure she never left that place?

* * *

At the outskirts of Denver, Marc steered the Porsche off I-70 and south onto Highway 470. “We’re taking a detour. There’s someone I want to introduce you to.”

Angelina marveled at the newest change in Marc since leaving his parents nearly three hours ago. Small wonder. Everything unfolded so quickly, as if Mama and everyone had just been waiting for the chance to expose all the secrets and lies to the light. Catharsis.

“Marc, I can understand now how lying didn’t seem like a problem to you when we met. I don’t see how your family kept all the various versions of the truth straight. Your life was built on one lie after another.”

“I had the best of intentions. I never meant to hurt you in any way.”

“No, I’m not trying to rehash anything. That’s water under the bridge. I’m just making an observation. Your family’s lies were laced with good intentions, too, but look at all the pain they brought you and Mama especially. Honesty is so much healthier.”

“No argument there.”

They drove on several miles in silence. The snow-covered peaks made her think of Luke. With all that had happened in the past few days, she had barely given a thought to him. The last time she’d spoken with Cassie, she sounded at the end of her rope. If they didn’t get Luke down from there soon… But he didn’t sound as if he should be moved too quickly, even if they could get through the snowpack to reach him.

She looked out the window at passing countryside she didn’t recognize. Curiosity got the better of her. “Who did you say you’re taking me to meet?”

“I didn’t say.” She glanced at him, but he didn’t smile. “You’ll guess before we arrive, if I don’t chicken out. Observe your surroundings, pet.”

When he exited onto Highway 285, a route she sometimes took between Denver and Aspen Corners, the scenery became a little more familiar, but she had no clue where he was taking her. He exited onto Sheridan and still she didn’t know…and then she saw the first rows of white military tombstones. Tears came to her eyes, and she pressed her finger against suddenly trembling lips.

Gino.

Dio.
He was taking her to meet his brother. In all the time she’d known Marc, he’d never visited, as far as she knew. She glanced over at him.

His knuckles were white on the steering wheel. “I think it’s time I had a long overdue talk with Gino about some things.” Marc cleared his throat. “I haven’t been out here since we buried him, so we’ll have to stop by the office for help locating his grave.”

Angelina reached out and stroked his forearm, causing him to release one hand from the wheel to grip her hand. She felt him trembling and squeezed his tighter.

Half an hour later, with their map in hand, Angelina navigated Marc through the cemetery to the place marked with an X. Her heart beat so loudly, he had to hear.

“I think it’s that row,” she told him, pointing. Marc pulled the Porsche as far to the right as he could and turned off the ignition. He sat and stared at the rows of tombstones for a few moments. “Would you like me to give you a moment alone?”

Marc paused and then said, “If you don’t mind…”

Angelina had no clue what Marc was going through. She’d never be able to stand at the grave of one of her brothers—ever.

“No, I changed my mind. I would like you to be with me, if you think you can.”

That he wanted her there warmed her heart. “You know I’ll do whatever you need me to do, Marc.”

Please, God, let me be strong for him.

He sighed heavily and opened the door. She waited for him to come around to her door, trying to collect her thoughts and shore up her courage. The crumpled map fell to the floor. From here on, they would walk until they found Gino’s final resting place.

When the door opened, he reached in. “Watch your step. There are some slippery spots.”

Clasping her hand, Marc led her down the row. She knew from having memorized the map they would have to walk about halfway down the hill before they needed to start scanning tombstones for names. She scoured the names and dates, seeing some of the more recent and familiar combat zones named—Gulf War, Iraq, Desert Storm, Operation Enduring Freedom, sometimes shown as Afghanistan. How devastating for so many families who lost loved ones. A deep sorrow came over Angelina knowing how profoundly the loss of one Marine had affected Marc’s family.

Her mind became numb to so much death and devastation until Marc’s hand halted her steps. She focused on the stone to his left. No recognition. Not his. Then the next one…

Gino Z. D’Alessio

PFC US Marine Corps

Afghanistan

Purple Heart

October 5, 1974

February 24, 2002

Angelina remembered seeing Gino’s name on a tattooed memorial on Adam’s back after he’d been attacked by the cougar. His loss had been felt beyond his family. She blessed herself and said a silent prayer for Gino’s soul to find rest and peace in God’s perpetual light. Marc had a death grip on her hand, but she merely held on. He remained silent. She hated to intrude on his moment of reflection, so she continued to stare at the grave. Gino had died on Damián’s birthday. She wondered if one of the reasons things had come to a head that night was that Marc was remembering the loss of his beloved big brother.

Marc released a sound somewhere between a gasp and a sob before he dropped to his knees onto Gino’s grave.

“I’m so sorry, Gino. Please forgive me.”

Angelina knelt beside him, feeling the cold wet ground seep through her tights and not caring. She wrapped her arms around Marc, holding him as he sobbed for his brother. Tears fell down her cheeks, chilled by the cold wind that whipped up the hillside all of the sudden.

“Shhh. He’s forgiven you, Marc. Big brothers understand.”

Racking sobs poured out of him. “Let go, Marc. I have you.” She cried for Marc; no one should have to bury a sibling. She cried for Gino; the man had died saving lives, sacrificing his own so a fellow Marine could return home to his wife and baby.

Sometime later, Marc reached out to touch the stone. His fingers traced the letters of Gino’s name, taking special care to slow down over the name they shared.

“He didn’t have a drop of Mama or Papa’s blood and yet proudly took their name, knowing full well he was adopted his whole life.” Marc paused a moment before continuing. “If I needed any more proof that blood didn’t matter, all I had to do was look at the way Gramps, Mama, Papa—hell, the entire D’Alessio family—treated Gino as one of their own. Papa did the same with me from the earliest memories I have. Until New Year’s, I had no inkling Papa wasn’t my birth father. But Papa loved Gino and me no less than he loved his own biological children.”

Angelina listened as more of the pieces came together for Marc.

“I’ve spent months trying to figure out if I’m a D’Alessio or a Solari—figuring out who the hell I was.” He sank back on the heels of his shoes, breaking contact with the stone and resting his hand on his thigh. Angelina stroked his arm, hoping to coax him to share more without intruding on his grief.

Marc turned to Angelina. “At Christmas, your family showed me what it’s like to be from a close-knit, demonstrative family. I envied you and your brothers the connection you have. Despite some tensions, the love you have for each other came through loud and clear.”

Angelina nodded. “I wouldn’t trade my brothers for anyone, even though there are times when I have to keep my distance from them; otherwise, they’ll smother me alive.”