24. Goose
Chapter 24
Goose
“Gemma!” I called out, stepping through the door after practice.
“Upstairs!” came the distant reply.
Cannoli came running from the kitchen, his barks announcing his presence before he rounded the corner of the partition separating that room from where I stood.
Kneeling, I let him lick my face as I tangled hands in his fur, scratching behind his ears.
“Gonna take the dog out!”
I stood, leading Cannoli out back. One of my eyebrows rose when he didn’t even make it off the stone patio before lifting a leg and emptying his bladder.
“Guess you really had to go, didn’t you, buddy?” I remarked, wondering how long it had been since Gemma last let him out.
Sliding the glass door open, we both came in from the January chill. Tossing him a treat from the canister set on a bookshelf, I crept up the stairs, eager to set eyes on the woman who had stolen my heart. Four hours was far too long to have spent apart.
Entering her bedroom, I was surprised to find her nowhere in sight. Then, I heard a rustling in the closet and mentally rubbed my hands together. Maybe I’d catch her in the middle of changing after work and could convince her to forget about clothes for the rest of the evening.
The playful smile slipped from my face when I saw her stuffing cash from a duffel bag into a safe tucked behind a rack of clothing. But before I could ask what the hell she was doing, my heart stopped when she gripped the shiny black handle of a gun.
“Gemma?” I croaked out.
She jolted, plastering her back against the closest wall. Chest heaving, each exhale was deafening in the silence as her eyes darted around the tight space, looking for a way out.
That’s when I knew something was very, very wrong.
My gaze honed in on her hand and its white-knuckle grip on the weapon. Swallowing, I dared to ask, “Baby, why do you have a gun?”
She finally turned her face to meet my eye, and my breath seized. I’d seen those hazel depths filled with anger, panic, and even fear, but right now, there was no mistaking the sheer terror flickering in them as she stared back at me.
“Y-you were s-supposed to be out back with the dog.” Her voice was weak as she stumbled over the words.
My body begged me to go to her, to wrap her up in my arms and keep her safe. But in her current state, who knew what she might do while spooked, wielding a firearm.
“That’s not what I asked.” I kept my tone soft, praying that if I did, my Gemma would return to the surface, and we could figure out whatever problem she thought could only be solved with violence.
Gemma blinked at me in a daze. “What?”
“The gun, honey.”
She peeked down at her trembling hand and let out a strangled sob before letting go of the gun. The second I heard the dull thud it made when hitting the floor, I leapt into action, gripping Gemma’s biceps and hauling her limp form to the doorway.
Tremors racked her body as my arms banded around her. Holding her close, I rocked us gently until her breathing leveled out, and she turned her head to face me.
“I’m sorry.”
Clutching her tighter to my chest, I pressed my lips to her temple. “I don’t need an apology. I only want to understand why it looks like you just got back from a heist, sweetheart.”
She took a shuddering breath. “I can’t tell you.”
Those words were like a dagger through my heart. What the hell was it going to take to get her to open up to me? Hadn’t I proven myself?
Going for levity even as pain pierced my soul—knowing she might never fully let me in—I teased, “Ah. Because if you did, then you’d have to kill me?”
“No.” Gemma stared up at me with glassy eyes. “But someone else might try.”
Stunned, I reared back enough that my hold on her loosened, and she stepped around me to drop onto the bed.
Tear tracks ran down her soft cheeks as she silently cried, her mind a world away.
That was enough to snap me out of my shock, and I crossed the room, kneeling at her feet and taking her hands in mine. “Gemma, talk to me.”
Sniffling with her eyes cast down, she said so low I almost didn’t hear her, “I’m not who you think I am.”
Ooooooookay, not sure where this is headed, but I’m in too deep now to walk away.
Untangling one of my hands from hers, I placed a palm over her rapidly beating heart. “I know who you are in here. That’s all that matters.”
Gemma shook her head. “This is a part of my life I never wanted you to see.”
Still confused, I dropped my head in her lap, vowing, “I want every part of you, Gemma. But I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”
Sighing, she ran trembling fingers through my hair. “The gun was just the tip of the iceberg. This goes so much deeper than that.”
I hugged her waist, my voice muffled against her clothing. “I know you’re scared. Hell, I lost about ten years off my life at seeing you holding a gun. But whatever it is that’s got you so upset, I want to help.”
“I don’t want to steal your light.”
I lifted my head. Heartbreak was written all over her face as she stared down at me.
“It’s not stealing if I give it to you freely, baby. Everything I have is yours. Don’t you know that?”
Gemma squeezed her eyes shut. “You don’t understand.”
“Then help me understand.” Rising to my feet, I pulled her into my arms, settling her on my lap as I dropped onto the edge of the mattress.
She let out a shaky exhale before burying her face in my chest. “Do you remember when I told you I was running?”
Sifting through the hundreds of interactions I’d had with the woman who took up all the available space in my brain, I honed in on one from inside her bar before she agreed to our first date.
“From your family, right?”
Gemma nodded, her forehead rubbing against where my heart beat erratically as I tried to piece this together on my own.
Tightening my grip, I swallowed thickly before asking, “What happened?”
Silence engulfed us as my question hung heavy in the air, Gemma clearly hesitant to answer. But I remained patient and steadfast, moving my hands in soothing strokes over her back, letting her know without words that I was there when she was ready.
Quietly, she replied, “So many things. None of them good.”
She was talking in riddles, so I decided to try to hit this from a different angle.
“What made you move to Indianapolis, Gemma?”
Fingers dug into my biceps a split-second before hazel eyes peered up, and she whispered, “My cousin’s wife was murdered.”
Jesus Christ. Guess that explains the gun.
Blinking at her in shock, it took a moment for me to regain my bearings.
Gemma must’ve taken my hesitation the wrong way because she sprang off my lap, muttering as she made for the door, “I knew you couldn’t handle it.” Jumping up, I caught her elbow before she could escape. The minute my fingers wrapped around her arm, she wrenched it away, screaming, “Don’t touch me!”
I held both my hands up in surrender, my heart shattering as I watched her deal with invisible demons she refused to describe. “I’m sorry.”
Bending in half, she let out a frustrated scream. “Fuck!”
I’d dealt with the sudden death of a loved one, but I could tell this ran deeper. There was more she wasn’t telling me.
“Like my family hasn’t fucked up my life enough. You were never supposed to find out.”
Desperate for answers, I asked, “Find out what?”
Looking skyward, Gemma blew out a breath. “That your precious little Kitten is a mafia princess.”
Sputtering, I said, “Did you say—”
Her head snapped to meet my stunned gaze. “You heard what I said.”
Mafia. She’d said mafia.
“That’s why I freaked out when you said you were Russian. There’s some bad blood between families, and for a second, I thought you were sent to kidnap me. Or worse.”
My eyes widened, and I pressed a finger to my chest. “Me?”
Gemma huffed. “Yeah, in hindsight, it was a ridiculous idea. You couldn’t hurt a fly. Which is why you have no business being mixed up with me. You need to get far, far away from my messy life before you get dragged under too.”
All the progress we’d made had vanished. Gemma was trying to push me away again.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Why are you making this harder than it needs to be?” she whined, frustration leaking into her tone.
“In my mind, it’s simple. You’re mine, Gemma. Your problems are my problems. So, I think it’s best if we sit down, and you start from the beginning so I can fully understand what I’m up against.”
“Sasha.” My name was said on a whispered plea.
I curled my fingers, beckoning her to me. “Come on. At least let me hold you.”
Inhaling deeply through her nose, she closed the gap between us, and I was able to draw her close. She sagged in my embrace, the tension leaving her body as I absorbed it into mine.
“Are you sure?” Her weary voice floated up from where her face was pressed to my shoulder. “Once I spill these secrets, there’s no going back.”
I stroked a hand over her dark hair. “We’ve been past the point of no return since the minute you opened your mouth in that DMV.”
That got a weak chuckle out of her. “And you wonder why I thought you were psychotic.”
“You might think it’s crazy, but that was when my world finally came into focus.”
Gemma hugged me tighter, like if she let go, we might drift apart. “I told you good things don’t happen to me.”
“Yet,” I countered. “To that point, good things hadn’t happened to you yet . We’ve got a lifetime of them ahead of us. You just need to take my hand and let me lead you there.”
Her swallow was audible. “Will you think less of me if I need a little liquid courage to get through this?”
“Of course not. It might actually soothe my frayed nerves if you can settle yours.” My arms fell away as she stepped back, turning toward the door, but my words to her back halted her movements. “I’ll get it. You sit down and take some deep breaths.”
Spinning around, she nodded. “Okay. I keep a bottle of whiskey in the pantry.”
Pressing my lips to her forehead, I stepped past her, jogging down the stairs. With shaky hands, I gripped the glass bottle, pouring a healthy serving into a glass. For the first time in my life, I was tempted to down it myself, but I shook the thought off quickly. I needed a clear head to absorb every detail Gemma was about to share about her past life.
When I returned to the bedroom, I found her sitting up in bed against the headboard with a pillow clutched to her chest. I extended the glass to her, and she accepted it with a grateful nod, bringing the amber liquid to her lips and taking a large swallow.
Crawling across the mattress to settle in beside her, I took her free hand in mine, stroking over the knuckles with my thumb.
Clearing her throat, Gemma began, “When I was very young, I learned that women were not equal to men. Especially not in the world I was born into.” She took a deep breath before confessing, “I don’t remember my mother.”
“Did she—”
“No,” Gemma answered the question before I could finish it. “Well, I guess I don’t really know if she’s dead or alive.”
I eyed her. “What do you mean?”
She took another swig of whiskey. “I’m the oldest. My father spent most of my life lamenting the fact that I’d been born a girl, so I can only imagine the wrath my mother incurred for failing to produce a son on the first try. She got it right on the second attempt, though. My brother, Enzo, is a little over two years younger than me. Immediately after he was born, my mother was sent away, having served her purpose.”
“Sent where?”
“Hell, if I know,” Gemma scoffed. “But I wouldn’t put it past my father to tie up loose ends. It isn’t unheard of for women to try to run off with heirs.”
“Heirs.” I rolled that word around in my brain. “Does that mean your father is the one in charge?”
She huffed out a wry laugh. “God, that’s a terrifying thought.”
“So, he’s not?” I pressed.
“No.” She shook her head. “Even though they are identical twins, my uncle Dominic was born first. Thank God for small favors.”
“Forgive my lack of knowledge, but how does that make your brother the heir?”
“He’s not.” She paused. “Well, at least now he’s not. Uncle Dominic was the Don, leaving my father next in line should anything happen to him. Since Enzo and I were born first, there was a short time when Enzo might’ve become the future head of the Bellini family.”
“You mentioned a cousin,” I prompted.
“Right. I might not remember my own mother, but I remember Aunt Viviana, Uncle Dom’s wife. She was young and pretty, and I can picture how her eyes crinkled in the corners when she smiled. I remember begging to feel the baby move in her belly and her always obliging, moving my hand around to find the perfect spot.” A sad smile formed on Gemma’s lips. “She used to whisper in my ear that she secretly hoped for a baby girl just like me. At the time, I didn’t truly understand why. I was five, and in my mind, I thought all moms wanted little girls to dress up in pretty clothes and hair bows. I know so much better now. She prayed for a girl because it meant they would have to try again for a boy.”
“Was it a girl?” Hope leaked into my voice.
“No, that baby was my cousin, Gio. But they did try for a second. Maybe Uncle Dominic knew what a disaster his brother would be if ever handed full control of the family and wanted to ensure there was a backup plan. Dying of old age is a pipe dream for Bellini men, especially those sitting at the head of the entire organization—there’s always a target on the back of the one with the power. So, they needed a spare.
“The second pregnancy was much different. Aunt Vivi didn’t want visitors, and she looked devastated any time our paths crossed, clinging to little Gio for dear life. She knew what was coming the minute she gave birth. She would have to say goodbye to her babies, and she wasn’t ready—I’m not sure she ever would be.
“Matteo came along, and I never saw my aunt again after he was born. When I asked my father where she’d gone, desperate for another hit of her warmth and kindness to fill the void in my motherless existence, he told me she’d done her job—muttering ‘too well’ under his breath—and that she was no longer needed.”
I tried to wrap my mind around what she was telling me. “How could they send away the women they loved?”
Gemma barked out a humorless laugh. “Oh, Sasha. There’s no such thing as love where I come from. Marriages are about building alliances and securing more power. You don’t get to choose your partner; they are chosen for you. And in the case of women, they can be bought.”
My eyebrows shot sky-high. “ Bought ?”
“They think calling it a dowry makes it seem classy, but when you break it down, powerful men often sell their daughters to the highest bidder, seeking the match with the most potential benefits for themselves.”
I’d heard more than enough already, but I knew Gemma had barely scratched the surface of the horrors she’d been forced to endure as the daughter of someone in the highest ranks of organized crime.
Her whiskey glass was empty, so I eased it from her hand, placing it on the nightstand beside me. The pillow went next, falling to the floor, where I tossed it aside.
Opening my arms, I left the choice up to her if she wanted my offer of comfort.
There was no hesitation. Gemma leapt into my lap, circling both arms around my neck, her heart pressed to mine.
“It’s a curse to be born a girl where I come from.”
There were a million questions swimming in my brain, but one pushed to the forefront. “How did you manage to stay unmarried for this long?” She was thirty-seven. Certainly, if men were selling their daughters like chattel, they did so when they were much younger.
Her heavy sigh fanned across my throat before she pulled back, shifting her position until she was straddling me. I followed her gaze when it dipped and watched as she dusted fingers over her upper thighs, where I knew her cut marks were hidden.
“As a teenager, I realized how truly powerless I was in my own life. My every move was controlled and monitored, choices made for me without my permission. Desperate, I found a way to take some of it back, even if it was an illusion. The world was practically burning around me, but the silly girl I was thought that if I could make one decision for myself, it would take away the feeling of helplessness.
“The first time I took a blade to my skin, I was scared but determined. Gritting my teeth, I reminded myself I was taking back my power and watched as it pierced the flesh, drawing a satisfying line of crimson.”
I ran my hands up and down her thighs, offering silent support as she bared her soul.
She gave me a sad smile. “Of course, I wasn’t thinking, and that first mark had been on my arm. My father caught one glimpse and knocked one of my teeth loose with how hard he hit me.”
I stiffened, my fingers digging into her flesh as my shock was unable to be contained. “He hit you?”
“It was a reminder,” Gemma explained, her tone flippant as if it were no big deal. “That I belonged to him, and he wasn’t in the business of passing off ‘damaged goods.’ Told me that if I were so desperate for marks, he would be happy to make sure I got a husband who loved to hand them out.”
“Jesus,” I breathed. No wonder she’d needed a drink.
“So I got smarter. Moved my weak act of defiance to a place where he wouldn’t see. Only I knew they were there, and it gave me a thrill to directly disobey his orders.”
Dropping my head to her chest, I whispered, “I’m so sorry, baby.”
Her hands gripped my face, forcing me to look at her. “I’m not. That’s what lit the fire inside me, pushed me to realize there were more things I could control.” A corner of her lips turned up at some memory replaying in her mind. “I was able to hold on just long enough.”
“Long enough to leave?” My gut twisted thinking she’d lived under a tyrant for nearly four decades.
Gemma shook her head. “Long enough for Uncle Dom to go down in the line of fire, allowing Gio to become Don. That changed everything.”
“How so?”
“The four of us—Enzo, Gio, Matteo, and I—were raised together by an army of housekeepers, nannies, and tutors. Growing up, there was nothing they could do to protect me from my father, and I wasn’t stupid enough to beg Uncle Dominic for mercy. The walls had ears in that house, and someone hoping to carry favor with my father would have told him of my plea. It wasn’t worth the risk. I was living in Hell as it was and didn’t need to dive deeper into the flames.
“When Gio took over, his word became law. So, when he told my father that under no circumstances was he to orchestrate a marriage for me that I didn’t want, that was it. I wasn’t free, but I was safe. Or at least, I thought . . .”
“What happened?” I asked as her eyes grew distant.
“A reminder that there aren’t enough guns in this world to provide security. And we had more than most. Hell, we were in business of running them.” Swallowing, she continued, “One night, Gio’s wife vanished without a trace.”
I circled back to the beginning. “Someone murdered her?”
“Would’ve probably been better for her if they had.”
“Excuse me?”
Gemma twisted her lips. “Rory ran. If I’d known she wanted out as desperately as I did, I might’ve asked her to let me come along. It’s been years, and Gio’s still searching for her, but the last time I talked to my brother, he said there was a lead, and Gio was chasing it.” She visibly shuddered. “Sasha, if he finds her . . .” Squeezing her eyes shut, she whispered, “I hope he never does.”
She deflated before my eyes, sagging against my chest.
“They didn’t have kids yet, but Matteo and his wife, Allegra, did—two little girls. She’s the one who was murdered. But whoever put out the hit wasn’t gunning for her. It was a case of wrong place, wrong time. She was in Gio’s car, and they were trying to kill him. And unfortunately for Allegra and those sweet babies who will have to grow up without their mother like the rest of us did, armored cars are useless if you aren’t buckled in.
“That’s when I knew I had to get out of there. Standing at that funeral, I remember thinking if I couldn’t find a way to separate myself from my family, I would be next. Neither of my cousins might have had a love match, but the grief still hit hard enough that it cracked open a window, and I managed to find a way to squeeze through.”
I tipped her chin up. “Do they know where you are, Gemma? Or are they searching for you like your cousin’s missing wife?”
She huffed out a tiny laugh. “I didn’t literally escape through a window. They know I’m gone. They let me leave. Only Enzo knows exactly where I am. My cousins have too much to worry about to care much about me.”
Cocking my head to the side, I asked, “So, if they’re not chasing you, what’s with the gun and stacks of cash?”
“My chance at a new life didn’t come with a new identity. My family has enemies, and I carry the Bellini name wherever I go. I need to be prepared in case anyone looking to hurt my family discovers I’m here.”
Finally, something I could help with. “Take my name.”
Gemma rolled those pretty hazel eyes before fixing me with a stern glare. “Sasha.”
“I’m serious.”
Tilting her face toward the ceiling, she let out a slow breath. “Of course you are. Why wouldn’t you be? Just add it to the laundry list of crazy our relationship consists of.”
“Let me give you the protection of my last name,” I repeated my offer.
“It’s not that simple,” she argued. “There would still be paper trails. You don’t have the kind of connections that would wipe records clean.”
“If you’ve got the connections, I have the money to make it happen. I will spend every last dime I have if it means keeping you safe. You said you’re ready to let me take care of you. Let me do this.”
She shoved at my chest, crawling off my lap. “Can’t wait to write all about this romantic marriage proposal in my diary later tonight.” Sarcasm dripped from every word.
I snagged her wrist before she could make it too far. “You’re right. This isn’t how it should be.”
“It’s fine.” She tugged out of my loose hold, crossing the room. “I should know better by now. Normal has never been on the table—not since the minute I took my first breath. Why should this be any different?”
“Give me a minute.” I held up a finger as I stood, stepping past her and down the stairs.
“Where are you going?” Gemma called after me.
“Be right back!”
Grabbing my keys, I threw the door open, sprinting to my car. I’d fucked up the first try, but I was determined that the second one would be better—more traditional, at least.
Digging through the well in the center console, I grabbed the item I’d kept hidden there for months, never knowing when I might need it but wanting to be prepared.
I rushed through the front door, not even bothering to kick off my shoes as I bounded up the steps.
Gemma took one look at my windswept appearance, and a wrinkle formed between her brows. “What’s gotten into you?”
Words weren’t needed; my following actions would be explanation enough.
Dropping to one knee, I brought the velvet box I’d retrieved from my car into view.
Eyes going wide, Gemma shook her head. “Sasha, what are you doing?”
“This isn’t a knee-jerk reaction. I’ve been waiting for the right moment.” I chuckled. “More like I was waiting for you to be ready because I’ve always known you were the one.”
Leaning down, she covered my hands. “Don’t do this.”
There was no stopping this now. Not when my wants and her needs had found a way to collide.
“Marry me, Gemma. Forget the past and create a new future with me.”
Her eyes squeezed shut, and a sad smile formed on her lips. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”
Those words sliced my heart wide open, but still, I forced myself to ask, “Why not?”
Gemma dropped to her knees opposite me, regret written in her eyes. “You think this is what’s going to save me, and God, how I wish it were. But I know the truth. If I say yes, it’s condemning you right alongside me. I’ll be the one dragging you under instead of you pulling me out.”
She knew her world better than I did, but I wasn’t done fighting for her yet. Her answer might be a no today, but deep down, I had faith that one day it would turn into a yes. I didn’t care how long it took. I would still be right here.
“Okay.” I nodded.
Arching an eyebrow, she sighed. “I’ve been on the receiving end of that okay a few too many times to believe you’re going to drop this.”
I shrugged. “What do you want me to do, Gemma? Throw a tantrum like a toddler who didn’t get their way and walk out that door because you said no? Will that make you feel better?”
“No, but I’ve seen how you operate. You’re a sneaky motherfucker when you want something, Sasha.”
An idea struck.
“How about this.” I pressed the ring box into her hands. “You hold onto this.”
“Sasha, I—”
“When you’re ready, you put it on. Whether you legally take my name or not, you’re mine. Nothing’s going to change that. I’ll still be here every day, taking care of you.” I took a deep breath before adding, “Loving you.”
Gemma sucked in a sharp breath.
“I can appreciate that you’ve never seen love in action or been on the receiving end of it before, but if you look back on our time together, you’ll realize that I’ve poured my love for you into every action since the day we met.”
She let out a weak scoff. “How did you do that at the DMV?”
My lips twitched, fighting back a smile. “Who do you think convinced them not to call the cops and press charges for assault, Kitten?”
Her lips parted on an exhale, and her eyes snapped to mine. “You didn’t.”
Pulling my hands from hers, I was relieved as hell when the ring box didn’t clatter to the ground. Cupping her cheeks, I pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “I love you, Gemma. Exactly as you are.”
The last thing I expected was for her to throw her arms around my neck and cling to me like I was her lifeline, but I welcomed it. Hugging her close to me, I whispered over and over how much I loved her.
It had been a hell of an afternoon. It began with her sharing the secrets of her past, which led to my impromptu proposal and her subsequent rejection, followed by a confession of my love.
Emotions ran high through it all, but we were making progress. The rest would fall into place when the time was right.