20. Marchella
CHAPTER 20
MARCHELLA
I open my eyes a crack early the next morning. Roman’s arms are wrapped securely around me and they tighten when I shift on the mattress. Bella is still snuggled into me, her body warm and calm against mine.
My sleep was fitful at best, splintered with nightmares and haunting words and images that made me cry out more than once.
But Roman never moved from my side. He held me as I wept for my brother, for my father, for fucking everything I’ve lost.
It feels like my heart was shredded, stomped on, and then shoved back into my chest.
Images that I will never forget will likely torment me until the day I die.
But what’s worse are the unresolved emotions flooding my mind and soul.
The deceit, the anger, the betrayal…
My God, it feels like I didn’t even know my brother.
All of this time, I’ve been working my ass off to save us and he’d only been working to save himself.
My gut twists.
As much as I despise him for what he did to us and how I let his lies dictate my actions, I miss him…so much.
I choke back a sob and Roman nuzzles my neck. “Why did he have to do all of that?” I whisper. “Why the hell did he have to ruin everything?”
“Hey,” Roman whispers. “You’ll never understand what went through his head, Chell. People grieve in different ways.”
“How can you be so matter-of-fact?” I ask, twisting my head to look at him. “After everything he did to you and your family? To those guys he killed? He didn’t give a damn about anyone but himself. He let my dad take the fall for him. I mean, because of his stupid ass choices, I was kidnapped!”
“And did that turn out so badly for you?” he asks, a smile tugging at his lips.
I sniffle. “No, but that’s not the point.”
“I know. And you have a lot of rage inside of you right now. I get it. I’d feel the same way. But you need to figure out a way to move past it. He went off the deep end, yeah, but you shouldn’t remember that part. You need to hold onto everything else, otherwise you’ll be poisoning yourself every time you think of him.” He drops a kiss onto my forehead. “Besides, now you’re going to make things right with your dad. That’s a good thing.”
“Great. One good thing,” I mumble.
“You have me, too,” he says. “And Bella.”
I shake my head. “No, we need to take her to the police. I can’t keep her in good conscience. She needs to be with her rightful owners. I’ve lost too much to deny someone else the happiness she can bring. We’ve already kept her for too long.”
Roman’s brow furrows. “Are you sure?”
I nod. “Yes.” My heart is already breaking. Why not say goodbye to one more thing?
“We’ll stop on our way to see your dad.” His lips stretch into a tight line. “If it’s what you really want.”
“It is,” I say, swiping at my eyes. “I’m going to take a quick shower and then we can get going.”
He nods. “Okay. Do you want anything to eat? Coffee?”
“I can’t even think about it,” I murmur. “And then later…we need to talk about what we’re…what happens with…” I take a deep breath. “What we do with the…body.”
I gently lay Bella next to Roman and slide out of the bed, grabbing some of the clothes he bought me the day before during our shopping spree.
My temples throb as I brush my teeth and turn on the hot shower spray. The water scalds my skin, making it tingle. It mixes with the tears running down my face as the events from the last twenty-four hours replay in my mind.
I don’t know how much time passes while I stand there. Could be minutes. Could be hours. But instead of making me feel better, more refreshed, the shower only fuels my fury.
I wasted so much time, so much energy, so much of everything to make a better life for someone who didn’t even think enough about me to do the same.
We were strangers, and that realization makes the tears fall faster and harder.
I finally step out of the shower, moving around like a zombie.
Roman takes a quick shower once I am finished and I spend a few minutes playing with Bella before my heart takes its final, I hope, beating of the day.
One of Roman’s guys drops off a car for us to drive since the Bentley is in desperate need of body work. We climb into the BMW 7 series and I hold Bella tight in my lap as he drives uptown toward the police station in Inwood.
A fleeting thought occurs to me when I remember the rent on our apartment is overdue.
Our apartment.
A gaggle of tears forms in my throat as Roman makes a turn down Shipwell Avenue and pulls up to the curb. He turns off the ignition and looks at me. “You sure you want to do this?” he asks.
I take a deep breath. “Yes, at least someone should be happy today.”
He snakes an arm around me as we walk inside with Bella. We stop in front of a one-way mirror and pick up the phone to let them know the reason for our visit. A few minutes later, a tall officer with kind eyes walks out and motions for us to follow him. He introduces himself as Officer Johnson.
He asks some questions about Bella — where we found her, if we’d seen her before that day, if she’d had on a collar.
She clings to me like she knows something is about to change for the worse, and I hold her tight because I know she’s right.
Officer Johnson brings us into a room and takes a device out of one of the drawers of the desk. “This is a chip reader,” he explains. “So it’ll tell us all of the information we need to locate her owners.”
I nod, and what feels like a watermelon-sized lump forms in my throat. I can’t even squeak out a response.
Officer Johnson holds the reader out to the top of her neck and presses a button. His brows furrow and he holds it over each of her hind legs.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
He keeps clicking the damn thing.
How many chips are there, for Christ’s sake?
“That’s strange,” he murmurs, trying the underside of her belly.
“What?” I rasp, clearing my throat.
“Well, the reader isn’t registering anything,” he says. “I’ve checked her out from head to toe and I can’t find a chip anywhere.”
My heart hammers in my chest. “Wait…so what does that mean?” I ask.
He shrugs. “It means I can’t locate her owner. There’s one other thing I can look at, though,” he says, his fingers flying over the keyboard sitting on top of the desk. He frowns at the screen, scrolling through whatever appears in front of him.
The silence is deafening and finally, I have to ask. “Is there anything in the system?”
Roman squeezes my shoulder and my heart damn near stops beating as we wait for his answer.
He finally looks away from the screen and throws his hands in the air. “I can’t find a single thing about this dog.”
My eyes widen. “So, wait, what happens to her, then?”
Officer Johnson grins at me. “Well, are you volunteering to adopt her?”
I almost jump out of my chair. “Are you serious?” I squeak, tears pooling in my eyes yet again.
“I certainly am. You’ll have to fill out some paperwork, but since we don’t have any record of her, she can be yours if you want her.”
I squeeze her tight, burying my head in her glossy fur. “Did you hear that, baby? You’re coming home with us.”
Bella’s big eyes open even wider as she goes to town, attacking me with her tongue. I giggle-sniffle as she laps up my tears.
The first happy ones I’ve cried today.
* * *
A chill shuttles through me as I walk down a long hallway of white cinderblocks. My sneakers squeak on the shiny tile floor, the sound reverberating between the walls in the stark space. The guard leading me toward the prison visiting room unlocks the steel gate at the end of the corridor, pulling it open. He points toward a doorway.
“Take a seat at the glass and pick up the phone to talk,” he says in a no-nonsense tone that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
I nod and take a few tentative steps into the room. A few others are there, chatting in hushed tones to the inmates whom they are visiting. I walk toward the stool at the far end of the row and sink onto the cold plastic stool as I wait for Papa to appear. I stick my thumbnail into my mouth and nibble it, my eyes darting left and right. There are multiple guards standing around the perimeter of the visitor room and even more guarding the prisoners on the other side of the glass.
Finally, Papa is led over to me by a guard who unlocks his handcuffs so he can pick up the phone. His appearance makes my heart ache. His eyes are heavy with dark circles underneath them. His skin is ashen and worn with deep wrinkles covering areas where only a few small lines took up residence before. His hair is graying, his body so much thinner.
I clap a hand over my mouth to prevent the whimper from escaping my lips.
I need to get a hold of myself, for fuck’s sake.
I know how much I’ve missed but I’m here now.
That’s what counts.
Papa’s lips lift into a smile as he speaks into the phone. His deep, raspy voice is so familiar and I’ve missed it…a lot more than I would have ever imagined.
“ Bellisima ,” he says. “I am so happy to see you.”
I try to return the smile, but I can’t. My lips quiver, my shoulders quake. “Papa, I’m so sorry…so sorry for turning my back on you. I didn’t know what happened that night. I didn’t know the truth. And even if it was true, I never should have ignored you that way and left you here by yourself.”
He shakes his head. “Don’t cry, mi amore . I always knew Frankie would get you to come for a visit.”
“I-I shouldn’t have waited,” I sputter. “I should have come on my own.”
“I am just so happy to see you,” he whispers, a tear in his eye. “I don’t care why you didn’t come before.” He peers behind me. “Did you come alone? Is Frankie with you?”
“No, Papa.” I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand, my voice cracking as I deliver the news that no parent ever wants to hear. “Something happened. Something bad, and he…he…” I shake my head, knowing I need to speak the words, but also fearing what the reality will do to my father who’s already lost so much.
But Papa doesn’t need me to say a thing. He can see it in my eyes and on my face, and big tears slide down his sunken cheeks as we grieve over our loss.
I long to reach out and grab him, to pull him close and to bury my head in his neck like I did when I was a little girl who needed the comfort of her papa. Back then, I always believed he’d protect me and keep me safe.
I know he’d do the same right now if he could.
Except now he’s behind bars serving a life sentence for a crime he didn’t commit.
And the Plexiglas prevents me from giving him comfort when he needs it most.
I’ll never be able to hold him, to hug him, to feel his warmth.
I’ll never be able to cry on his shoulder.
I’ll never be able to hold his hand.
And I’ll never be able to kiss him goodbye.
There are so many things I’ll never be able to do…things I took for granted before because I didn’t accept him or the life he lived.
But now I understand his truth and the price he is paying for his own sins.
He may not have killed the Russian soldier, but he battled with others and took plenty from them.
His penance is living with the harsh realization that almost everything good in his life is no longer.
Almost everything.
Because he still has me.
And I still have him.
I hate that I wasted so much time, but at least, I have the rest of his life to make up for it.
That is, if he doesn’t disown me for falling in love with the son of his enemy.
But if it’s one thing I’ve learned in the past twenty-four hours, it’s that the lives we lead are a direct result of the choices we make…good, bad, or otherwise.
I think we’ve both made enough bad ones to last us a lifetime.
It’s time to start making some good ones.
Starting right now.
Judging by the way Papa is looking at me, I know he would agree.