Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Valentina
The last week has been exhilarating and also quite painful.
Who knew concussions were such a full-body experience?
Deuce has lightened my load, babying me even when I tell him I’m fine.
He’s not deterred by my independent nature—what he likes to call my stubborn-mule personality.
He just barrels in and takes care of me anyway, proving he has every intention of putting me first, just like he promised. Almost makes the concussion worth it.
But it’s Thursday now and I’ve been cleared by the doctor. I can officially be out and about without worrying about sunlight, loud noises, or getting jostled in a crowd. Which means I have to face the town. The close-knit town I lied to.
Deuce puts his hand over mine, stilling the fingers that were pulling at a thread on my floral skirt.
His eyes dart from the road to the side of my face as he drives back through the downtown area of Heaven, probably wondering why I’m not reacting excitedly to the news that I’ve been medically cleared.
“Do you have another headache?” he asks quietly. He’s learned over the last week to speak in soft tones so as not to set off a pounding in my skull. I think the remaining black eye is quite the reminder.
“No.”
My knee starts twitching up and down, a movement I only realize is happening when Deuce glances down at it.
I still immediately. There’s no point trying to evade his questions.
He knows me too well. Besides, I’ve had a whole week to get better at giving a voice to my feelings, especially the tender ones I normally tuck away so no one thinks I’m soft.
“I’m just not sure if this town is going to welcome me after everything that went down. They all know who I am now. I mean, the newspaper hasn’t stopped talking about the incident out at the cabin and it’s been a week!”
“To be fair, nothing happens here, so the kidnapping and shootout was pretty exciting,” Deuce drawls.
“Deuce!”
He winces. “Okay, okay. Yeah, you’re pretty much the topic of every piece of gossip right now, but not in an angry way. Everyone’s just glad you’re alive and well.”
I narrow my eyes and study him. His thumb taps the steering wheel lightly. His face is schooled into a nonchalant half smile that looks way too practiced. He’s good, but he’s acting too casual, I can just tell. I know this man as well as he knows me.
“Oh my God, they hate me.” I wrench my hand out from under his and fold my arms against my chest. All these people that I didn’t care to get to know have somehow come to mean something to me. I care about their acceptance.
Deuce sighs, then pulls the car into a parking spot so far down Saint’s Row, it makes me wonder what we’re doing.
I had plans to hide out in the storage room of his boutique all day.
He turns to me in his charcoal-gray suit with a turquoise tie and pocket square, looking like he doesn’t belong outside of Milan or New York City.
“They don’t hate you. They do wonder why you didn’t tell them who you really were right from the beginning.” He lifts a single shoulder. “They probably feel a bit lied to, and nobody likes that.”
“As they should! I did lie to them, Deuce!” I throw my hands in the air, unable to keep them tucked under my legs.
“I was the head of a crime family, not some meek woman outrunning a bad relationship that I didn’t want to tell anyone about.
” I lean in, my voice a desperate whisper shout. “I’ve killed people!”
We both know I make a good point. Not many people around here have seen the things I’ve seen, or done the things themselves. Heaven is full of understanding people who accept you for who you are, but a mafia boss might be a bit of a stretch, even for them.
“Well, we just need to have you set the record straight. Tell them the God’s honest, hand on the Bible, truth.”
I gape at him, horrified. “No! I can’t tell them the truth! The truth is…well, it’s Bettina-level horrifying!”
Deuce involuntarily flinches at the mention of his mother.
We’ve successfully dodged her calls and texts for a whole week.
We both know our luck is going to run out soon, but Deuce wanted to wait until I was cleared of my concussion before we speak to her.
Thankfully, she’s had a lot of cleanup to do back in New York now that the head rat was exposed.
“Okay, so not the whole truth about your background. You don’t need to give them a detailed job description, but maybe you could just address the rumors head-on.
Confirm your prior job, then shift the focus to your hopes and dreams.” He takes my hands in his.
“You’re still excited to live here full-time? ”
“Yes, of course. I already scheduled the movers to clean out my New York apartment and send everything here.”
Deuce shrugs like it’s just that easy. “Tell people that. Get them excited about you being here all the time. I’ll kiss you and tell you how much I love you and the rumors will be about us, instead of just you.”
I blow out a breath, hoping he’s right. “Okay.”
“That’s my girl.” He beams at me, kisses the back of my hands, and shuts off the car. “Now let’s get some produce from the farmer’s market. Our fridge is looking bare and I want to cook for my love.”
It still does something to me when he calls me that. I can’t believe the teenager who was in love with Deuce St. Legare is now living with him and planning a future together.
He comes around to open my door, takes my hand, and confidently sets off down the sidewalk toward the park in the center of downtown. I drag my feet for the first few steps. Then a voice in the back of my head starts blaring, much louder than any of the voices have been this past week.
Are we really going to step out in public and be meek?
Heavens, no. There’s never been one meek bone in my body and not even a little white lie and a shootout at a cabin will make me act that way.
My nose tilts upward, my shoulders roll back to show off my fabulous breasts in this cute little top, and my stride soon matches Deuce’s. If I’m going to show Heaven who I really am, I intend to never lie again. They’ll either love me or hate me, but at least we’ll all know who I am.
“There they are!” Betsy hollers from across the street. She’s got Harlow in a stroller and the little girl is waving at me like I’m her new favorite auntie. Seeing as I’m staying in Heaven, I have every intention of earning that distinction by spoiling the crap out of her.
“Hope you don’t mind I called in reinforcements,” Deuce says out of the side of his sexy mouth.
Silas grins from beside Betsy. Mary London waves as she bounces little Ophelia in a carrier. Rhett, my shotgun savior, gives a head nod of greeting, always cool as a cucumber. They all take turns giving us hugs as they welcome us into the group.
A farmer’s market is spread out behind them, tent after tent filled with shoppers and sellers of everything from handmade tallow soap to farm-fresh produce to carved American flags made out of walnut and hard maple.
A band is playing country covers on the opposite side of the park, the perfect vibe for breaking out the wallet and buying a ten-dollar beer.
Though I feel heads turning our direction, I focus on our friends instead. The girls link arms with me and we slowly meander through the farmer’s market. The boys are behind us, but every time I look over my shoulder, Deuce’s gaze is locked on me.
It’s when I overhear a whispered question from the guy who owns the local grocery store that I realize Deuce might be right. I need to confront these rumors head-on or they may never stop.
“You think our kids are safe with her around?”
I know what they must think. I brought kidnappers into their precious town, resulting in multiple deaths and arrests. I led a crime family in New York. It’s a fair question. One I’ve wondered myself.
“Here’s the thing, darlin’,” Mary London trills, turning to me and stopping in her tracks.
I can tell from the fire in her eyes that she heard the question too.
“You just have to lift your head up and confront the rumors. This chicken-fried nonsense is gonna continue until you put a stop to it. You got enough lady balls to do it?”
Betsy sputters out a laugh at Mary London’s directness. I like it.
“I got lady balls.” I dip my head in a confident nod.
“Damn right you do, honey. You go show ’em to the town.”
“Figuratively,” Betsy interjects helpfully.
I march away from them both, intent on clearing some things up before I leave here today. I’ve never been one to shy away from confrontation, and now that I’ve got supplemental progesterone flowing through my veins thanks to the nurse practitioner Deuce took me to, I feel confident once again.
The band wraps up one song, and before they can start on the next, I hop on stage and ask if I can interrupt for just a moment. The lead singer must recognize me because she waves off the guitar player who looks like he might be a bouncer when he’s not playing in the band.
“Will you sign my shirt afterward?” the singer whispers. I take in her ripped T-shirt and dark purple nail polish. She might sing country, but she’s got a bit of rock ’n’ roll in her.
“You betcha, doll.” I take the microphone from her hands and face the crowd of shoppers.
Everyone’s doing their own thing right now, oblivious to my next move.
Deuce and our friends are off to the side, offering encouraging smiles.
Deuce’s smile shows exactly what he’s thinking…
he can’t wait to get me back home now that I’m off medical restrictions.
“Can I have your attention for a minute, Heaven?” My voice reverberates through the speakers. Heads turn, but it takes a bit for the crowd to settle down. “I want to set the record straight about what happened at the cabin.”
Now I’ve got everyone’s attention. Even the vendors leave their tents to get me in their line of sight.
“I don’t want to interrupt your shopping, but I do want to address some rumors.
Hi, I’m Valentina Ricci and I used to head the Barzetti crime family in New York.
I gave that up a while back and hoped to live the rest of my life in peace.
Clearly that didn’t happen. Thanks to good friends here in Heaven who put themselves in the line of danger, I made it out of that situation alive. ” I tip my head to Silas and Rhett.
“I’m sorry for bringing violence to your doorstep.
I promise I’m not the dangerous woman I once was.
In the short time I’ve been here in Heaven, I’ve learned what it means to care for someone.
You all have taught me what it means to be a neighbor.
To lead with a hug instead of a pointy object.
” The crowd titters with laughter and I take that as a good sign.
“I can’t guarantee your safety, but I can assure you I’ll do everything in my power to never bring danger to your kids or your loved ones. Because I have loved ones here in Heaven now too. For the first time in my life, I’ve found a home, not just a house.”
I suck a deep breath of humid Southern air into my lungs and speak my truth.
“I’m Valentina Ricci and I’ve been hopelessly in love with Deuce St. Legare since I was a teenager.
He’s a fixture here in Heaven and I won’t ask him to leave this place for me.
In fact, he’s asked me to stay here with him.
If you’ll let me, I’d like to stay here. ”
I glance around at everyone, gauging their reactions as I’ve been taught to do in a negotiation.
As a changed woman, I know I can’t force them to accept me.
I would have in the past. I would have threatened something near and dear to them to get my way.
But that’s not me anymore. This place, and these people, changed me.
“Think on it and let me know.”
With a forced smile, I hand the microphone back to the lead singer. I hop off the stage and stride confidently back to Deuce, who envelops me in his arms.
“That was the most badass thing I’ve ever seen you do,” he whispers into my hair.
Betsy and Mary London pat my back and offer encouragement, even when I don’t let go of Deuce. I don’t think I’ll ever let go.
“I hope you get at least three blow jobs tonight,” I whisper in his ear, pulling back just enough to bounce my eyebrows suggestively.
His heated grin shoots straight to my heart. “Have I told you lately how much better your insults are getting?”