And then she pushed him away. He felt the
pressure of her hands on his shoulders first, pushing, but not
hard. Then she tipped her head down, away from his lips, but not
away from him. She brushed her cheek against his.
“No. We can’t. Carlo, we can’t.”
God, the way she said his name. Her tongue
massaged
it, turning the R into its own syllable. He could
listen to her say that one word forever. The thought of her saying
it in passion, as he was inside her, bringing her to ecstasy, had
kept him awake most of the night, and most likely would again
tonight.
He didn’t want to hear that they couldn’t go
farther, but he knew she was right. Moreover, he knew that he
couldn’t go farther as things were now and live with himself in the
long run. And even more: if he did intend to go to his Uncle Ben
and ask for his help, then his case would be immeasurably stronger
if he had not cuckolded another man. Beniamino Pagano had rigid
ideas about honor and morality, and he would denounce any man,
family or not, who knew another man’s wife carnally. Even if she
had made the break, Uncle Ben would look askance at a relationship
that happened before her marriage was ended. But he would have no
patience at all for full-bore adultery, regardless of the
circumstances of the marriage.
Gasping, he kissed her again, chastely, so
that she didn’t pull farther away. “I know. Not yet. We can’t yet.
But Bina, I want you. God, I can barely think of anything
else.”
Now she pushed harder on his shoulders and
shrank back from him. “No. I don’t want you to say that. Don’t,
please, tell me that you are obsessed. Please, that is not…is not a
way to be good. That is the trap I’m in now already. Please.”
She was tense and trembling now in his arms,
pushing away, no longer the pliant, hopeful lover she’d been during
their kiss. And he understood.
“No—Bina, no. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to
scare you.” He sat back, releasing her, feeling a sharp sense of
loss when she sat away and straightened into a perfect, rigid
posture.
He had no way of sorting out how she was
tangling him up with her husband right now. In these brief seconds
that they’d become closer, he’d felt that what Auberon had done to
her was deeper and more complex than simple abuse and control. And
he’d inadvertently played into that. To reassure her would require
a conversation he was incapable of having now, with his pulse
pounding and his cock throbbing. So he turned his focus to the
immediately practical matters.
“You can’t go back to that house. We need to
find somewhere for you to go.”
In a clear sign of irritation, she huffed
and met his eyes. As irritated as she now obviously was, Carlo
could see that she, too, had been profoundly affected by their
kiss. “I must go back. There is no choice.”
“He’s having you followed. You’re not safe
there.”
“Because I’m followed, I must go back. He
will know if I don’t, and then his plan will change. I need
time.”
“Plan? What plan?”
At his question, her eyes widened, and he
knew that she had said more than she’d meant to. “It’s no matter.
But I must go back. We will…meet more, if you wish.” Again, she
moved to rise, and again, he held her back.
“Bina, what plan?”
The silence of her hesitation stretched out
into awkwardness. Carlo tried to read the storm in her eyes and
predict what she might say, or understand what she would not, but
her turmoil was too strong.
She swallowed, at last, and licked her lips,
the tongue that had writhed with his coming out to leave a sultry
shine. “He intends, I think, to kill me. For one of his people
to…soon, I think. I’m sure.” Her eyes dropped away from his.
Carlo was surprised by how little that
surprised him. He didn’t think for an instant to doubt her. What
caught his attention more was that she would go back even as he was
offering to help her find an option. With a finger under her chin,
he lifted her face gently so that he could look into her eyes
again. “You know this? And you’re still going back?”
“Yes. Now. So that he has no more suspicion
than already he has. But I will see you again?” She stood, and this
time he didn’t hold her back. Somehow, he knew he shouldn’t.
“Yes, you will. But Bina—”
“Carlo.” She lifted his hand to her lips and
kissed his knuckles, and then she simply turned and left.
~oOo~
He’d let her go, but he was worried. She’d
said she was being followed, she’d said she was sure her husband
planned to have her killed, and yet he’d let her go.
There’d been no choice. She was skittish
when he tried to take the lead; even when he’d tried to hold her
back from a fall, she’d torn herself away from him, and he’d known
he’d pushed too often against that boundary when they’d spoken at
Quinn’s. She’d said it outright—she was already controlled too
much. Every time he’d tried to persuade her, she felt controlled,
and then she saw him in Auberon’s light. So he’d let her go.
When he’d left the pub, he’d looked around
but hadn’t seen her. So he’d gone back to his father’s house and
spent the evening with Trey, trying not to obsess. Trying, but
failing.
Only Rosa still lived with their father, and
only in the summer, but only he lived out of town. Carmen, Luca,
John, and Joey all had places of their own in Quiet Cove or at
least nearby. So the house was quiet on Sunday. They’d had a dinner
of pasta and grilled chicken, prepared by Rosa in the kitchen and
their father at the grill, and they’d finished the evening together
in the living room, watching
The Iron Giant
with Trey, who’d
watched from the snug perch of Pop-Pop’s lap.
After Trey’s bath and bedtime, once he was
tucked in and sleeping, Carlo, feeling restless and scattered,
grabbed the leash off the hook in the kitchen. Rosa was cleaning
up, emptying the dishwasher, and she looked up when Elsa began her
joyful going-for-a-walk dance.
“Kinda late, isn’t it?” She was young, his
baby sister, but she wasn’t stupid, and the look she gave him now
was suspicious. Sabina had been the subject of a lot of family talk
since last night, and especially since he’d gone off to meet with
her.
It wasn’t that late, not even nine o’clock.
But she wasn’t talking about time. “Just need to burn off some
energy before bed, Peanut.”
“Down to the beach?” She crossed her arms
over her chest.
“Don’t know. Just walking. Don’t be a brat.”
He hooked the leash on Elsa’s collar and headed toward the front
door. He had no intention of walking the dog almost a mile to the
beach and then two miles down shore, and then all the way back.
He’d have to carry the beast before a walk that long on sandy
terrain was over. But he was drawn to the shore nevertheless—and
yes, with the idea that he would be closer to Bina, even if he
would not see her.
As he wrapped his hand around the heavy
brass doorknob, his father called, quietly, “Junior.” Carlo turned
and saw him sitting in the dark living room, in his big, leather
chair. In the shadows, only his legs, and the glint of his glass of
scotch, were clearly visible.
“Hey, Pop. Taking the dog out for a late
walk.” He turned the knob.
“You know what you’re doing?”
“Walking the dog, Pop.”
“Don’t treat me like you think I’m slow,
boy. You know I’m not. You’re not, either. You know what you’re
doing could take us all down.”
Carlo walked into the room, Elsa following
him on her leash. He sat on the edge of the table in front of the
sofa, facing his father, and the dog sat at his heel, waiting
patiently for the promised walk.
He was done evading. Tomorrow, he would meet
with Uncle Ben, and there would be no place for evasions. “He hurts
her, Pop. He hurts her a lot.”
Carlo Sr. set his glass on the small table
at the side of his chair and leaned forward. “Answer me straight,
Junior. Are you fucking this man’s wife?”
He could answer this question both correctly
and truthfully. “No, sir. I’m not. I want to help her.”
“And you want to fuck her.”
He was relieved that his father believed
that he hadn’t yet slept with her, and that he hadn’t even paused
to consider his veracity. “It’s complicated.”
His father laughed. “Always is. He’s a
powerful man. He could do us real damage. The kind we don’t recover
from. He doesn’t walk away from an insult.”
“I want to talk to Uncle Ben. He can’t do us
damage if they’re involved. He can’t take them. Not even Auberon
has that kind of juice.”
There was an electric moment of stunned
silence, and then Carlo Sr. sat forward. “Christ, boy. You
understand what that means, I know you do. I love my brothers. They
are good to us. They are family. But their way is a hard way. I’m
losing Joey to that. I can’t lose you, too.”
Joey was starting with the Uncles as a
runner. Carlo Sr. had had an explosive argument with him about it
after Mass, and had even called Uncle Ben to try to intercede, but
it was a done deal, and it was what Joey wanted. Their father had
worked all their lives to keep them away from that family business.
Carlo saw that with his intention to go to the Uncles he was piling
onto his father’s worry, but there was nothing he could do about
it.
“I’ll be okay, Pop. I’m not going over to
that side. Just asking for help.”
“You’re smarter than that, Junior. You know
damn well that favors your Uncles do must be repaid with interest.
Are you sure you want to give Ben a marker like that?”
“I am.” He knew the dangerous waters he was
entering. But he couldn’t turn his back on Bina, and the Uncles
were the only way. Even if Auberon’s reputation didn’t have ‘the
soft focus,’ he was known to be a vindictive, ruthless adversary.
If Bina was right, and he was worse than people knew, well—then
only someone who operated like he did could succeed against
him.
Uncle Ben and Uncle Lorrie. Who won. Always.
In half a century of power, they had not lost.
“And you say you just met this girl.”
“Yes. Pop, it’s about more than what I want.
Even without that, I can’t turn my back and let him hurt her. He’s
an evil piece of filth. Maybe fighting him for her weakens him
somehow. Maybe it makes things better for us, too. If the Uncles
fight with us, it weakens him.”
“Now you’re telling yourself fairy tales.
It’s not just a matter of Ben and Lorrie taking up for you, and you
know it. I know you’ve had a tough year. What Jenny did—I know that
rocked you. Rocked us all. You’ve lost your balance, son. You need
to think. Walk the dog in the other direction tonight. Then sleep
on it.” He stood and ruffled Elsa’s ears. “If you do this, know
what you’re laying down for a woman you don’t know.”
With that, Carlo Sr. left the room and went
up the stairs. Carlo knew he’d be awake for hours in his room,
watching random reruns on cable television until he fell asleep.
He’d been an insomniac since their mother had died, but he always
holed himself up in his room, alone, before ten o’clock.
Elsa fidgeted and whined quietly, getting
impatient, and Carlo took her out the front door and down Caravel
Road. Toward the beach.
~oOo~
The other family business was conducted in a
warehouse at the Quiet Cove Harbor. The sign painted in large, dark
green script on both the road side and the water side of the long,
low building read
Pagano Brothers Shipping
, and legitimate
business was conducted during regular business hours every week of
the year. Over-the-road trucking and some limited coastal water
transport. It was a perfect front for the other part of the
business, and Uncle Ben and Uncle Lorrie ran both sides
expertly.
The shipping company had been started by
their father, Gavino Pagano, with one truck he’d bought secondhand
and had driven himself, staying within New England, so that he
could spend most of his nights at home with his young family.
Working twelve and fourteen hour days, six days a week—seven,
counting the paperwork and accounting he and his wife, Cella, did
on Sundays—he’d built the company up to a modestly successful
legitimate business. During the heyday of the Mafia, he’d held off
the pressure to bring the company into that fold with humility and
dogged determination, by offering up the respect those more
powerful than he demanded and not being swayed by the shiny things
those powerful men dangled before him.
He and Cella had three sons, Beniamino,
Lorenzo, and Carlo, and a daughter, Anita, who died of measles
before she was school age. As the boys grew old enough to be of
use, they worked at the company. As they became old enough to learn
the business, they were brought into the office and shown. The boys
took different lessons away from those insights behind their
father’s office door. Carlo had seen their father hold to his
principles and find fulfillment in that integrity more than in
material gain. He had seen a strength in his father, a humble man
who was nonetheless able to turn away men who exuded power and
menace with every exhale.