Until this day, taking this extended time to
appreciate every photo while she waited for Carlo to bring poor,
sweet Trey home, Sabina had not noticed how comparatively few the
photos of Joey and Rosa were. She thought she understood why—most
likely, Teresa had been the family archivist, and she had probably
been the one who had selected and framed photos for the hallway.
Perhaps she’d even been the frequent photographer, too. When she
fell ill and died, the family had lost its historian. And Joey and
Rosa lost their place in the family a little.
Sabina knew the timeline, and knew that
Carlo, Carmen, Luca, and John were all grown when Teresa died. She
also knew that Carlo and Carmen had taken up the raising of Joey
and Rosa, and that they had not been neglected. But standing here,
steeped in a dense, loving history, Sabina recognized something
that perhaps the Paganos themselves were too close to see. Joey and
Rosa
had
been neglected. Not in an active way, not on
purpose, but simply because they had been raised in a different
family than the others. Their history was broken in two.
A lump grew in her throat as she understood
that, and Sabina resolved to make a better effort to be patient
with Rosa. Perhaps even to reach out to her, if she would allow it.
And Joey. Sweet Joey. When he was well, Sabina would sit him down
and talk with him. He was a good boy—no. He was a man. He was a
good man. Only lost.
She was still standing in the hallway when
Elsa, who’d been lying at the end of the hall, stood and went to
the front of the house. The door opened. Sabina went around the
corner and saw Carlo, Trey sleeping on his shoulder, standing with
Nick, his cousin.
His voice low, Carlo said, “Thanks, man. I
got it from here.”
Nick nodded. His air of intensity and menace
still made Sabina nervous, even though she’d had a chance to speak
with him once or twice, and he’d seemed pleasant enough. “Yeah.
Take it easy, coz. I guess my dad’ll be in touch. Or Uncle
Ben.”
He gave Elsa a quick ruffle and then left,
and Carlo closed the door. He turned to Sabina. “Hi, baby. I’m so
glad you’re here.”
“I’d be nowhere else. He is good?” She went
to them and put her hand on Trey’s slim back. He was lying with his
cheek on his father’s shoulder, his open mouth lax and a little
smooshed. She cocked her head and looked more closely. His upmost
cheek was mottled with bruising. She looked up and found Carlo
watching her, his beautiful brown eyes full of pain. “Carlo?”
“We’ll talk, but I need to get him down.
Uncle Ben is sending his doctor over, and we can expect the cops to
show. I need to tell you our story, so you have it straight. And
then I’ll tell you about our night—or, our morning, I guess.” He
headed toward the staircase, and Sabina followed.
“You must be exhausted. Can you rest?”
“I’m not tired. I will be, I’m sure. But my
head is too busy.” Trey fussed and stirred as they topped the
stairs. “Hey, pal. We’re home.”
Trey lifted a sad, sleepy face and looked
around. “Home?”
“Yep. All safe.” Elsa licked Trey’s leg, and
he looked down at her. Carlo smiled. “See? Elsa’s been waiting for
you.” He went into Trey’s room. “And look. Ms. Bina got your bed
all ready for you. You think you can sleep more?”
Trey nodded, and Carlo took off his shoes
and socks, his dirty shirt and shorts. While Carlo undressed him,
Sabina went to the window and pulled the curtains closed, taking
the sunlight out of the room.
As Carlo tried to tuck him into his sleeping
bag, Trey muttered, “Chomp chomp.”
“You want your shark socks?”
Trey nodded, and Carlo looked up at Sabina
with a real smile. “You did good, Bina.” He grabbed the socks from
the top of Trey’s little dresser and slid them on his feet. “How’s
that, pal?”
“Elsie.”
“She’s right here.” Carlo patted the
mattress next to Trey’s head, and Elsa laid her head next to her
boy’s. She was so big she didn’t even have to get up from where
she’d lain next to the bed. Trey hooked an arm over the dog’s neck
and stuck his thumb into his mouth.
“I’ll be very close, Trey. Right here if you
need me. You sleep. Everything’s good now. Okay?”
Already asleep, Trey didn’t answer. Carlo
took Sabina’s elbow and led her from the room.
When they were in the hallway, Sabina asked,
“Was he hurt?”
Carlo led her into his—their?—bedroom and
sat her on the bed. He sat next to her. “Not too much. She hit him,
and he has a couple of other bruises, like he got grabbed hard. He
hasn’t talked much. We’ll have Dr. Kerr give him a look-over and
make sure, but he’ll be okay.”
Sabina watched his fists clenching and
unclenching and wondered how much Carlo believed of what he was
saying to her. “And her?”
“She won’t be a problem ever again. Don’t
know about the guy. Know his name, but he bailed before we found
‘em. The Uncles still have people on it, but the important thing is
Trey is home. We didn’t lose him.” His voice cracked. “I didn’t
lose him.”
Sabina put her arms around him. “No. He’s
here. He’s with you. Where he belongs.” Carlo leaned over then,
into her, as if his body had gone boneless. She held him more
tightly and tucked his head against her neck. Combing her fingers
through his hair, she whispered, “I love you, Carlo.
Te
amo
.”
All of a sudden, he wasn’t boneless anymore.
He was the opposite of boneless. His tense hands came around her
and clutched at her clothes, pulling her closer to him. She felt
his mouth, his teeth and tongue, on her neck, and she realized what
was happening. She was surprised, but if it was what he needed, she
was willing.
More than that—his need of her made her more
than willing. When only moments ago she’d felt nothing more than
tenderness and devotion, now she felt passion and a need of her
own. When he turned and laid her back on the bed, his fingers
clutching at the opening of her shorts and his mouth sucking and
biting at her throat and shoulders, she helped him get her clothes
off and then spread wide beneath him.
He didn’t undress. He only opened his jeans,
and then he was on her, in her, harder and rougher than he’d been
before with her, grunting in her ear with every thrust. He slid his
hands under her and hooked them over her shoulders, holding her so
that every surge into her was as deep and fierce as possible. The
bedroom door was open; she hoped that both Trey and Carlo Sr.
stayed asleep.
Beset by a tempest of sensations and
emotions, Sabina knew she would not come. The part of her that
still remembered her past life, that was trained to respond in
certain ways, pushed her to pretend, made her worry that there
might be repercussions if she did not appear to have had
pleasure.
But this was not her past life, and Carlo
was not Auberon. He was being rough; he was fucking her, not making
love, not even really paying attention to her, but he was not
Auberon, and this need came from a different place. She knew that
she need not pretend.
It wasn’t that she was feeling no pleasure,
or that he was hurting her. She felt passion for him; she wanted
this. But she was too worried about him, about Trey, about the
immediate and distant futures, too heartsick about Joey and even
about Rosa, now, to be able to take the deep, rich, overpowering
pleasure that sex with Carlo brought her. The pleasure she felt now
was from being what he needed, giving him something that he clearly
needed, being present for him. Being strong for him.
He came with a final, powerful thrust and a
groan, and then he was quiet. Sabina brought her hands to his head
and threaded her fingers into his wild hair again. She held him
while he recovered his breath.
With a deep sigh, he lifted his head and
looked down at her. “Fuck. Bina…I…I’m sorry. I don’t know what that
was. I’m just…having control problems. I’m sorry.”
“Shhh. It’s all right. I know. I know what
it was, and it’s all right. Are you better?”
She could see him considering that question.
“I am. I feel like I can breathe. He withdrew from her and lay at
her side, his hand trailing over her chest and belly. When he
cupped her breast and rubbed his thumb over her nipple, she caught
his hand to stop him.
His brow furrowed. “I want to do for
you.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I think instead
there are things to talk about, yes?”
He sat up and took a deep breath. “Yeah,
there are.” He looked over his shoulder at her. “I really am sorry,
Bina. I shouldn’t have gone at you like that.”
“Hush, Carlo.” She scooted off the bed and
found her clothes. “Let’s talk.”
~oOo~
Not even an hour after their talk, they were
sitting in the living room with Agents Darby and Kohl, and Carlo
was repeating the story he’d shared with Sabina. He’d called them
after she had the story down. Trey was still asleep; she had
checked on him as Carlo went to answer the agents’ knock.
“I can’t tell you anything else. We were
home. My brother is doing a little better, and we’re doing shifts
now at the hospital. Sabina and I were up—we couldn’t sleep. Then
she basically did a ring and run. She just dropped him off and left
as soon as I opened the door.”
Darby didn’t look like she believed the
story, but she didn’t challenge it. “Did you see what car she left
in—if she was still with Mark Rand or the same car, anything?”
“Honestly, I didn’t care. I had Trey in my
arms, and I didn’t go after her. You can’t see the street from the
front door, so for all I know, she got sucked up into a spaceship
and carted off to her home planet.”
“And you, Mrs. Auberon?”
She hated hearing herself referred to in
that way. Hated it violently. But she smiled. “I’m sorry, I can’t
add more than what Carlo has said. We were here. She came to the
door and left Trey. I wasn’t at the door, so I saw less even than
Carlo.”
Kohl asked, “You didn’t look out a window?
Anything?”
“No, I apologize. I was in the hallway.”
Darby sighed. “We need to talk to Trey, Mr.
Pagano.”
“Absolutely not. He was traumatized, but now
it’s over. It’s over. For him, it is completely over. No
discussion.”
“You understand that Trey isn’t safe if
she’s still out there.” Darby closed her notepad and leaned
forward. Sabina noticed that she’d said ‘if’ and not ‘while’; she
wondered if that was a telling choice. “She could do it again at
any time. This case is not closed just because you have your son
back. A crime was committed. A federal crime. We need information
to solve it.”
“I understand. But you are not talking to my
son. Ever.”
“You seem calm for a man whose son was
abducted at gunpoint. I’d think you’d want justice and security for
your kid.” Kohl was regarding him through eyes narrow with
suspicion.
“I’m not calm. And I do want justice and
security. I’m helping every way I can. My first priority is to my
son, though, and this ordeal is
over
for him.”
Darby stood, and Kohl followed. “All right,
then. You have our card. Get in touch if there’s anything else you
want to tell us.”
Carlo showed them out and then came back to
sit on the sofa with Sabina. She put her hand on his knee. “Is that
it, then?”
“I doubt it. I’m sure they don’t believe us,
and I expect they have pretty accurate suspicions about what really
happened. The Uncles are well known to the Feds. But there’s a
reason neither of them has ever even been arrested, in maybe fifty
years of this work. They’re good. They have a firm grasp on the
line between what’s known and what can be proved. We haven’t heard
the last of the agents, but eventually they’ll put their resources
elsewhere.”
They sat quietly, for a while, and then
Sabina said a thing that had been gnawing at the edges of her mind
since she and Carlo had talked earlier. “We both have spouses your
Uncle Ben has saved us from, in some way. There is blood on our
hands. And we owe your uncles a great deal.”
“No, Bina. It’s important that you think
about this the right way, because ‘owing,’ with the Uncles, means
something specific. They deserve our gratitude and respect, and
they have it. That’s all. I was willing to owe, but we don’t. Uncle
Ben did what he did for you, and for me, out of love and honor.
Because we’re family. There’s no debt.” He turned and took her
hands. “Do you regret it? Is that why you said we have blood on our
hands?”
“No. Truly, I don’t. But it’s quite a thing,
I think, to be responsible, even…sideways? Is that right?...for
someone’s life ending. It’s not a thing I thought I’d know. Do you
regret?”
Carlo was quiet. “I don’t. When I saw Trey’s
bruises, I could have killed her with my hands, and I would have,
except my hands were full of Trey. There were a few times while she
had him when I felt out of control and would happily have bashed
her head in. But…I did love her, once. I think I had blinders on,
and made excuses or didn’t even notice some of the ways she
was…just wrong. Carmen says I have a hero complex and I didn’t see
Jenny for who she was because she needed me so much. Carm was
worried that I would love you because I had saved you.” He squeezed
her hands. “That’s not true. You know that’s not true, right?”