Bellissimo Lotta (Beautiful Struggle): Companion Novel to Bellissimo Fortuna (The Family Trilogy Book 2) (13 page)

“Sounds good. Call me if things change.” I grab my shit and bolt before I cave and toss everything I’ve worked so hard for . . . all for a girl who was ingrained in every fiber of my being; she filled my life. Without her, my body just doesn’t function. Merely breathing becomes a struggle.

It was a hard transition moving into friend zone, but I’d take her any way I could get her. Bronson and I leave in the morning for eighteen weeks of hell . . . training in Virginia. He and Callie disappeared into their bedroom after dinner so Bianca and I are watching a movie. To say we are watching it may be stretching the truth . . . she is reciting every fucking line, and I’m sitting here soaking up the memory so I can call upon it when I miss her.

“You excited for this?” Her smile isn’t genuine, but she’s trying.

“Nervous, but excited.”

“Dakota, you have no reason to be nervous. You’ll kick ass. I’m proud of you.”

“Don’t.”

“What?”

“Don’t tell me that shit. Hard enough without you and then you show me what I’m missing.”

“I miss you, too.” She sighs. “Why’d I have to fall for one of the guys with integrity? It’d be so much easier if you were a douche.”

I chuckle at her candidness. “And I had to fall for the girl who hides behind a tough exterior but has the purest heart I’ve ever seen. You act like you’re full of fire, but you aren’t, Bianca. Don’t let this destroy what you worked so hard to get.”

“I’m trying. None of them are you.”

“Yeah.” I hate hearing she’s trying, but I agree with her. There hasn’t been another Bianca for me either.

“Dakota Hyatt, you go to training and kick ass. You make your mark on the world. Don’t do anything less because that means that all this pain, all this bullshit was for nothing. So you do what you have to do and take names doing it.” Her eyes are bright with unshed tears, and the pure adoration on her face is my undoing. It’s wrong, I’ll regret it tomorrow, but tonight I need it.

I reach over and pull her towards me. Her lips crash into mine, and I can’t get enough of the taste I’ve missed for months. It’s the same, yet more decadent because I’ve been starved for it. The sweep of her tongue against mine sends heat throughout my body, and I lose control. Standing from the couch with her in my arms I guide her legs to encircle my hips and set off for her room. Her whimpers against my mouth, the way she is grinding herself with every step against my dick, the shivers racking her body are all too much and not enough at the same time. I turn my body as we reach her bed and fall back, never losing the connection our mouths have. Her tiny hands run under my shirt, and I flip her over. I pull at her shirt, discard mine, and somehow disrobe us.

“You still on the pill?”

“Yes, you’re still clean?” I hate she asks me that.

“Never been bare with anyone but you.” I thrust two fingers inside her wet heat as my mouth descends and captures her nipple with my lips. Using my tongue and teeth to work her up, my fingers thrust harder and faster. Her hips meet me and her wrist encircles mine, and she begins to ride my fingers. “Fuck.” I’m close to exploding. I waste no time replacing my fingers with my mouth, needing her taste on my tongue like I need my next breath of air. I lick, eat, and devour her. She’s riding my face, and I feel her legs stiffen. I add my fingers and feel her clamp down and draw them further into her as she goes over. I watch her face as she comes against my mouth and fingers. I swear it should be listed as one of the Seven Wonders of the World.

As her aftershocks are still running through her, I climb up her body and sink into her with one push. Her gasp of pleasure and eyes full of love spur me to move. Hard. Fast. I lean back and watch as my dick sinks into her with every thrust. I’m lost in the sight. She was made for me. Her hand runs down the middle of her stomach and her fingers reach her clit. She begins rubbing, circling, and pulling at herself as I pound into her. It’s not sweet or gentle. It’s punishing and pleasurable.

I feel her tighten and give it to her harder. She screams in desire, and I follow her. Our bodies are covered in sweat, our breaths are coming in short pants and it’s the most alive I’ve felt in months. This is what I’m giving up; this is what I’ve been missing. I can’t have it, and I just fucked up. I will lose myself in regret tomorrow, but tonight I will give us both this.

I pull out amidst her whimpers of losing me and pull her to me. “What the fuck was that, Dakota?”

“Not what I wish it was, Bianca.”

“I figured.” She seems resigned to it. “I still love you and as much as this sucks, I understand.”

“Thanks.” I don’t know what to say to her to make it better. I haven’t found the words to give myself so how do I find them for her.

“And this was one hell of a goodbye.” Shit. Goodbye.

“I’ll still see you. You act like this is forever.”

“You won’t see me like this again. I can’t. It hurts and it heals. You go be you, and I’ll find me. I need you to go.”

I was going to stay, hold her, and fuck her all night. “Bianca . . .”

“No, Dakota. I know what will happen, and I can’t do that. I love you. You break me. Then you repair me. It’s a cycle, and I know you don’t mean to do it, but you do. Tonight, was perfect. I’ve craved it. But it destroys me and takes another piece of me. You need to go, leave tomorrow and I’ll see you when you get home. Maybe with time and space, we’ll be in a better place.” I can’t argue with her when the tears are staining her face, her voice so far away, and the pain evident in her eyes.

I pull her close to me, take her mouth in another kiss, and drop my head to her shoulder and hold her. Her sobs begin racking her body, and I can’t do this to her. My lips land on her shoulder one last time, and I pause for a minute. “Love you, Bianca.”

Getting dressed and walking from the apartment, from her, takes all my strength, all my willpower. I’m on the verge of going to her; telling her I’ll change my career path, do what I have to do to keep her. I know that won’t work. She is so afraid of sacrificing dreams and herself in the name of love, she’d refuse, and I can’t disagree with her. I’m afraid I’d have my own regrets down the line, but my biggest regret is leaving Bianca tonight. I just needed one more night.

But let there be spaces in your togetherness and let the winds of the heavens dance between you. Love one another but make not a bond of love: let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.

~
Khalil Gibran

Chapter 13

Bianca

I’ve got Callie for eighteen weeks while they’re in training. I need this time to get her words of wisdom, opinion, and her help to pull me from this funk I’ve allowed myself to wallow in.

“Tell me again why you slept with him knowing it was going to hurt worse the second time around?”

“I don’t know.”

“Binks,” her voice soft, filled with pity. “It opened you back up to him. I don’t understand y’all at all, but I understand love. You two have that, you also have circumstances that aren’t going to change. You need to proceed with caution because as much as it kills me to say this, I don’t see this working. He has a goal, he’s laser focused, and can’t be veered off that course.”

“I don’t want him to change his plans. That’s the one thing I’d never ask of him.”

“Why?”

“Love is sacrifice. That’s why I treated it like the bubonic plague. Loves makes you weak and do things you wouldn’t normally do. It alters you. I like control, and you sure as shit don’t get that with love.”

“You’re jaded. Love isn’t a sacrifice. It’s a gift to be treasured. It holds you up and makes you strong. Not weak. Love has no control, I agree, but it’s the most amazing ride you can experience. Highs, lows . . . it’s all there, but at the end is the best. That feeling when you ride a rollercoaster, survived it, realized you enjoyed every second . . . including the ones that had your stomach in your throat. At the end of that ride when you coast back into where the ride started, and it’s stable again. That’s love to me; one hell of a rollercoaster but starting back at the same place it began. With you and the one you love. Hold steady to that and you can’t lose at love.”

“You need to change your major to psychology because I think I actually understood that shit.” She laughs at me.

“With love you just have to have a strong foundation. The correct analogy. If the two people aren’t right, it won’t work. Sometimes, you have the right people but it doesn’t work because the track is so off course.”

I read her loud and clear. She believes the latter is Dakota and me. Right people. Wrong time. “So do I wait?”

“That’s up to you. I don’t think you should sit and mope. I’m not sure you’ll ever
really
be able to move on from him. I know if something happens with Bronson and me, I’d try to live life but I know I’d never fully be over him. I’d try, but something would be missing from my life. Our love…”

“Because he’s your first love?”

“No. He’s my
only
love. He reaches a place in me I didn’t know existed. Just when I think my heart is full, space becomes available, and he fills it.”

“I hate this,” I whine like a brat.

“I hate it for you. Love you, Binks.”

“Love you, Callie.” She’s right. Dakota reached a place in me I’d never allowed to be discovered. He broke down the fear, the doubts, and made me a believer. I don’t know how I’ll ever find that again.

I don’t know why I agreed to come today. My stomach is in knots, yet I wouldn’t be anywhere else. As much as I don’t want to see Dakota, I want to see his success. I’m chicken and know all my feelings I’ve been hiding will prevail. His parents won’t be there, so I want him to have some support. They’ve been nonexistent since Dana was killed, and short of joining the circus, he can’t get their attention.

Flying isn’t my favorite thing to do. Add that to the apprehension Callie has with airplanes and my mom will have her hands full. My dad and Luis got called to Atlanta for business and will meet us there. “Hurry up, you two. We’re late!” my mom is shouting from the front door.

I look over at Callie’s colorless face and wonder if I have time to shove some alcohol down her. “C’mon, your man is graduating and you are moving to wherever they station him and starting your life.” Her face gains some color, and her smile is instant. I reach down and grab my carry-on bag and purse, take her hand, and pull her towards the front door.

I drop everything when I see my mom and rush to her side. She’s kneeling on the floor, phone clutched against her chest, sobs wracking her body. Her eyes are staring up and she’s reciting a prayer I don’t understand. Callie is frozen in place, staring at us. A guard is standing over my mom, his head down, and I’m fucking terrified.

I shake her. “Mom.” Her face flies to mine, and she brings her hands to my cheeks, her forehead drops to mine.

“Figlia, it’s your Papa.” No. Why are we wasting time? We need to get there. The guard assists her to her feet; his tortured expression evokes a fear in me I’ve never faced. She takes a deep breath and moves to the couch, my hand in hers, and she grabs Callie as we pass her.

She pulls us down, composing herself. “There was an ambush. The men couldn’t stop it. Your Papa,” she looks to me, “he’s gone, baby. Luis is in bad shape.” Her voice that was strong in that deliverance breaks, and she drops her head back and weeps from the information she just delivered. Voicing it made it real to her, something she can’t take back.