LIFE BEFORE DAMAGED VOL. 10 (THE FERRO FAMILY) (4 page)

“
R
egina
, come on! You can fly next!” David’s black hair is a mess, windblown, full of sand, and dripping with salt water.

I think he’s more of a daredevil than I am. We’ve spent the morning flyboarding. Think extreme water sports with a hover board. The only thing is, instead of magically floating above the water, there’s a water engine strapped to the back of the board. It’s like taping a skateboard to a fire hose. He’s getting pretty good at it, too.

I tug my hair back into a tight ponytail, trying to tame the frizzies tickling my cheeks. “You go ahead! I’ll catch the next pass.”

He laughs. “This is awesome!” David runs down the beach, his fit body glowing in the sunlight. He lets out a whoop as he jumps up in the air, unable to contain his excitement. I’m glad we found so many things in common. It didn’t start out that way.

I settle into a lounge chair, pick up my drink with one hand and open a newspaper with another. I turn to the engagement section and study the couple in the top right photo.

That woman could have been me.

When I came to after the mugging, I had no idea where I was, and all traces of the Ferro family were gone—save a letter from Constance and my new bodyguard, David Chit. He was so uptight then, always wearing a black suit as if he were a CIA agent. I suppose a bodyguard shouldn't take his post lightly. Years have passed since that night. No one has any clue where I am, and they never will.

Constance’s letter made it very clear my altercation with Phil would have Pete and me looking over our shoulders indefinitely. The attack in Rockefeller Center wasn’t random, it wasn’t a mugging, and I wasn’t meant to walk away. Neither was Pete.

My actions at Ricky’s club accidentally wedged both of us in a war between the Gambino and Ferro families. I found out later Constance knew something would happen, and she was ready when it did.

I sip my drink and think back years, recalling the meeting that explained everything...

I
stand on shaky legs
, recovered enough to stand for short periods of time. In six weeks on the island, I've regained much of my strength—enough to wait stubbornly on the beach and watch Constance Ferro's private jet take its final approach before landing. The trade winds make the island feel cool, despite my being literally stranded in a desert. My hair blows in a million different directions, blinding me.

When I see Constance walk off the plane, I want to strangle her.

“How could you? You dumped me in the middle of nowhere and left!” I shout over the roar of the engines.

Constance’s eyes are hidden behind massive movie star sunglasses. She walks toward me spine straight, chin up, and unashamed. She hooks my arm and pulls me toward the limo waiting on the tarmac. “It’s nice to see you alive and with some color in your cheeks. Where’s the bodyguard I hired for you?”

“You mean the totem pole masquerading as a stuffed suit?” I jab my thumb in Mr. Chit’s direction, where he stands a discreet distance away from us. “He’s close, following me like a shadow as usual.”

She nods and Mr. Chit slides into the limo as well, but he sits in the front with the driver. I inch across the seat and close the door on my own, pissing off the valet. “I want to go home, Connie. Right now!” I’m so furious I’m shaking. “You can’t keep me here. Pete will find out!”

Constance lets out a sigh and removes her sunglasses. She tucks them into her designer bag and places it next to her on the leather seat. “Peter isn't looking for you. He held you in his arms until you died. Dead is how you’ll remain as far as he’s concerned. I’m the one who saved you, and I suggest you listen to me now because I won’t do it again. Only God can save you if you defy me and cause the death of one of my sons in the process.”

The way she says it makes me shut my mouth even though I want to bite her head off. Since I’ve been here, wherever I am—no one will tell me—I’ve been denied access to a phone, computer, television, or anything that might allow me to contact Pete.

Constance crosses her ankles and stares at me. “Until now, I’ve kept you in a private hospital and prevented you from communicating with Peter. What you do from here on is up to you, but I advise you to proceed with caution. The feud you created between the Gambino family and mine was satisfied by your demise. If you alert Peter to the fact that you recovered and then go back to him, you’ll be placing him back in danger. I cannot protect that boy when it comes to you. He’d die for you, and there’s nothing I can do to save him. Except this.”

The limo has been winding through narrow palm-lined streets, past brightly painted houses. The yards are mostly clay with very little grass. The terrain is fairly flat, and an endless expanse of turquoise water stretches beyond the trees. The car pulls into a long driveway and stops in front of a structure resembling an old plantation. Its huge white columns stretch three stories high.

Decorative rocks and pointy looking plants adorn the xeriscaped clay grounds surrounding the main house.

The driver opens the door, and I slide out, Constance following closely behind. She rushes up the brick steps and into the house. A team of staff members stands at attention in the grand foyer ready to take orders.

“Viola, tea please.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The older woman has dark skin that sags under her eyes. She seems to respect Constance, which shocks me. They share an unspoken understanding, and then the woman is gone.

Constance gives the others their orders then pointedly announces we’ll be waiting in the library.

I follow her through the house, getting the distinct impression Connie hasn’t been here for a very long time. She walks into the library and heads over to a sofa, where she sits down quickly and kicks off her pumps.

I blink as if Hell froze over. Decorum is her thing. She can’t act casual. She kidnapped me! I don’t sit, even though I feel weak. “As nice as this is, and I do appreciate you saving me, I just don’t see why—”

“For once in your life, shut up and listen.” Constance pinches the bridge of her nose for a long moment, breathing slowly. Finally, she drops her hand to her lap and looks at me with tired eyes. “Pete can recover from a broken heart, but if he ends up with a bullet in his back, there’s little I can do.”

“It should be our decision.”

“No, it shouldn’t. But as fate would have it, it is your decision. I can’t prevent you from ever speaking to him again, although I want to. I can’t order you to stay here forever, although I think you should.”

“Where am I?”

“We’re off the coast of Aruba on De Palm Island. This estate was my mother’s private residence when I was a child. It’s been years since a Ferro stepped through those doors, which is why I brought you here. You’ll be safe and well cared for. You can run your charities, your business, anything you want from here. It’s a haven where no one will look for you unless you give them a reason.”

At that moment, Viola enters the room with a cart. A china teapot covered with tiny pink roses and matching cups, accompanied by a formal three-tiered tray of cakes and sandwiches. Viola’s gaze shifts to me and narrows. She doesn’t like me.

Constance touches the old woman's hand. “It’s her decision, Viola. We can only hope she’ll protect him.”

It feels like I’m being played, and I don’t like it. “Cut the crap, Connie. Don’t pretend you two are besties from a million years ago just to manipulate me. I don’t need—”

Viola is instantly pissed, her dark eyes transforming into lasers. “There is nothing to pretend when it comes to this strong lady. She is her mother’s daughter, and you have no idea what happened to her here! That she came back here for you is a mercy you don’t know how to appreciate, little one. If you are too ignorant to see this, you deserve the fate coming to you.”

I freeze in place as I’m scolded and then look at Constance. She’s gazing across the room like she’s lost in another time. She finally waves Viola off. “Thank you, dear. I’ll see you before I leave.”

The old woman nods and leaves without another word.

Constance picks up a cup, pours in milk and tea, and then hands it to me. Surprised, I take it and sit down next to her. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I think you do, Gina.” She sips slowly, as if in pain, and then glances at me. “Every action has repercussions. I did the best I could to make you both safe. Whether or not you stay that way is up to you.”

“How can I believe you?”

“Go online right now and see for yourself. You can watch Peter without him knowing you’re still alive. You can see if he’s still in danger. Six weeks have passed, Gina. Nothing else has happened—he's safe. If the Gambinos wanted him dead, he would be, but with you gone, the link to Peter is broken.”

I swallow hard, not wanting to hear this. “How long will I have to stay here?”

“As long as it takes to be forgotten—by your family, by Peter, by everyone who knew you. You can never go back to New York. But here, Gina, you can start over. Mr. Chit will watch over you until we’re certain the threat is gone forever. I’m offering you my childhood home, and all the stories held within these walls. This place exposes me, Gina. The only reason I’m here now is to make it clear how much is at stake. Whether you believe me or not—I’d do anything to protect my sons.”

She’s telling the truth. I can feel it. I close my eyes and blink back tears. “They all think I’m dead?”

“Yes, every last one. They attended your funeral and said their farewells. You can reappear, but you need to realize every person who cares for you will be in danger if you do. It’s not just Peter.”

I can’t think. It feels like there's no air the room, like a giant foot is pressing me into the floor. I can’t tell him I’m okay. I’ll never see any of the people I love ever again.

After a few moments, I ask, “Why are you letting me decide this?”

“Because if I make the decision for you, you’ll never move on, you’ll never start over, and you’ll always want to contact Peter. But if you decide yourself, you’ll understand what’s at stake and why you need to remain hidden.”

Tea seems to last for hours. We both sit there exhausted beyond comprehension. I've been offered a new start in a home that conjures ghosts scary enough to terrify this unbreakable woman. She didn’t have to offer me anything. She could have let me die.

By the time night falls, I’m ready to say it out loud. “I won’t go home. I’ll make sure they never know.” I swallow hard and swat at the tears escaping my eyes. “What do you want me to sign?”

There’s got to be a contract, something Constance will lord over me if I suddenly change my mind and rush off to Pete, something that will land my ass in jail or worse.

She places her empty teacup down and looks at me. “There are no papers for this agreement, only your word that you’ll keep your promise.”

“What? Why?” I don’t hide my shock.

“Like I said before, this is your decision, not mine. No one is forcing you to do this, so if you come to the same conclusion on your own—that the ones you love will be safer if they think you’re gone—you’ll keep your bargain no matter what. A signature can’t offer that type of loyalty, but a promise can.”

A
fter her few initial visits
, I’ve not heard from Constance in a long time. According to the newspapers, everyone thinks she died in the Ferro Mansion bombing, but I know better. Nothing is obvious when it comes to Constance Ferro.

I’ve watched Pete from afar for years, lurking around the Internet, wishing I could help him. I know the best way to keep him safe is to stay away, so I did. What started as a daily ritual of searching the Internet for mention of his name slowly faded to occasionally checking in on him.

For months on end, no one could find him. That almost pulled me out of hiding, but then he reappeared in New Jersey of all places. He’s with someone again, which eases my conscience.

My life with Pete seems like a lifetime ago. I was someone else, trapped in a life I couldn't live. Even though I loved him, we didn’t belong together. We had too much baggage, too many fissures, and too much raw pain.

Looking at the newspaper now, I feel like I’m reading about an old friend and I have no regrets. We were there for each other at a time when we were both lost. From the looks of this picture, Pete is finally happy.

I stare at the engagement announcement and smile. Deep inside, Pete was always the handsome English professor, the poet afraid to live in the open. Meanwhile, I’ve discovered there’s no one better to share my thrilling adventures with than David.

When his contract with the Ferro family ended, David bought a house on the main island and started a water sports business. His newest acquisition is flyboarding. It’s amazing to see him flying through the air, grinning like a little boy when I know he could snap someone in half.

That man stood over me every night for years on end. He was always there, wiping every tear, vanquishing every fear. In its own time, something more developed between us.

After living in Constance's childhood home for so long, the staff became the family I needed most. It was only natural they would be our honored guests as I walked down the beach at sunset to meet David at the shoreline, only natural they'd be part of the life we now share as man and wife. I cherish the memories of Viola crying as she laced my silk gown and her accompanying me down the seashell lined aisle to give me away. When I first moved in, I feared she’d never grow to like me, and now she’s prodding for grandchildren.

There’s no trace of Gina Granz anymore. I’m only Regina Chit, madly in love with my husband—a man who’s flying through the air above the water, flipping that board around like he was born with it. I love my new life, and would never have found David if it weren’t for Pete Ferro.

I set the newspaper on the little table under the umbrella and rise off the beach chaise. The wind catches the pages, and I listen to them fluttering as I walk away. The past is finally behind me, and my future is down the beach flying in the air and laughing.