The Bounty Hunters: The Marino Bros.: Box Set (73 page)

“Mm, Gio,” Lisa murmured groggily noticing him standing at his bedroom door. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” She began to rise.

“It’s okay.” His voice came out in a soft whisper, his eyelashes lowered, as he gazed at her beneath the thick fringe. “Dinner will be ready soon.”

He continued to lean up against the door frame, filling it. He was at least twenty pounds heavier than he’d been the last time Lisa had seen him, and it was pure muscle too. He’d taken off the shirt he’d worn at the courthouse, and wore a tight t-shirt, black, that fitted him to perfection. It outlined all the changes his body had undergone in the years they had been apart. Lisa felt guilty for having these thoughts, but he never looked better, and she’d never stopped dreaming of him in all these years.

She finished pulling herself to a sitting position, and pulled her blouse closed. The top two buttons had come undone, and although he’d seen her before, times had changed. She didn’t want him to feel obligated in any way to her. What he was doing was already enough. She was out now, and could begin building her defense. That was something.

Gio’s eyes couldn’t help but to gaze upon Lisa as she quickly did up the two top buttons on her blouse. And damn it if his body didn’t react to that simple gesture as well. He felt it like a gut punch, and averted his gaze. “Well, yeah. Everything’s ready, if you’re hungry,” he muttered, feeling like a teenager again caught ogling the girl next door.

Lisa heard the change in Gio’s voice and she recognized it for what it was. Desire. And she, too, felt the familiar ache begin. This was Gio, the only man she ever loved, so she wasn’t surprised. To get past the awkward moment that engulfed them, she cleared her throat before speaking. “Um, let me just freshen up, I’ll be down in a minute.”

Gio nodded once, then fled back down the flight of stairs like the devil himself was chasing him.

*     *     *

Back in the
kitchen, Gio began to set the table for two. He elected to have them sit at the small kitchen table and not in the much larger dining room that looked over the living room. He didn’t want the kind of private mood that might create. The kitchen would suffice.

Setting two plates across from each other, the silverware, the glasses, he then turned to the refrigerator and pulled out the Parmesan cheese he had purchased and the butter. The pasta was already drained, and sat in the bowl. He just needed to add more sauce to the top, and that still simmered on the stove to stay warm. It would be a simple meal until he had time to shop at a larger grocers.

He was busy cutting the loaf of Italian bread he had purchased at the local market, when Lisa came into the kitchen.

She slid onto the bench seat, and was sipping her glass of water when he turned towards her with the bread basket. “Smells great,” she murmured setting down her glass and cupping her hands in her lap nervously.

Gio noticed. “Sorry, no napkins. I forgot. But . . . I have paper towels. Andreas has a cleaning service come every six months, so we got plenty of those.”

Lisa nodded as he reached behind him to grab the roll sitting on the counter. “That’ll be fine.” She accepted the rectangle and placed it on her lap as Gio sat across from her. Without thinking, she picked up the ladle, and nodded towards him. He held out his plate to her, and once again he was brought back to their time together. All those simple meals, those simple gestures. It was like a tidal wave rolling in, bringing back the past, and flashes of memory, as they once again slipped into old familiar patterns of behavior. A decade evaporated into the mist.

Lisa filled his plate, until he nodded he had enough, then served herself a much smaller portion. Even this simple meal was a luxury compared to prison food, if she could manage to eat it. Guilt still ate away at her. She needed to unburden herself, tell Gio the whole truth. But she knew during dinner was still not the right time.

Gio wasted no time and dug right in. He never had a problem with his appetite, and he hadn’t eaten anything since very early that morning. He watched under his eyelashes as Lisa picked up her fork and twirled her spaghetti around it then lifted up a dainty bite to her mouth. The girls had always eaten like a bird, despite her 5’9” frame.

The first few minutes they just ate in silence until Lisa broke it with a question. “So do you like the work you’re doing now, being a bounty hunter?”

Gio watched her carefully before he responded. He knew she was trying to make small talk. “Yeah, it pays the bills,” he responded curtly.

“Better than police work?” she asked as she laid her fork down.

“It’s easier, less stressful.” His answer was honest. “But it does have its exciting points. More time off, better days off though,” he added.

“I was surprised when I heard about it. You loved being a police officer so much. It was all you ever wanted.”

“Not all.” His retort came briskly and quickly. Too quick.

Lisa swallowed the small bite of bread she had taken without chewing.

Gio felt guilty immediately, and jumped back in to recover. “It’s good for us. We needed to be there for each other. Andreas was losing it. Not solving my parents’ murders, not catching the Rosedale Romeo, was eating him alive. He also didn’t want anything to happen to Nikko or Blaze.”

Lisa appreciated his change of topic. “Yes, I heard they had both joined the force though as well.”

Gio nodded and took another bite of his pasta. He grabbed another slice of the crusty bread and sopped up some of the sauce on his plate. He couldn’t help but wonder where she had heard all this, but knew the neighborhood talked. But that she bothered to inquire at all unsettled him. “Gotta love this neighborhood.”

Lisa laughed. “Yes. People talk. But I miss it. It’s simple. I miss this,” she answered wistfully. It hurt to say the words aloud, but they were true.

Gio set down his fork, and pushed his plate away. “It didn’t have to be like this,” he answered.

She heard the pain in his voice. “No, and . . . Yes. I don’t expect you to forgive me, Gio. I made my choices. But, I hope someday you’ll come to understand.”

His blue eyes bore into her emerald ones. He didn’t know if he could forgive her for giving up on them, on him, and not telling him the truth, but he did understand.

“I guess I do, Lisa. Your sisters, your mom, even your dad. But if you had told me, maybe we could have figured out another way.” Again, he searched her eyes for doubts. Regrets.

She had to turn away before answering just to keep her composure. “Truthfully, Gio. I wish I had . . . now,” she added. “But it’s water under the bridge, I can’t live in the past. I need to focus on the here and now. For Johnny, for my . . .” She stopped herself, wanting to tell him all of it.

Gio watched her. He could tell there was something on her mind. He recognized the hesitancy. He knew her tells. “What is it, Lisa? Even from jail, when you told me about all of this, there was something I knew you were holding back. What is it?” he demanded softly. With Lisa, he knew the way to get her to talk was to broach the subject head on.

The butterflies in her stomach swarmed, and the food she had managed to consume threatened to come up. She reached for her water glass. Took a sip.

Gio’s eyes narrowed. She was stalling. He’d wait her out. When she still didn’t speak and he saw those gorgeous eyes begin to fill with unshed tears, he knew that whatever was coming was worse than anything he had yet to hear from her lips. Lisa was not a crier.

“Gio,” she started, then brought the napkin to her eyes. She was choked up. She couldn’t get the words out.

“Lisa,” he reached for her hand, grasped it, trying to give her the courage to tell him whatever it was that was eating her alive. “Lisa, if you want me to help, be more than just a babysitter, you’ve got to tell me everything. For your son,” he urged, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

“Ours,” she choked out on a gasp.

Gio’s heart stopped. Then started and slammed into his chest like a bull into a matador. He dropped her hand and pushed back from them table sending his chair flying into the wall behind him.

“What did you say?” It came out of him as an accusation. His heart thundered. His head pounded.

His tone terrified her. But she had no choice. He deserved to know. “Our son, Gio. Johnny is ours.”

His hands swept across the table sending glasses, plates, food flying. “You fucking bitch!”

And before he did anything more violent, Gio stepped back and took several steps away from her. He’d never hit a woman in his life, but he wanted to hit something now. Her lying to him, about this, his son, had never crossed his mind. She had his child, and kept it from him. Why? He wanted to scream at her. Maybe she was lying, he thought as his hands swept to his hair, and he turned his back on her. His fist slammed into the wall indenting the plaster.
Would she lie about this? Could she?
A part of him, wished it were a lie. She had robbed him of her, but now this.
A son! His son! She’d robbed him of ten years of knowing he had a son.

“How could you?” he choked out in his fury. “How could you do that to me?”

Her eyes spilled their tears. “I don’t know.” She buried her face in her hands, and cried. Yes, she’d tried to tell him, before and after. So many times, she had picked up the phone, but when Albert found out she’d tried to see him once, he’d made her pay. The first time he threatened her. The second time he’d beaten her. Then he’d threatened the baby. Afterwards, she’d been too terrified.

When she looked up to explain this to him, well to try to, he was gone. He’d slipped from the kitchen silently. Just walked out. The door to the backyard was open, and he was gone.

Fighting Demons

G
io stood out
back in the alley, and paced. He wanted to smash something, pummel something. He had to get away from Lisa. This. This was priceless. It took the fucking cake. It was bad enough her keeping her family troubles from him, but this was his son.
His son!
She’d stolen all those years from him, from them, and now from her son. Denied him the right to know his real father. Denied him from knowing Johnny. This was unforgivable.

Gio plowed his fist into the sheet metal of one of the storage sheds in the backyard. The resounding clamor of metal being dented rent the early evening air. The pain did nothing to calm his mood. The dent he made just another imprint, impact of many made by him and his brothers in anger and in play. Each of those marks had a story, a scar left on the surface, to remember the deeper scars within. Now this one was the deepest. He wanted to scream at the cruelty of it. The fates toying with him again.

A drink.

He pounded the side of the shed again. The creak of metal tore at his soul.

He stormed out into the night, around the side of the house. He needed to get away. Fast. To breathe. To . . .

*     *     *

Lisa heard the
sound of metal smashing, and forced herself to go to the window and look outside. She knew what she would see before she even saw it. This was her doing after all. And there he was. Gio. Pacing in the alleyway like a caged animal. The naked pain clearly visible on his face despite the gloom. The muted alleyway lights told her she had hurt him and it killed her inside. Gio pounded the shed again. The force of the blow took her breath away. It was sheer rage. She clutched her hand over her mouth to prevent herself from crying out her own wretchedness. The guilt was eating her alive. But it was no less than she deserved.

As he ran down the alleyway into the night through the row of interconnected houses, she was terrified for Gio. Of what he might do. She wanted to give chase, but knew he wouldn’t be able to hear her now. He needed to deal with this pain, this ultimate betrayal, on his own first. He’d be back. And she would face the consequences of her actions then. Whatever they may be. This was something she needed to face, own, and whatever he said to her, whatever decision he came to, whatever actions he took, were no less than she deserved.

*     *     *