Page 14

14

ARCHER

A fter our walk in the woods, or maybe I should say our romp in the woods, Carlotta and I return to the cabin. She tells me she’s going to go take a shower and all sorts of dirty thoughts and images fill my head. I can’t stop thinking about the larger rustic shower, its water raining down on her naked body. I know our time is running out and I want to make the most of it.

Being the insatiable beast that I am, I shed my clothes, make sure to grab a condom this time, and stroll into the bathroom. She glances over, eyes widening then smiles in welcome.

“Mind if I join you?” I ask huskily and make my way over.

“I was hoping you would,” she says, her eyes skating down my body. I’m already half hard and there’s definitely no hiding it.

I pull Carlotta into my arms and for the next forty minutes, I find myself lost in her, lost in a heaven I’ve never known before. It’s why I can’t seem to get enough of her. There’s something so incredible that happens when we’re together, the moment our bodies join, and it’s beyond indescribable. Unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. All I know is she fills the empty spaces and I don’t feel so damaged or so alone anymore.

Once the water runs cool, I turn it off, grab a towel and wrap her up. Then I carry her to the loft’s bedroom and lay her out on the bed. Stretching out beside her, we kiss and touch and explore each other’s bodies thoroughly. As though we have all the time in the world.

After spending most of the day in bed, I’m ravenously hungry. We decide to go down to the kitchen and whip up some easy comfort food. Our options are limited, but I find a big frozen pizza and nothing ever tasted so good. We devour it and talk while we eat. I’ve never opened up this much to a woman before, but I trust Carlotta. I even tell her about my uncle who I lived with after my parents died.

“Uncle Bill was former Army and I’m grateful he took me in when I had nowhere else to go, but he wasn’t an affectionate man. He fed me, put a roof over my head and made sure I went to school, and that’s about it.”

“All children need to know they’re loved,” Carlotta says, “with words and gestures. My family is so affectionate. Always hugging and teasing. I can’t imagine it being anything different.”

“My uncle didn’t have any siblings and my aunt couldn’t have children, so I don’t think he knew what to do with me, to be honest. I came to him after Aunt Sue had already died and half the time I think he wished he could’ve handed me over to an orphanage or something.”

“That’s awful.”

“He wasn’t a bad person. He just…ignored me.”

And sometimes that’s the worst thing someone can do to a kid. Hell, to anyone. Making someone feel invisible and like they don’t matter is a terrible feeling.

“I’m so sorry, Damon.” She lays a hand over mine.

“Not much I could do about it,” I say with a shrug. “It’s probably why I’m such a loner. I don’t need much when it comes to people and relationships.”

She lightly squeezes my hand. “You need more than you think and you’re worthy of love and affection.”

My chest tightens—or maybe it’s my normally cold, empty heart—and her words hit me hard, on a visceral level. Is she right? Am I worthy? For so long I’ve kept myself closed off to others, alway telling myself I don’t need anyone, that life is simpler when I’m alone. Thoughts of Caitlin hit me like a sucker punch and I drop my slice of pizza, my appetite shot to hell.

I can still picture her body laying on the floor in the bedroom, her blood soaking through the beige carpet. Crimson stains that would never come out and a horrific image that would be forever burned in my head.

“What’s wrong?” she asks softly, picking up on my heavy feelings.

The urge to tell her makes me talk. I’ve never confided in anyone about Caitlin’s death, and I haven’t talked about it since the police arrived that long ago day five years earlier.

“I had a girlfriend once,” I tell Carlotta in a low voice, and she leans forward, listening closely. “Her name was Caitlin.”

I let out a sigh, always wishing the situation could’ve ended differently. That I would’ve had the balls to break up with her when I knew things weren’t working out. But I guess I always knew deep down that we didn’t have a future together. Our relationship was a here and now type of thing, nothing I ever viewed as permanent and leading to marriage and kids. But instead of facing her like a man and ending things, I always just ran away on the next op.

“Yes, you mentioned her. What happened?” she asks softly.

Our fingers thread together and I look down, needing her touch more than she realizes. “Well, I learned I was a terrible boyfriend.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I always put my job first which I had to do while a spec ops guy. We had to pick up leave at a moment’s notice. That’s just the way it was, what I signed up for. But, with hindsight, I realize that I used my job as an excuse, a crutch.”

She waits patiently while I gather my thoughts, trying to figure out the best way to share my story. The best way to let her know what an asshole I was.

“We moved in together and after a few months, I could feel myself drifting away. Maybe I lost interest or maybe it was because I was so focused on work. But I knew I should break up with her. I didn’t, though, because I didn’t want to deal with her getting upset and the drama of her moving out and probably hating me. So instead of facing our failed relationship, I ran off on missions and took my anger and frustration out on the enemy.”

God, I wish I had a beer. Having to face my past failures sober is a little daunting. And sharing them with Carlotta? Not the easiest thing I’ve ever done. In fact, it’s fucking brutal and makes me feel like the lowest kind of heel.

“So, I was gone on an op and the entire time, I kept thinking about how I was going to break it off with her when I got back. I was determined to do it this time. Sometimes things don’t work out, that’s life, right? I just didn’t want to pretend anymore. Maybe we both knew it was over. I don’t know. Normally, on my way home, I’d usually call to give her a heads-up, but I didn’t bother this time. My phone rang when I was almost home and I saw her name, but…I didn’t answer. I figured I’d see her in a couple of minutes, right? When I pulled in the driveway, I parked and sat there for a minute, getting ready to face her to tell her it was over.”

My gut churns at the memory.

“How’d she take it?”

“She never got to hear my spiel. Halfway up the driveway, I noticed the front door was ajar. I dropped my duffel bag, grabbed my Glock and went inside. The place was a mess, like somebody had trashed it. Things were missing, broken, and I knew we’d been robbed. I remember calling her name, moving through the house, but she didn’t answer.”

I pause and pull in a deep steadying breath. Carlotta is still holding my hand and it gives me the strength to continue.

“I could feel something was wrong and when I stepped into the bedroom, I saw her. Laying on the floor in a pool of blood, a couple of gunshot wounds to the chest. Her cell phone was clutched in her hand. She’d tried calling me and I ignored it.”

“Oh, God.”

“I was too late. She was already gone, the robbers were already gone and there was nothing I could do except call the police. Eventually, they caught the assholes responsible and they went to prison for her murder. I left the military not long after because my focus was all over the place. I blamed myself for what happened. I wasn’t there and I know I could’ve prevented it. I would’ve stopped those assholes and Caitlin would still be alive.”

“It’s not your fault,” Carlotta says softly. “And what if you couldn’t have stopped them? You might’ve been hurt or worse.”

“I would’ve fucking stopped them with a bullet to the head. I promise you that,” I state darkly, and I can’t miss the shiver that runs through her body.

“Maybe, but you have no idea what might’ve happened. It was a horrible thing that occurred, but you can’t blame yourself.”

“I do, though. Every single day for the past five years. And I hate myself for not being there to protect her and even more for wanting to break up with her.”

“Oh, Damon, I’m so sorry you had to go through that. But, please believe me when I say it wasn’t your fault. It was a tragedy, pure and simple, and it had nothing to do with you wanting to end things.”

“I never loved her,” I admit in a low, tortured voice. “She would say the words so freely and I couldn’t even choke them out. She told me I’d say them when I was ready, but I wasn’t able to give her what she wanted or deserved. I never said them. I don’t think I’m capable of such a deep emotion. Not with anybody.”

Our eyes meet and she shakes her head.

“You loved your parents, right?” she asks.

“I guess. It was so long ago and I barely remember them. I’ve just accepted my brokenness, Carlotta. Nothing can fix me.”

Carlotta lets go of my hand and stands up, hands going on her hips. So feisty, so determined to prove me wrong. “Love can fix you, Damon Archer. It can seal the cracks and mend your soul. Don’t doubt its power. I’ve seen its healing strength firsthand with all of my brothers.” Her voice lowers, becoming more gentle. “Maybe it’s not always romantic love. It could be a friend’s love or a family’s love or a child’s love. Promise me you won’t give up on yourself.”

I reach my hands out and she instantly takes them. “How did you get so wise?” I ask, tugging her onto my lap.

“I am wise,” she declares saucily, cupping my face, looking right into my eyes. “And my first pearl of wisdom to you is to kiss the woman in your arms immediately.”

“That seems like pretty sound advice,” I tease.

“Oh, it is,” she assures me with a mischievous grin.

Unable to resist, I capture her mouth in a kiss that soothes my soul and gives my heart hope. Maybe she’s right. Perhaps one day I will be able to forgive myself and let go of the past. Right now, though, I’m determined to just enjoy the present. I don’t want to think about the future, either. All I want to do is absorb Carlotta’s light and positive energy.

At some point, I know this perfect bubble we’ve created is going to pop. I just don’t expect it to be quite so soon. The kiss leads to a steamy encounter on the kitchen island and we’re still riding high on our releases when my phone rings. I yank up my sweats and grab it up off the kitchen table.

“Archer,” I answer, my gaze sliding down Carlotta’s slim legs. She’s just wearing my T-shirt and taking her on the countertop was the best dessert I could’ve asked for.

“It’s Miceli.”

“Hey, Miceli, let me put you on speaker.” I turn the speaker on and we both sit down at the table. “What’s up? Any word on Gallo?”

“That’s why I’m calling. The bastard has done a disappearing act. No one can locate him and that makes us nervous.”

I exchange a look with Carlotta. “So you want us to hang out up here a little longer?” I have zero problems with that and reach for her hand. We smile at each other and I’m already starting to think about how many wicked things we can do to each other for the next week. Hell, maybe even longer. I’m going to take her on every surface in this cabin.

“No,” he says, interrupting my dirty thoughts. “We want to keep Carlotta safe, so we decided the best option is to send her to Sicily to stay with our parents until Gallo can be handled.”

“What?” Carlotta practically screeches.

“Hi, Lottie,” Miceli says dryly.

“Don’t you ‘hi’ me,” she says, getting angry fast. “We’re perfectly safe up here and I don’t want to run all the way to Sicily and hide.”

“Sorry, sis. The jet is waiting and Archer is going to take you back to the city to pack a bag then go straight to the airport. No arguments. Your safety is our top priority, especially after Gallo managed to kidnap you earlier. Or, have you conveniently forgotten that?”

“Of course I haven’t forgotten,” she snaps. Then she immediately gentles her voice. “But, Miceli, I feel safe here.”

“I’m glad, but you’re going to Sicily.”

She’s steaming mad, of course, but I can’t go against Miceli. Carlotta is his sister and getting her out of the country is probably the best move. But this is the moment I’ve been dreading. Saying goodbye to Carlotta is going to suck in the worst way possible. Over the past few days, I’ve grown to like her so much. The more I get to know about her, the more time I want to spend with her. But that’s all coming to an end.

I glance down at my watch. “We’ll leave immediately,” I tell Miceli, and Carlotta slams a fist against the table, but I ignore her.

“Thanks, Archer. And, Carlotta?”

“What?” she grates out between clenched teeth.

“Behave yourself and we’ll see you in December for the holidays.”

Before she can make an angry retort, we both disconnect the call.

“Carlotta, he’s right. Whether you like it or not, going to Sicily is the safest course of action.”

“So you’re just fine with this?”

No, but what can I say?

“I have to be,” I tell her. “Your brothers put your care in my hands and I won’t jeopardize that for a few more fucks.”

The moment the words leave my mouth, I regret them. Instantly.

Shit.

Her dark eyes narrow, brows drawing down and jaw clenching. “Oh, right. We’re just fucking here so no big deal, right? Plus, hey, what a great way to get rid of me—do my brother’s bidding.”

“That’s not what I meant,” I say, trying to back track. “I don’t want to get rid of you. I’m enjoying our time together here and…” My voice trails off at the furious look on her face.

I keep digging myself deeper and I probably should shut up.

“I’m sure you are,” she says scathingly then stands up. “Good to know you had fun fucking me, but let’s go. My brothers have spoken.”

As she stalks away, I know better than to comment. At least if I don’t want her to rip me a new one. My little hurricane just landed and I need to batten down the hatches. It’s going to be a stormy ride back to NYC, that’s for sure.