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Authors: Nancy S Thompson

Tags: #Suspense, #Organized Crime, #loss, #death, #betrayal, #revenge, #Crime, #Psychological, #action, #action suspense, #Thriller

The Mistaken (4 page)

BOOK: The Mistaken
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I tried to explain what drew me to San Francisco and
what kept me here, but what I didn’t share with Nick was that
Jillian was the first person to truly get me, now more than ever.
She understood my dilemma with my brother, having her own tenuous
affiliation with The City’s underworld through her father,
Jack.

Jack’s brother, Joey Demetrio, was a long-time
resident of North Beach, The City’s Italian hub. He boasted of
nebulous mob ties, though he operated only along its periphery.
Jill’s father kept his wife and daughters as far from his brother’s
influence as possible, but Jillian still had wild stories to share
of her Uncle Joey’s time with Jimmy Lanza and La Cosa Nostra.
Unlike her father, she felt comfortable enough with the image to
laugh about it. I, on the other hand, wanted nothing to do with the
Russians or the Italians, at least the ones who called themselves
Mafia. Yet I found myself connected, however casually, to both.

“I know you don’t get it, Nick, but…have you ever
loved or even wanted someone so much you didn’t want to live if
they weren’t there right next to you every minute of the day? Well,
that’s how I feel about Jill. I’d do anything to be with her. She
doesn’t just talk a good game. She actually makes me
feel
loved. And that’s a first for me.”

“But, God, Ty, she’s kind of high-strung. And moody.
And the way she teases you. She’s fucking relentless. Any one of
those would bug the shit out of me.”

“Yeah, well, apparently my ‘stuffy English
upbringing’ bugs the shit out of
her
.”

Nick rolled his eyes and laughed. “Gee, I wonder
why?”

“What is it with the two of you? Rules are made for
a reason, you know, to be followed, not bent. So I choose to obey
them. What’s wrong with that?”

“Well, let’s see,” Nick said, holding up one finger
and then another. “It’s anal and annoying as hell.”

“Yeah, well, Jill doesn’t care, not really. She
loves me for who I am inside, not some trophy to showcase before
her bloody friends.”

Nick laughed again. “Oh yeah, like that’s been a
real problem for you, huh?”

“Yes, it has, several times!”

“Oh, poor baby!” he replied as he hurled a pillow at
my head then groaned at the pain it caused him.

I caught it with a grunt and faked a hard pass back,
stuffing it instead between my head and the wall behind me. “Hey,
enough of that. Your doc said to keep still and get some rest. I’m
kind of tired myself. Been here five days straight waiting for your
lazy ass to wake up.”

Nick fanned his hand in front of his nose. “Yeah,
smells like it, too,” he said then laughed.

“Just shut the hell up and go to sleep, will you?” I
replied as I nestled my head back into the soft pillow.

I closed my eyes and let my mind drift, quite easy
on so little sleep. It returned straight back to those early days
with Jillian. I recalled one night just before Nick’s accident,
when we were sitting together on our living room sofa as I read the
paper and she watched TV. I raised one brow and smiled at her,
knowing full well the kind of response it would provoke, as it
always did. She did a comical double take, her hooded eyes settling
on mine and her finger scolding me as it twitched near the end of
my nose.

“Don’t smile like that, buster, not unless you mean
business,” she warned playfully.

I twisted a make-believe mustache between my fingers
and snickered dramatically like a vaudeville villain of old. “Ah,
but I have only a few weapons in my arsenal, so I use them when I
must. I know how much you like it, that look, the way my eyes
wrinkle. And my accent…hmm… You love that, too, don’t you?”

I leaned over and pushed her down to lie back
against the soft cushions as I hovered above. She laughed then
looked at me with a provocative smile as she coiled her arms around
my neck.

“Well, of course,” she admitted. “All American girls
love a man with an accent, especially that lovely up-speak way you
have about you.” She raised her head then and captured me in a
seductive kiss.

I can’t even count the number of times she had said
those exact words to me. Apparently, it was what she loved most
about me, that and my crow’s feet, and she never missed an
opportunity to tell—or show me, as the case were—just how much.

Jill’s blood heated quickly as I moved my lips from
her mouth and trailed them slowly along her jaw line and down her
neck. She writhed beneath me, her hips undulating in silent need. I
pulled back and opened her blouse then ran my hand over the curve
of her breast before my mouth followed suit. It left a glistening
trail to her nipple which stood erect beneath the lazy
ministrations of my tongue.

She moaned and ran her fingers through my hair,
pulling at it in her excitement. When she could take no more, she
pushed up on my shoulders and pressed me back against the sofa. In
one swift maneuver, she straddled my lap. Her hands worked deftly
at my pants, unfastening the snap and sliding the zipper down. She
found me ready and wasted little time on foreplay. Jill bunched up
her skirt, worked her panties out of the way then slid down on me
in one fluid movement. My head fell back against the sofa and I
sucked in my breath.

“Oh God, Jill!”

With her head tipped back and her eyes closed, she
moaned and rocked her hips into mine. I held her loosely at the
waist as she worked over me. The discarded newspaper crinkled
rhythmically beneath me as her efforts drove me closer to the
brink. When she finally accomplished what she needed for herself,
she tipped my head back and leaned over me with her hands wrapped
around the back of my neck and her thumbs pressed against my
throat. Her lips hovered a hair’s-breadth above mine as she panted
into my mouth. With her eyes half closed, she stared into mine,
focused and methodical, until I could hold back no longer.

It was moments like that that took my breath away.
I’d been waiting my entire life for a woman like Jill, and I made
damn sure I wouldn’t lose her. After the first six months, I asked
her to move in with me at my Noe Valley rental, to live in sin, I
joked, and she eagerly accepted. Afterwards, our lives intertwined
in every possible way.

After living together for well over a year, I
suggested we buy a house, perhaps in the Sunset District, a vibrant
neighborhood that overlooked Golden Gate Park and the glittering,
blue Pacific. Jill’s eyes gave her away and, at first, she appeared
excited by the idea, but as the hours ticked by, she grew quiet,
and I realized something was bothering her. I nestled up next to
her that evening as she absently watched reality TV.

“What’s wrong, love? You seem troubled. Have I
overstepped? Wouldn’t you like to buy a home with me?

She tilted her head and pondered how best to
respond, probably in a noble attempt to answer without offending
me. “No, Ty, it’s not that. It’s just…well… Don’t you think it’s
kind of…I don’t know, backwards…buying a house together without,
you know…being married first?” She lowered her head, nervous of my
reaction.

I raised her chin with my finger and looked at her
with narrowed eyes. “Why Miss Demetrio, are you proposing to
me?”

With a tiny smile, she gasped and batted my hand
away. “Absolutely not! It’s not
my
place to propose.”

I laughed. “No? Well then, I’m not quite sure what
to do with this ring, that is, if you don’t intend on marrying me.”
I pulled out a light blue box and tipped the lid back.

Jillian’s chin dropped as she stared transfixed at
the large, square-cut diamond glistening in the soft light. Her
gaze snapped up to mine.

“Marry you? Oh my God! You really want to get
married?”

I laughed again. “Well, of course. What do you think
I’ve been working toward all this time? It’s only natural for a man
to want a wife, children, and a home. Don’t you think?”

“Yes,” she answered solemnly.

“Yes? Yes what exactly?” I wondered aloud.

She giggled, her grin mischievous. “Yes, it’s only
natural.”

I raised one brow. “Anything else?”

“Yes.”

I huffed at her stubborn sense of humor. “Yes
what?”

This time, her response was little more than a
whisper.

“Yes, Tyler, I’ll marry you.”

Chapter Four

Tyler

 

Looking back now, I could see that I was too
absorbed in my relationship with Jillian and had excluded Nick to a
certain degree. Of course, he was right, and I was relieved to have
finally taken my share of the blame for his accident. But when I
came to the States, I came to live out my dream, alone and
unencumbered by my family overseas. Then Nick followed me, and I
tasted bitter resentment—that he should intrude on my ambition, on
my dreams. And when it fell on my shoulders to constantly pick up
after his messes, I grew angry and even more contentious. In
deference to my selfishness, I had learned a hard lesson in the
end. Like it or not, my brother, Nick, would be forever at my side.
Knowing now how close I had come to losing him, twice in fact, I
decided to put all that bitterness aside. He was the only family I
had left, and I loved him.

When I opened my eyes, I turned toward Nick. He was
rolled onto his side with his palm cradling his cheek, staring at
me. It still felt like an ocean lay between us, but with all the
unspoken words and resentment now out in the open, I felt sure we
could close the gap.

“I’m sorry, Nick. A whole year gone. I regret not
saying something earlier. Guess it was just too difficult to admit.
I hope someday you can forgive me.” I stretched out my hand.

He gave me a lopsided grin, made more so by his fat
lip, but it was still the same foolish smirk I’d known my entire
life, a little something he borrowed from our father. “It’s already
forgotten,” he said, accepting my apology with a tender handshake.
“I’ll always be there for you, brother.”

I smiled. “Well I’m glad to hear that because…I’d
like you to stand up for me at my wedding in the fall. Would you do
that for me?”

Nick looked genuinely surprised, happy even. Then a
shadow fell across his features. His brow knitted together as he
dropped his eyes to his hand fidgeting with the bed sheets.

“Um…well…I’ll have to think about it, if you don’t
mind,” he said as he peeked back up at me. “I have a few things I
need to take care of as soon as I get out of here. I’ll give you my
answer then, if that’s okay with you.”

I was stunned. I thought this was something he would
jump all over. He was always bugging me to do things with him. It
concerned me that he didn’t accept right away, and I was curious
what things he was referring to, but he rolled over and laid his
head back with his eyes closed.

“Right,” I replied. “Whenever you’re ready
then.”

I excused myself and walked down the hall for a much
needed cup of coffee. Jill called my mobile and told me she was on
her way, so we met in the hospital cafeteria for a quiet lunch. She
showed up, bridal magazines in hand, and shared all the pages she
had dog-eared with a bright light glowing in her eyes. I smiled,
but only half-heartedly, and told her what Nick had said when I
asked him to be my best man.

Sadness replaced the glowing spark, and her bottom
lip pouted. “He’ll turn around, Ty. Nick just needs a few weeks to
recover, that’s all. He’s had a very difficult year.”

I agreed with a solemn nod and kissed her cheek as
she left for an appointment. I felt a slight grip of loneliness
tighten about my heart as I watched her leave. Sighing tiredly, I
lifted myself from the chair and left to return to my brother.

As I walked down the long hall, stepping around the
busy nurses and technicians as they scurried between patients, two
men I didn’t recognize walked out of Nick’s private room. One was
tall with a massive build, the fabric of his sport coat stretching
tautly across his broad shoulders. The other was older with thick
silver hair, a slight build, and impeccably dressed in an
expensive, well-cut European suit. The older man turned back toward
Nick’s open door with a two-finger salute and a genial
dasvidaniya
. A chill ran through me as his unmistakable
Russian accent registered in my fatigued brain. I picked up my pace
and called out to him.

“Hey you, stop! Who are you? What do you want? Stop
right there!
Stop!

Both men turned their heads in my direction, but
proceeded briskly toward the open elevator door at the end of the
hall. They turned back to me as they boarded the lift. The old man
caught my eye and smiled while the giant jabbed repeatedly at the
elevator’s buttons.

“Wait!” I called out again, but the doors hissed
closed, and they were gone.

With concern fluttering in my stomach, I rushed back
to Nick’s room, bumping into another technician as he wheeled a
loaded cart past the open door. Nick stood near the window, staring
down onto the busy street below. He didn’t turn as I entered though
I knew he must have heard me shouting out in the hall.

“Who was that?” I asked. “What did they want?” But
he continued to gaze out the window without responding. I walked up
from behind and rested my hand along his forearm. “Nick, did you
hear me? Who were those men?”

His expression was wistful but resigned. “Just some
mates. New friends of mine. No one you know.”

“Since when do
you
have Russian friends? What
the hell did they want?”

Nick sighed, his brow furrowing for a split second
before he turned and looked me in the eye. “Not much. Alexi and I…
Well…we’ve finally worked out a deal, that’s all. Everything’s been
taken care of.”

“Who the hell is Alexi? And what does that mean,
you’ve worked out a deal?”

He stalled for a moment and rocked his head from
side to side. “Well, he’s kind of like a manager, I guess. Said his
boss was willing to give me the…opportunity to pay him back, that’s
all. No worries.” He jabbed me with his elbow. “You can relax now,
Ty.”

BOOK: The Mistaken
4.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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