Aloha, page 101
My heart rips to pieces, a tear slides down my cheek and I hate the weakness there, I hate that she’s done nothing wrong and everything right and all I can think of is I don’t deserve her, I love her.
I love her so damn much.
I pull away. “You know how much I love you?”
“A lot.” She smiles, tears in her eyes, one escapes down her cheek. “But do you truly know how much I love you?”
“Yes,” I say without hesitation. “You’ve been through a lot, dealt with a lot, and you’re just… present, always present, by my side. What more could a person ask for, then having the love of their life standing next to them? You don’t even need to speak and I feel you, I know you, I see you.”
Her eyes fill with more tears. “Good answer.”
“Truth always is the best answer.”
“When I met you…” She sniffles. “…you were broken, a shell of a man, and with each day I saw you heal more and more, but the thing about scars, Sergio, they always exist and if we don’t acknowledge their presence they still don’t fade, they haunt, so today, I wanted to do something for yours.”
“What?” I almost stumble backward. I wasn’t expecting any of this and I already feel too vulnerable to even talk, let alone follow one word after another.
Her hands trace the tally marks on my arm, the kills I’ve made, they trace across my chest, and finally they fall on the tattoo on my lower stomach.
Two. Twirls.
I don’t back away, but it feels almost invasive even though it’s my wife touching me, I slowly lower my head. Her hands fall away and then she grips mine and keeps walking.
I follow her.
I would follow her anywhere. She knows this. I no longer ask questions. I’ve always been a leader, but with her? Nah, with her I keep walking, following her footsteps as pain sears in my soul as I hear the waves crash as I realize that I could have so easily fallen.
But I had an angel that saved me.
I had her.
Her hand grips mine tighter.
We stop.
I finally look up at the small chapel and frown. It overlooks one of the cliffs on the resort, could maybe hold fifty people tops. The brown shutters are open and in front as we walk in and see the small rows of pews—he stands there.
Phoenix.
The worst of us.
The one that rose above the ashes in the Cosa Nostra.
The one that once was unredeemable in all of our eyes, and he’s standing in a chapel.
His dark hair falls by his ears, his tattoos line down his skin, but stand out against it, the family crests almost glisten on his forearms.
His smile is wide, happy… rare for someone who everyone's afraid of. “Hi.” He’s against a backdrop of the blue ocean.
Nobody else is present.
Or so I think.
And then I feel them.
I feel people, I don’t know how I know, I just do.
Suddenly the room fills, it’s slow, purposeful.
My entire family.
Abandonato, Campisi, Nicolasi, De Lange, Alfero, and finally Sinacore, and Petrov.
They all stand with their kids at their sides.
They all stare straight ahead, not even looking at me.
And Val holds my hand tighter.
“We are all here”—Phoenix starts—“to honor those who have fallen, not just by our own hands, but because of tragedy. We’re here to do one more thing that we are now adding to our own family tradition.” His smile is sad, he looks down while his wife, Bee, comes up to him and grips his hand. He lets out a sigh I feel deep in my soul. It’s filled with all my regrets, maybe even his. “Today is the anniversary of Andi Petrov…” His voice catches.
I almost can’t look at him.
His eyes meet mine. “Death can be the beginning of something beautiful, it can be a new start, and I’d like to think—no believe—that her death brought our Families together. Enemies to friends and lovers. We have so much to be thankful for, but what we really want to honor here is Sergio and Val, happy anniversary. We’re a lot of things, we have a very…” He pauses and smiles. “Interesting career.”
Laughter and small chuckles erupt around the small chapel, hopefully we don’t get lightning hitting us anytime soon since technically our jobs are a bit dark but instead, it’s almost like more light breaks through the clouds and into that chapel.
I want to believe it’s Andi laughing with us.
I want to believe that she’s looking down and smiling.
* * *
“Two twirls, Sergio. Life should include more than one, otherwise, why else are you living, if you can’t indulge in more? We deserve at least one more. You.” She pressed her hand against my chest. “Deserve joy. Do you even know what that is?”
I frowned. “Joy? It’s being happy.”
“No.” She shook her head. “Joy isn’t being happy just like sleep isn’t actual rest, resting is when your mind shuts off, sleep is what you do at night or attempt to accomplish. But rest? Rest is when you wake up like you’ve been sleeping a really long time without any intruding thoughts knowing that you’re better. Rest is healing. When you die, you rest, but you know the really wonderful part? The morning always comes. Whether it’s in your dreams or after you pass. Rest is what humanity needs, it’s where I’m going but before I go rest for a little bit and allow my soul to heal, remember this…” She turned in her white dress, the pearls she refused to take off spun along with it dancing on her chest. “You need at least two.”
“Two twirls.” I repeated.
She was barefoot in the field. “You try.”
“I’m not dancing barefoot in a field, you do remember I tried to kill you the minute I met you?”
She threw her head back and laughed, her blonde hair moved across her shoulders touching her skin like a kiss and I remembered thinking, wow, how pretty. “I was already dead.”
I froze in that moment, hating her truth.
She shrugged though. “Life isn’t worth living if you don’t take every moment, so now, husband who was forced to marry me at gunpoint—two twirls, otherwise I’m grabbing my dagger.”
“The one strapped to your thigh or the one by your ankle?”
“Both?”
“Is that a question?”
“Thought it was more of an answer, but sure, both.”
I laughed. “I kind of hate you right now, if the guys see me twirling in a field, I’ll never hear the end of it.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “Good.”
I twirled so hard and fast you’d think I’d studied ballet. I twirled, and I twirled.
I twirled for her.
For my dying wife.
Sometimes, I think I’m still twirling now.
Sometimes I think my life is nothing but chaotic circles and the only ones that center me are my family.
My kids.
My wife.
* * *
Phoenix looks toward the door, I wasn’t even paying attention, lost in my own thoughts, but there are at least a hundred people lined up down to the shore and each of them are wearing leis of different colors.
I’ve always thought I was a strong man, but when I see them standing, and when they start singing, I nearly lose it.
It’s Lei Haliʻa by Kealiʻi Reichel I lose it.
I completely lose my ability to function.
All I have is my wife's hand and my family around me.
“The earth gives and takes,” Phoenix whispers. “Today we give back. Every family member will be donating to Hawaii, and every single one of us will be releasing a lei into the ocean in honor of Andi and to those that have fallen, and in the end… we’ll dance, the way that she did every day until she died.”
I don’t know how I manage to leave the chapel and walk, maybe it’s because Val is holding my hand, but we make it down to the beach. The sun is high, bright, pure.
I want to smile, I want to honor her as someone hands me a lei of pink and purple flowers, slowly my family does the same and comes up beside me. The tide hits my feet as they sink into the white sand. She’s not coming home.
She’s already there.
She’s free.
A tear slides down my cheek as my wife walks past me, I expect her to put the lei in the water, instead she puts it around her neck and slowly while the sun shines down, she walks further into the water, it’s like watching a baptism, and then with all of us watching she turns once, twice, and slowly lays back into the water.
It is a baptism.
Of new life.
Of what was, what is now, all I see is her dark hair, the sun, and her lei floating around her.
And then she smiles and looks up at the sky. “Two twirls, Andi, always two twirls. I love you, you’ll never be forgotten.”
Slowly, one by one, my entire family, some of the most terrifying mafia bosses in the world, walk into the water and do the same.
Our mourning ends with us in the water, looking up at the sky.
And then, in the perfect ending, Phoenix says, “Amen.”
I’ve been Catholic my entire life.
I have never until that moment understood the fullness of the closure.
The ending.
Only to have our Capo add on. “Selah.”
In Hebrew it can mean forgiveness and some even say forever.
So I whisper to the sky, “Forever.”
And I grab my wife's hand.
I have no clue how long we stay that way, all of us in the water probably looking like psychopaths, but I smile.
And in the end, sadness turns into laughter.
And forever?
Well, forever is forever, isn’t it?
When I walk back up the beach, I swear I can hear her laughter and when I feel the sun on my back and watch all the kids play, I nod.
It’s good.
It’s so good.
Life isn’t perfect, but moments are. And they are etched in our souls forever, always, and nothing can take that away.
Thank you for reading. Enjoy more Eagle Elite books starting with ELITE.
Goodbye and Hello
Skye Warren
Goodbye and Hello
Jane
"Aloha."
The guide puts a lei of fresh pink flowers around Paige's neck, who squeals in delight. Unable to contain her excitement, she dashes across the beach. White sand kicks up behind her, leaving a spray in her wake before she hits the foamy water.
Emily laughs, chasing after her daughter.
The ocean is the color of jade, sand the color of ivory. Impossibly tall palm trees line the beach. The sun is so bright, it makes the entire world look like it's made of glass. Waves crash in relentless rushes, a steady roar beneath the shouts of playful children.
Gardenias, jasmine, and other flowers waft through the air. Heavy with floral notes and cool drops of morning dew, they coat the beach like an invisible blanket.
Beau and I accept our leis with grace, having learned that it's rude to refuse them. I force my nose not to twitch because I also learned that I'm allergic to whatever these flowers are. We give our thanks. Only when the guide is out of sight does Beau pull the flowers from around my neck.
Finally, I allow myself a big sneeze.
It startles a seagull into flight.
Beau grins. "There's my girl."
"It's like I'm allergic to luxury."
"You're allergic to pollen. Simple as that."
I scrunch my toes into the warm sand, trying to remind myself that this is real. Not a dream. Not a fantasy. I'm really standing on a beach in Hawaii, my skin sun-warmed, my blood leavened with pina coladas. It's paradise. It's my life now.
Hard to believe.
Hard to accept, really.
I guess part of me, the young, childish part, started to believe I couldn't have nice things. That I lost my parents and lived in a shitty foster home because that's what I deserved.
Beau's blue eyes match the expansive sky behind him. "Sweetheart," he says, his voice gentle.
I force a smile, but he sees right through me. "It's too nice," I say, my voice coming out shaky.
A strong hand behind my neck pulls me in. A soft kiss on my forehead promises me a lifetime of too nice. "You'll get used to it. Being spoiled. You'll be so pampered it will feel normal to you. I swear it."
I glance up at Beau, feeling safe in his arms, but something else lingers in my chest. Fear. I'm terrified that this is all a dream - that I'll wake up in the cold, stale air of a foster home or worse, alone in my grief. Maybe it's because I've never had anything this good happen to me before. Maybe I'm too damaged to accept happiness.
His lips brush against my temple, his hand rubbing soothing circles on my back. "You don't have to pretend with me, you know," he murmurs. "I know it's overwhelming, but it's okay to enjoy it. To let yourself be happy."
I nod, but the anxiety doesn't dissipate. It's a constant hum in my veins, a reminder of all the times I've been hurt. One day my father was with me. The next day he was gone. How do I know this paradise won't disappear just as fast?"
Beau tilts my chin up, his thumb stroking my cheek. "I won't let anything hurt you again."
"Let's go back to the room," I say because that's how he can distract me. It's how he can convince me, for a few moments of bliss, that this is forever.
His eyes darken to sapphire. "I'll tell Mateo we're leaving."
"Leaving?" Mateo asks, appearing with drinks in both hands. "Where could you possibly be going, two people on their honeymoon?"
"I would punch you if you weren't holding pina coladas."
"One virgin," he says, holding up a drink in a plastic cup. "For Paige. And one not-so-virgin for Em."
Perhaps it would seem unconventional to have a double honeymoon but after everything we've been through together, the four of us, along with Paige, it feels right.
"We'll meet you for the tour?" I ask.
"Seven thirty at the marina," Mateo confirms. "Now all we have to do is make sure Beau doesn't spear any dolphins."
"Hilarious," Beau says drily.
"Hey," his best friend says, unrepentant. "Once a fisherman, always a fisherman."
"Lobsters, man. We caught lobsters. And I was a kid."
Paige pinwheels her arms back over to us, excitedly showing Mateo her new pink lei. He has settled into the life of a father rather well, considering he was a Hollywood heartthrob not that long ago. He still is, but he's taking a break from acting while he settles into his new role as stepfather. He's patient and playful with her, something she needs after so little levity in her life.
We say our goodbyes, laughing at how quickly Paige waves goodbye. She's flush with grownups these days, and I'm glad. When I first met her, her mother was in hiding, her father dead. She was orphaned with only a somewhat clueless uncle to care for her.
Beau hired me as her live-in nanny.
That was only the start of our adventure.
And this? This isn't the end. It's the next chapter.
Beau leads me down the gorgeous, lush pathways through the private resort toward our tower. We pass someone with a table who draws names with tropical leaves and seashells decorating them.
I pause, looking over the names they have displayed as samples. William. Alana. Jeremy. These children are loved. Everyone at this resort, everyone who commissions these paintings. My heart feels overfull with it.
"Do you want one for Paige?" Beau murmurs, running a hand up my back, massaging the tension from my neck.
"Yes. No. Maybe." I imagine the big letters P A I G E with coconuts and flamingos around them. That would be cute for her room at home. "I have a better idea."
There are scraps of paper for us to write the names. Instead of writing that, I sketch out a rectangle with a box at the top. TURTLE TOWN, I write in block letters. Then I sketch out a turtle covering part of the box.
Then I show it to Beau. He smiles, recognizing the shape of a Monopoly property square. Not one from the board game. This one's based on the place we went snorkeling yesterday. The reef contained clear, calm waters, perfect for viewing the marine life. Especially the endangered sea turtles.
"Perfect," he says, taking out his wallet to pay the artist. "Do you think she'll end up designing board games when she grows up?"
"Maybe," I say. "More likely she'll end up being a real estate tycoon with actual property."
The corners of his eyes crinkle. He had been completely unprepared for the stubborn grief-stricken child, but he'd done his best. He'd cared for her when the rest of the world had thrown her away. I could love him for that alone.
Of course, I love him for a million other reasons, too.
The villa we booked has broad floor-to-ceiling sliding doors that open onto a private infinity pool. There are three bedrooms—one for me and Beau. One for Mateo and Emily. And one for Paige.
The perfect honeymoon for our unconventional group.
Beau's eyes are dark as he leads me into our bedroom. Even here we have expansive views of the ocean. Hesitant, nervous, I reach for the button that closes the blackout blinds. After all, if we're going to have sex...
His hand stops me. "I want to see you," he murmurs.
I shiver underneath the air conditioner. The deep V-neck swimsuit and sheer sarong felt appropriate on the warm beach. Here in the hotel room, it feels scandalous.
My nipples turn hard beneath his hot regard.
He takes a step closer, his hand trailing along my bare arm. I shiver at his touch, my body responding immediately to his proximity. I can feel his hard length pressing against me, and I know he wants me just as badly as I want him.
"God, you're beautiful," he whispers, his breath warm against my temple.
I tilt my head back, offering him better access. He takes it, trailing kisses along my collarbone, down to the top of my swimsuit. He unties the knot of the sarong and the fabric falls away. He pulls down the straps of my swimsuit, letting it drop to the floor at my feet, leaving me bare to him.
