Page 101 of Meet Me in Montreal

“I’ll stick around long enough to make sure you’re okay but after that…after that I’ve gotta go.” Santino’s heart squeezed, like someone had reached inside his chest with their full fist. “I signed those papers like you wanted me to, but I still can’t stay away from you. You make me fuckingweak.I love you,tesoro. With everything in me, I love you. And I’m gonna love you till the day I die. But I can’t stay. I can’t live here knowing you’re so close and I can’t be with you. I have to leave.”

The ragged sound of his voice was too fucking pitiful, even for him. His throat choked on his own words, and he had to stop. When he could get a grip on himself, he pressed on.

“As for you, I hope you do every fucking thing you want to do. Wear your hair the way you want, do whatever kind of job youwant. Or don’t work at all. See the world. Stay up late watching those crazy ass horror movies and reading all night. Let someone love you. Just don’t love him back too much.” Santino chuckled despite the water clogging his throat. He touched her hurt temple with his fingertips gently, so gently, gazing at her. “Be happy.”

Most likely she hadn’t heard him, lost as she was somewhere deep in her medicated slumber. But a tear slid from the corner of her eye. He stood up and leaned down to kiss that tear. The taste of salt clung to his lips when he heard the door open.

Nadine was standing in the doorway, pausing once she saw he was by the bedside. He turned his face away from her until he could pull himself together, although it took every ounce of strength he had left.

“Hello, Nadine.” The gruff greeting hung in the air. Santino had never been invited to call her Mom.

She stepped one foot into the room, then another. “Bobby called me. He said…you got her out of that house?” It was phrased like a question, as though whatever she’d been told, she hadn’t quite believed.

He nodded jerkily. Searching for the right words, he couldn’t find any. Nadine came in and he surrendered his spot, gesturing to the chair so she could sit by her daughter’s side. But instead of sitting, she turned to him, gazing up into his face, then slowly wound her arms around his waist and lay her head on his shuddering chest.

“Thank you.” It was barely a whisper. Maybe he’d only imagined it, but Nadine said it again. “Thank you.”

Nadine finally released him and went to sit with Vanessa, taking her hand in hers as she bowed her head and cried softly. That was his cue to let them have their time alone, so Nadine could say whatever was in her heart the way he had.

He hoped it was good. He hoped it was everything Vanessa deserved to hear.

From the doorway, Santino took one last look at his treasure, his diamond who’d come through pressure and fire and still shone brilliant and beautiful. Then he left.

He had things to take care of.

35

LOVE WILL TEAR US APART

VANESSA

Vanessa was lying in bed, watching the news on the wall-mounted TV of her hospital room. Thankfully, she was alone. Santino had arranged for her to be in a private room. She’d thank him, except she hadn’t seen him since the fire. That had been two days ago, or at least that’s how long she thought it had been. It was hard to tell since she’d been in and out of sleep in between the constant testing, poking and prodding. At least that damned tube was out of her throat, even though she still croaked like a frog when she spoke.

In the meantime, the news was providing plenty of distraction.

“…Real estate mogul Chuck Claremore is once again under fire, literally. In a shocking turn of events, the Westchester County District Attorney’s office is seeking Mr. Claremore in connection with an arson investigation centering on a fire that burned down the home of his former attorney. He was granted a request to come in voluntarily for questioning, only to flee before his appointment. Mr. Claremore, who was recently acquitted ofall charges in a recent trial, had been in a dispute with one of the attorneys on his defense team. That attorney’s home was allegedly set on fire just days after the acquittal.”

The blonde reporter strolled in front of the burnt husk of the house, turning briefly to glance at it. The front half was a blackened wreck; even though the back looked somewhat intact, the structure was clearly uninhabitable. Tears sprang to Vanessa’s eyes looking at it, at the place she and Santino had tried to fill with love, with a family, but in the end, had only housed despair.

“You used literally wrong,” she whispered to the screen.

“That attorney, whose name we won’t share for privacy reasons, was attacked inside the home by one Carmine Spallini before it went up in a blaze. The detectives on the case believe Spallini set the fire intending to make the attorney’s death seem like an accident but instead, he himself died on the scene. The victim’s husband, who happens to be a firefighter, got the victim safely out of the house in an act that witnesses are calling the bravest they’ve ever seen.”

There was a clip of Captain Tanner talking about Santino’s bravery, without naming him, which she appreciated. Next, they showed pictures of both Spallini brothers. Sure enough, the man who’d attacked her was Carmine.

“Now Carmine Spallini, along with his brother Joe Spallini, was a known associate of Mr. Claremore, who has been rumored to have been spotted sailing out of Montauk, Long Island, on his luxury yacht. Joe Spallini is also wanted for questioning in his alleged role in the assault of Claremore’s lawyer.…”

Vanessa muted the volume when the reporter turned to her neighbors, who gestured at the house. Most likely saying things like, “Nothing like that ever happens here.”

Suddenly, Vanessa was glad the house was uninhabitable. She’d never have wanted to live there again, even if it hadremained whole. Thoughts of that bloody struggle momentarily clouded her head like the smoke, like the ashes. The way Santino rushed in, the things he’d done,for her…

A soft voice snapped her out of that dark daydream. “Hey, Vanessa.”

Turning at the sound of the voice, Vanessa smiled. It was Gina standing in the doorway, and her mother Carolina was standing slightly behind. The first was a sight for sore eyes, but the latter? She just made Vanessa sore. Nevertheless, Vanessa grinned when Gina tiptoed in and eased her way into a gentle hug that ended in a tight squeeze.

Coughing, Vanessa wheezed, “It’s good to see you Gina, but you’re hurting me.”

“I’m so sorry,” Gina said quickly, pulling back. There were tears in her green-flecked brown eyes. Happy or sad or something in between? “You look awful. But you’re beautiful. How do you feel?”

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