28 Seconds: A House of Valentine Novella (13 page)

“So much like Teresa,” he whispered.

It took everything I had not to snap at him.

“I married them, did you know?  And baptized you and Cole.  Most of the men here actually.”

“Baptizing the devil’s army,” I groused, low under my breath and Tony fell into a coughing fit as he tried to cover his laughter.

“Sorry, Father.  The incense, just-”  Tony had to step away fast to get himself under control.

“Will you be taking confession, Ariana? It’s been so long since we talked.”

“Confessionals are closed,” my father spat.

“It’s tradition, Franco,” Father Michael reprimanded.  “And your men, I’m sure, could use a little time in the confessional.”

I can’t imagine there were many people my father tolerated insolence from but apparently Father Michael was one of them.  They were arguing in polite terms, when a familiar shadow finally appeared beside me.

Cole’s warm touch was on my lower back, his voice low at my ear.  “Do you have things to confess, Ariana?”

“To a priest on the Valentine payroll?  I think not.”

“So very clever.”  He gave me a soft stroke.  “We’re set up in the banquet hall to the right but there will be men on patrol everywhere.  Do you want me to have Al and Tony-”

I glanced to the open doorway where I could see the long table already encircled by men.  None of them looked happy which made me wonder how safe Cole and my father were even in this church.  “No, it’s fine. Take them with you.”

“You certain?”

I sent him a glare and he raised his hands.  “Okay.”

He started stepping away but I grabbed his coat jacket.  “Do you have a rosary?”

“Not on me but I can get you one.”

“Here,” my father tugged one of his pocket. “It was your mother’s.”

It wasn’t some meaningful exchange I might have hoped for. In fact, it seemed to barely register in my father’s conscious and he was already stalking toward the gathering up ahead. So I simply nodded. “Gee, thanks, Dad.”

Cole chuckled at my sarcasm then gave me a soft tap on the hip. “If you need me-”

“I know where to find you. It’s a church not the Vatican museum, Cole.”

“So feisty today,” he murmured. “Did you skip your coffee this morning?”

I
was
testy but I had no real excuse for it. We were in the church where my mother’s memorial service would be held, her ashes were even here somewhere, and there were dozens of cartel men everywhere but none of that even seemed relevant. Instead, there was something in the pit of my stomach nagging away with a nervous underpinning. Taking a seat in the back, I fingered the rosary, hoping for some sense of calm. I hadn’t actually prayed it in years but there were some things a cradle Catholic could never forget. I let my hands caress the cranberry red beads that had been worn smooth after years of use. Finally, there was something familiar in all the chaos of my life. I could picture my mom holding it, pressing the bronze cross to her lips, her pinky finger always locked on the dove charm that was so fascinating to me as a child.

I had been reciting the prayers for over an hour when angry words filtered from the men’s table at the front of the church. Franco was on his feet, Cole beside him and other Valentine men encircling them. Men around the table, other families I presumed, were getting up as well. Many were in placating positions but several looked ready to fight. I glanced around for Father Michael but he had hidden himself away in the confessional and seemed in no hurry to come out. I closed my eyes, tightening my grip on the rosary in hopes of making it all just disappear. I envisioned my mom, on the beach, the rosary twisted onto her wrist and dangling from her palm. But, no, that wasn’t right. It wasn’t the red of her rosary…it was blood. My eyes fluttered open, staring at my own wrist and saw long scratches of blood. I tugged my sleeve down, sure I was just losing my mind, when the metal tink of a knife against my crucifix, made the memories all rush back. The screaming…the fighting…the grit of sand mixed with blood. It assaulted my senses just as a streams of lightning coursed through my body. I curled instinctively, my body sliding off the pew and collapsing to the floor as a blanket of darkness engulfed me.

“Ariana.”

I knew it was Father Michael’s voice but I couldn’t place his location. I tried to move but my body seemed just too heavy to cooperate. I closed my eyes, trying to remember what the flashback had been about it. Men, I thought and then realized how idiotic that sounded...it was always about these damned Valentine men, wasn’t it?

“Get Cole. Now.”

No. Not Valentine men this time, that was what had been different. Other men, from other families. And me. But not little me. I was a teen. They had found us and we had run. But not before I slit his throat. “Not possible. Not possible. Not possible.”

“Ariana, look at me.”

I tried to look but couldn’t find anyone. It was so dark, so very dark. I felt my body shake, not a lot but enough to rattle off some of the darkness.

“Ariana.” More urgent this time. “Tony!”

“Not possible. Not possible. Not possible.”

“Where did that knife come from? Is that hers?”

“Hey, kid, can you look at me?”

I tried to smile but had no idea if it worked.

“Somebody get the knife and bag it.”

“I’m going to touch you, okay? Just want to check you over. Alright?”

“Ariana.”

Not possible. Not possible. Not possible.

“Tell us something here, Father.”

“I came out of the confessional and she seemed to be having a seizure. Her whole body-”

“Fast facts, Father, or I’ll-”

“Take that gun away from him. Cole, either settle down or get the hell out.”

“Little shocks all over her body, and then she couldn’t seem to hear anything, and then blacked out for a bit but came to and couldn’t see anyone.”

“Much better, Father, thank you.”

“TMS,” I mumbled.

“Will everyone just shut the hell up?” Tony’s booming voice made my whole body quiver but everything did go quiet. “Tell me again, kiddo.”

“You can hear me?” I shook my head. I thought I’d said that in my head.

“Barely because of these stupid shitheads. Sorry, Father.”

“Understood. The Lord forgives in times of-”

“That didn’t mean you could talk.”

“Yes, Cole.”

“TMS.” I repeated.

“She’s talking nonsense-”

“If everyone doesn’t shut up-”

“Childish. You men are so childish.”

“Yeah, kiddo they are. Tell me one more time, okay? Cole has a gun to their head so they are gonna be quiet for you this time.”

I tried to think of something that Tony would understand. “TMS. Marine Corps. PTSD. Walter Reed.”

I could feel Tony’s hot breath on me as he exhaled. “Good job, kid. Father, can we move her to a room somewhere? Got a sofa or something? She’s gonna be fine but we need her away from anything metal.”

“Yes, of course. Follow me.”

“Cole, your watch!”

And then everything went pleasantly black again. It seemed much shorter this time, though I had no reference. I was jostled for a little bit and then was finally left untouched. A warm weight was dropped over me and I could feel Cole’s hand brushing against my hair. I was in his lap, I knew how it felt to be here, how his thigh curved against the shape of my neck. But maybe that wasn’t even real either. Maybe all of that was actually the dream.

Not possible. Not possible. Not possible.

“What part of no metal didn’t you understand?”

“Fuck you.”

“Don’t let Father Michael hear you say that.”

“So-”

“Transcranial magnetic stimulation. You told her I was ex-military?”

“Yes, in passing.”

“Damn smart of her to pick up on that to clue me in. I would’ve still been going through an alphabet of street drugs. TMS is in trials to treat military patients with PTSD. Only a couple of hospitals have permission to use the technology since it’s so experimental. It’s basically delivers-”

“Tony, for chrissakes-”

“It’s a taser specifically for brain function.”

“Who?”

“Goretti maybe. They went through an electronics phase.”

“Or Bianchi. They generally take the clean route.”

“It’s too bold. It’s as if someone
wants
to start a war.”

“Yeah, at Ariana’s expense.”

“Cole, she’s not even safe in a damn church.”

“Not possible. Not possible. Not possible.”

“Welcome back,” Cole’s soft voice was next to me. “It is possible because it happened but I can damn sure guarantee-”

“Cole, that’s not what she’s talking about. She’s been repeating that for awhile. Father Michael heard it before she blacked out the first time.”

“Al. Always so calm and reasonable. No matter what.”

“Yes, yes he is.”

“Wait, you can hear me?” I opened my eyes and had to blink back from the influx of colors.

“Get the lights off, turn on those lamps. Sorry, kid, didn’t think about that.”

I waited until the clicking noises stopped and then tried again. It took several minutes for the shapes to turn into shadows and then actual people. I offered a half smile to the trio. “My heroes.”

“Heroes would’ve prevented this in this first place.”

“Cole, stop being such an ass,” I coughed. “Can I have some water?”

One of them helped me shuffle to sitting as a plastic bottle, already opened, was placed in my hand. I took a quick drink, making certain it wasn’t going to revolt, and then drank down most of the bottle. “For the record, I’m against TMS as treatment for any fucking ailment on the planet. Just so you know.”

“Duly noted.”

Cole’s voice made me feel all warm and fuzzy and I smiled...until he spoke again.

“So what’s not possible?”

The memory came back instantly and in its entirety. Brilliant, vivid and much much too real. My body’s reaction was only a split second behind the one in my head.

“Ariana, look at me.” His hands were clenching my shoulders, pinning me to his lap, and we were both doused in water. “Breathe, baby girl, and look at me.”

“Sorry. I’m so sorry.” I glanced to Tony and Al who were observing in silence. “Sorry.”

“Wait until you see me really drunk and then tell me if you have something to apologize for.”

The soft laughter was warming and I could feel the tension in my body starting to release.

“Better,” Cole whispered. “Still not good, but better.”

I hadn’t even realized he was checking me again but, when I glanced down, his fingers were wrapped around my wrist.

“Any lasting affects from TMS?”

Tony shrugged. “Depends on what the hell that was.”

“Please don’t patronize me. I know he tells you two everything.”

“Everything about
business
, Ariana,” Cole corrected. His fingers drifted light across my cheek. “I would never tell them something so personal without your permission.”

“But-”

“Ariana, it’s always your choice.”

I nodded and, buying time, began tugging at my wet clothes.

“I’ll find you a towel.”

“And coffee. I bet you’re ready for some coffee.”

It was sweet. These two men, killers both of them, and they were making up excuses to leave and give me privacy. “I’ll accept both, but could you come back? I think it might help if I tell you some things.”

“You got it, kid.”

“Are you sure?” Cole asked as soon as they were gone.

“I’m sure they need to know I could black out on them at any second. Anything more, no, I’m not.”

“Fair enough. The rate their occurring-”

It was an observation, not a question, but I replied anyway. “I know.”

“This one seemed-”

“The worst,” I whispered. “Cole, the worst it’s ever been.”

“You remember all of it, the entire memory, this time, don’t you?”

I nodded, afraid of blacking out again if I thought too much on it. His hand slipped under my shirt, resting along my ribs, and he began the soothing pattern of strokes that calmed me every time.

“You’re not alone anymore, Ariana, and you have armies to protect you now.”

“Those armies, Cole, are what frighten me most.”

He opened his mouth to demand clarification but Tony and Al were back with blessed timing. I sat up and accepted the towel, drying myself off as much as possible before handing it off for Cole to do the same. Then I wrapped my hands around the steaming mug and inhaled the scent before taking a long drink.

“My brain,” I offered, “is a little dysfunctional.”