CHAPTER TWENTY

Once home, Olivia emptied the picnic basket. “Thank you for today. I didn’t know how much I needed it.”

Sal stood by the window, his back to her. “We both did.”

She sniffed the leftover potato salad, decided it smelled iffy and put it in the trash. “What’s next for you?”

“I head back to Atlanta.”

“So soon?” She hoped her voice didn’t give away her dismay.

“It’s time. I have to get back to work.”

“Of course.” He’d stayed in Savannah for a week, far longer than either of them had foreseen when she’d called him.

“I’m glad we found the truth. That’s what matters.” He swung back to her. His face looked ravaged.

“And us?” She dared to utter the question that had swelled inside of her for the last two days. Ever since the scene at the pier, Sal had pulled steadily away from her until she felt as though they were strangers. “What about us?”

She thought she had her answer, but, perversely, she wanted him to say the words. “You and me. Are we over, too?”

“Livvie.” If she’d doubted where she stood with him, the single word said it all. There was resignation there. Maybe even a touch of sadness. “We were over two years ago.”

“I thought... I thought things had changed.”

“Nothing’s changed. We’re still the same people. You’ll go back to fighting for the underdog and I...”

“And you’ll what?” She closed the few steps between them and laid her hand on his arm. “What will you do?”

“Shelley told me she had a new case for me. The CEO of an oil company received some threats and wants someone to look into it.”

“Is that what you want?”

“Whatever this thing is, it can’t go anywhere. You know what I did when I was overseas. I didn’t just kill the enemy. I spotted them for the snipers.”

“You did your job, the job your superiors assigned you. What would you say to a soldier who had done the same thing? Would you condemn him?”

“Of course not. He was following orders.”

“Then what makes it any different for you?” She let that sink in. “You think you’re better than the next guy? Then why are you holding yourself to a different set of standards?”

“You’re twisting everything up.”

“Am I?” She paused. “Or are you? You saved lives by doing what you did. You have to know that. In my book, that makes you a hero. Why can’t you show the same compassion to yourself that you showed to the children in Afghanistan? To your buddies?”

Sal didn’t respond, and she didn’t press. He needed to see in himself what she saw.

“I’m not a hero, so don’t make me out to be one.” He paced. “I’m not the right man for you. Your faith is a part of you. Mine died a long time ago. Don’t you get it? I’m broken inside. Nothing will put me back together.” The laugh he gave held not a whit of humor. Bitterness rang from its hollow tone. “I can’t ask you to stick around and watch as I fall apart.”

“What if I want to?”

“Then you’re a fool.”

The harshness of the words had her shrinking back. Calvin had said the same thing to her. Had it only been last night? “Why can’t you see yourself as I do? A strong man who did his best under intolerable conditions.”

“Don’t make this any harder than it has to be. You’ll go back to your life. And I’ll go back to mine.”

“I love you. Nothing’s going to change that. Not even you.” It was her turn to move to the window and turn her back to him. “I love you. I always have.”

“This isn’t the time...”

“It’s exactly the time.” She spun around, stood on tiptoe to touch her lips to his. “I love you.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying. You’re feeling grateful. That isn’t love.”

“I’m not a child. I know the difference between gratitude and love.”

“Do you? We haven’t had a normal moment since this all began. You can’t trust what you’re feeling.”

“Maybe it’s you I can’t trust.”

He sucked in a hard breath at that. “Olivia...”

“Don’t. Just don’t.”

“We can talk it out. You’ll see that I’m right.”

“Unless you can believe that I love you, we have nothing to talk about. You were a Delta, but you’re running scared. Of me. Of what we could have together.”

“There is no ‘together.’ Not for us.”

“Is that what you want?”

“It’s what has to be.”

“I love you. If you’re too much of a coward to accept it, then you’re not the man I thought you were.”

“I can’t stay. I’d make you miserable.”

“Don’t you dare speak for me. We could have something good. Build a life together. But you won’t let yourself see what we have. It’s one thing to push me away. I hope you don’t do the same with the Lord. Because however much I love you, He loves you infinitely more.”

She sensed the internal struggle going on within Sal. Just when she thought he might accept what she was saying, he took a step back, putting an unbreachable distance between them. In that instant, any hope she had died.

“I can’t leave you alone tonight. Whoever killed Chantry is still out there.”

“He has no reason to come after me. Not anymore. Go home, Sal. There’s no place for you here.”

From the window, Olivia watched him walk away. When he disappeared from sight, she pressed her head against the pane of glass. She massaged her temples, back and forth, back and forth, as though the repetitive action could erase the pain.

She fisted her hands at her sides and thought about why Sal had turned away from her. He’d given the standard “It’s not you, it’s me” speech, but was it true? Maybe she was wrong about his feelings and he really didn’t love her. Had she ever considered the possibility? As she thought about it, she realized he’d never said those three all-important words.

At the time, she’d thought it was his reluctance to give voice to his feelings, but now she knew differently. The pain of Sal’s leaving her two years ago was nothing compared to this new heartache.

For as long as she could remember, she had struggled for perfection, in her personal and her professional life. Failure was anathema to her, and she had definitely failed in her relationships.

She hadn’t set out to fall in love with Salvatore Santonni, but love had stolen into her heart, even when it wasn’t returned.

Love wasn’t convenient. It was messy, complicated and, at times, painful. There were still things they would have needed to talk through. The big and little things that couples who cared about each other shared and discussed, worked through and managed.

She and Sal could have handled those, if only he’d give them a chance. That was what hurt the most: he had refused to give them a chance.

Her childhood dreams of finding her Prince Charming, perfect in every way, had been replaced by something far more substantial and infinitely more dear. She’d found that she didn’t need a perfect man; she only needed the one who was perfect for her.

He didn’t believe it. He saw only darkness in himself. He didn’t see what she did. He didn’t see the courageous man who had given everything for his country, including parts of his soul. He didn’t see the compassion that shone from his eyes or the simple goodness that colored everything he did. He was a true hero in every sense of the word.

She knew one thing for certain. Nothing would ever be the same.

* * *

Sal forced himself to walk away. From Olivia. From the life they might have had if his soul had not been so scarred. As long as he focused on what was best for her, he was able to put one foot in front of the other. He had to steer away from the minefield of what he wanted for himself.

He longed to believe her, to believe they had a future together. Intending to call her, he picked up the phone, aching to hear her voice. And set it down again. Nothing had changed from when he’d left her two years ago. He was still the same man he had been, flawed and imperfect.

There’d been stark pain in Olivia’s voice when she’d ordered him to leave. He’d done that. He had to live with the knowledge. But how much worse for her would it be if she were to marry him and had to endure the darkness that lived inside of him?

He couldn’t do that to her. Wouldn’t.

What he felt for her terrified him because for every ounce of love he had for her, he felt...knew...simultaneously that he wasn’t worthy.

Leaving Olivia was the right thing to do, even if it wrenched the heart from him. Though they couldn’t be together, he still needed to make certain she was safe.

He called Nicco, who freelanced for S&J when they needed an operative in Savannah.

“I need a favor.”

* * *

Grateful that it was Sunday and she didn’t have to show up for work, Olivia showered and then dressed in a pair of jeans and a pink top. She needed to take in all that had happened over the last week: Calvin’s betrayal and death, and, more important, Sal’s rejection.

She tackled Calvin first. For her own peace of mind, she had to believe that he’d once been a good man, the man she remembered. He’d allowed the lure of easy money, the quick score, the big and shiny to take him down the wrong path. He wouldn’t be the first to succumb to such temptation.

As for Sal, she just wanted to weep. He’d turned away from her and what they might have had. She hadn’t been enough for him to put away the past.

The ringing of the doorbell had her checking the peephole, then opening the door as she recognized Nicco Santonni.

She hadn’t paid a lot of attention to Sal’s younger brother earlier and now gave him closer scrutiny. Though not as tall as Sal, Nicco still topped six feet easily. The dark hair and darker eyes said “Santonni,” as did the off-center dimple in his chin.

He had a fresh-faced look about him, she thought, until she looked more deeply and saw the telltale lines fanning from the corners of his eyes, eyes that said he had seen more than his share of suffering. Sal had told her once that Nicco had served with the Rangers, the cause of a good-natured rivalry between the brothers.

“Sal sent me. Said maybe you and I might hang out for a while.”

“You mean he asked you to keep an eye on me.”

The dimple winked as he grinned. “He might have said something about that.”

She bit back the cry that threatened to spill from her lips. Sal didn’t want her, but he’d sent his brother to watch over her? The irony of it was too much.

“Please, Olivia. Big brother will have my hide if I don’t do what he says.”

When he put it that way, she couldn’t refuse. “Come in.” She flushed at the grudging tone. “Thank you for coming. You didn’t have to.”

For the next hour, Nicco did his best to entertain her. While she appreciated his efforts, she didn’t need or want to be entertained.

Olivia tried to shake off the depression that had swallowed her whole. Sal didn’t want a future with her. He’d made that plain. She wasn’t doing herself or anybody else any good moping, so she tried to engage herself in the board game Nicco had found in her hall closet.

He moved a piece. “I win,” he crowed.

Despite her heartache, she laughed. “How do you know you won? Neither one of us can figure out the rules.”

It felt good. The laughter. “Thank you. I needed that.”

“My pleasure.” Nicco pushed aside the game and looked at her with eyes so much like his brother’s that she wanted to cry. “Whatever Sal did, he did because he loves you.”

“You’re wrong there. He doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

Whatever Nicco had been about to say was interrupted by the ringing of his phone.

She watched as consternation settled on his features as he spoke. “What is it?” she asked once he’d hung up.

“It’s my father. Mama took him to the hospital. Chest pains. She says it’s not serious, but she’s scared. I hear it in her voice. She can’t get a hold of Sal or my sisters.”

“Go. I’ll be fine here.”

He looked torn. “I promised Sal I’d stay with you.”

“I’ll be fine,” she repeated. “You need to be with your parents.”

“Stay inside. Lock the doors. Don’t let anyone in. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Olivia locked the door behind him and wondered what she’d do with the rest of the day. When her phone rang, she picked it up eagerly, hoping, praying it was Sal.

A glance at the caller ID showed that it was Walter.

When you’re feeling blue, do something for somebody else. Her father’s words bolstered her, so when Walter asked if she’d visit him, she said yes. How must the son be feeling upon learning what his father had done? Add to that Calvin’s murder, and Walter must be devastated.

She scribbled a message for Nicco and tacked it to the door. Went to see Chantry’s son. Be back soon. She set out for Walter’s place but knew a momentary qualm. Calvin was dead. Whoever killed him was still out there, but he’d have no interest in her, she assured herself. Not anymore.

There was no harm in going to see a friend.