La Vita Dolce Ch. 09

Gianni trailed his fingertips along the smooth wood of the pews as he passed toward the front of the cathedral.

The wake was over and the last of the mourners had left. The sanctuary glowed amber and the air was thick with the scent of burning candles, incense, and flowers. He remembered that lilies were her favorite flowers. In the front of cathedral white lilies covered every available surface. And in the center of the cathedral was a dark burnished wood coffin. A large arrangement of the white flowers was placed upon its lid.

Gianni fell to his knees before a small prayer altar ablaze with hundreds of tiny candles. Murmuring an anguished prayer, Gianni lit another candle and remained kneeling.

Natasha was gone, murdered by his blood. And all that remained of her was left in that coffin. It didn't seem real. How could all that she was be contained in that tiny wooden box?

A gentle hand was laid upon his shoulder. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the black garb of a priest.

"My son," the priest murmured.

Gianni wrenched away with a growl. "I'm not your son!" he snarled.

The priest paled and took a step backwards at the burning fury he saw in the young man's eyes.

Gianni stood before the coffin, emotion threatening to overcome him. Rage, loss, and most wholly, guilt. He had flung aside her love out of fear, and now she was dead. She died not knowing that he loved her. He loved her so much, he felt she had taken his very heart with her. And now he lay empty.

He brought his fingers to his lips then pressed his fingers to the smooth surface of the coffin. "Arrivederci, Bella," he whispered before turning to leave.

"My son!" the priest called out. "Have hope!"

Gianni whirled in the aisle to face him and sneered. "It's long since I had any hope." He pointed at the coffin. "Any hope that I had for my life died with her!" He turned on his heel and strode from the cathedral, his footsteps echoing.

"My son!" the priest called after him but Gianni ignored him.

The sky was grey when Gianni left the cathedral and the rain fell in fat heavy drops. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

Gianni turned the collar of his jacket up against the rain as he made his way down the steps of the cathedral to his car parked on the curb.

As Gianni settled into the black leather interior of the car and closed the door there was a rapping on the window. The priest.

With a grimace Gianni rolled down the window. "What is it now?" he ground out in irritation.

The priest passed a small envelope through the window. "There is always hope, my son." And then he was gone.

Gianni stared at the envelope in consternation. He opened it carefully. Inside there was one thick white card. There were only two words written upon it in scrawling black letters. She lives.

***

Natasha leaned her head against the window of the airplane as the private plane descended into a small airport in L.A. The feelings she felt were bittersweet. This was her home but her heart was heavy. She hated the way she had left things in Italy.

As Natasha stepped off the plane there was a shriek. A petite blonde girl was running towards her. "Tasha!" the girl squealed as she threw her arms around Natasha in a hug. "You're back!"

Natasha hugged her back and couldn't help smiling and she felt the tension draining out of her. "It's good to see you too, Lacey."

"Oh, my God, Tasha!" Lacey cried. "You have to tell me everything. How was Italy? How were the guys? What did you do?"

A hand came down on Lacey's shoulder. "C'mon Lace. Give her a chance to take a breath."

Natasha looked up. A tall male surfer version of Lacey stood grinning at her. Colin. "Welcome back, Tash," he said softly, his blue eyes assessing her.

He opened his arms with a grin and Natasha practically launched herself at him. Laughing he twirled her around. "Missed you too." He ruffled her hair kissed her cheek.

Lacey was not to be deterred. "So tell me about Italy. Did you meet any cute Italian guys? How's your uncle? Why are you back so soon?"

Natasha's smile faded though she tried valiantly to keep her expression cheerful.

Lacey noticed it right away. "Oh, Tasha." Lacey hugged her best friend. "What's wrong?"

Natasha pulled away slightly and took a deep breath. "Things were just different than I thought they would be."

Lacey's face was immediately sympathetic. Then she brightened suddenly. "I know exactly how to cheer you up."

Natasha grinned at her and lifted one ebony brow. Lacey was an unstoppable for of nature.

Lacey slipped her arm through Natasha's and led her towards Colin's white jeep wrangler parked nearby. "Frappuccinos and shopping are the cure for whatever blues you may have."

Colin snorted back laughter as he picked up Natasha's bags and tossed into the back of the jeep. The three climbed into the jeep and suddenly it was like she'd never left. Natasha leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. She was home.

They spent the remainder of the day wandering in and out of shops. Natasha told them about Italy, leaving out anything unpleasant. Finally Colin slipped between the two girls and placed an arm about their shoulders. "As lovely as this has been, ladies, I think I might shoot myself if we go into one more shoe store."

At the end of the day Colin helped Natasha carry her shopping bags and luggage into the spacious loft apartment.

Natasha flicked on the lights. Everything was exactly as she had left it. She took a deep breath and went to one of the tall windows and looked out. Life had gone on without her here. Everything was the same.

Colin set the bags down by the door and came to her side. Taking her hand he turned her to face him. "Tash," he began, his eyes searching her face. "Something's up. I can tell. What happened in Italy? Is there anything I can do?"

Natasha smiled at him. He was so sweet. They hadn't dated in nearly two years and been friends nearly their whole lives, but he was still worried about her. He still cared. She sighed and caught her lip between her teeth. She looked at the floor.

"Natasha," he took her chin in his hand and gently lifted face her to look at him. "You know you can come to me for anything, right?"

Natasha smiled genuinely. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "I know, Colin. Thanks, but I'm fine."

He looked at her, his expression unsure. Then he shrugged. "Okay, but call us at home if you need anything."

"Sure." She walked him to the door, closing it and bolting it behind him.

Alone now, she looked around her apartment. Home sweet home, she thought. But somehow it didn't feel quite like home anymore.

***

Gianni stepped off the private jet and into the California sun. She was here somewhere. She wasn't dead. She was alive. For the hundredth time in the past few hours he wondered what he was doing here. She'd made it perfectly clear that she was done with him. He'd hurt her.

Gianni grimaced. He had to try. She had loved him once. He was sure of it. Perhaps she still loved him. He grasped at that tiny thread of hope.

Little did he know, he was not the only one arriving in Los Angeles looking for Natasha James.

***

She was in the claw-footed tub again. The water was rising around her face. She couldn't move, couldn't scream.

And then the water was covering her face. She couldn't breath. She could only look up through the water. And standing over the tank was Luca Angiolini. Her lungs were near to bursting. Luca blew her a kiss and then she slipped away.

Natasha sat up with a scream. It took her a moment to realize where she was. Her breath was still quick as though she had truly been drowning. She ran a trembling hand through her tangled locks. Exhaling in a rush of air, she flopped back against her pillows.

Suddenly there was a pounding on the door downstairs. Natasha let out a small shriek and sat straight up in bed. There was silence.

Breathing rapidly, he slowly slipped out of bed and paused at the top of the small spiral staircase that descended into the larger living space. Silently she padded down the stairs and went to the door. She put her eye to the peephole and saw nothing but darkness. The hallway was always lighted. Someone had their hand over the hole.

She could feel a presence on the other side of the door. Listening, waiting for her to make some small noise that would verify that she was indeed home.

As the pounding came again she backpedaled and raced to the phone in the kitchen. She dialed 911.

"911," came the female operator's voice, "What's your emergency?"

"Someone's trying to break into my apartment." Natasha gasped. She flinched as there was a blow on her door.

"What's your address ma'am?"

Natasha told her. Her heart was hammering painfully in her chest and she wanted to scream.

"Now honey," she operator said soothingly, "I need you to get yourself into a room and lock yourself in. Don't open the door for anyone until the police get there. I'm gonna stay on the line."

Natasha raced the bathroom huddled there. The pounding had stopped. The operator was still on the line when a lighter knocking came.

"Miss James?" a voice called. "This is LAPD. Will you open the door?"

She didn't move.

"Miss James?" the voice was louder this time. "Miss James, this is LAPD. Are you alright?"

Natasha hesitated. She slowly came to her feet and cautiously opened the bathroom door. It was then that the front door of the apartment burst open.

Natasha ducked back into the bathroom with a startled scream, slamming the door behind her and locking it.

"Miss James?" a voice called from outside the bathroom door. "My name is Lieutenant Murphy. Are you alright?"

"How do I know you're a real cop?" Natasha challenged from the other side of the door.

"I'm going to slide my badge under the door." He told her coaxingly.

Natasha bent and picked up the badge as it was slipped under the door. Convinced of its authenticity Natasha opened the door to a host of armed police officers.

Lieutenant Murphy was about forty, a seasoned veteran. The girl that opened the door looked terrified. She was a looker, no older than twenty-two or so. Her dark hair fell wildly about her shoulders, her cheeks were flushed. The negligee she was wearing left little to the imagination.

Murphy met her gaze determinedly. "Are you alright ma'am?"

She crossed her arms over her chest and nodded. He stepped aside and she walked by him toward the living space. He and his rookie partner, deputy Rawlins, followed.

Even though it made him feel like a lascivious old man, Murphy enjoyed the view of as she led them to the living room. The other officers began milling around the apartment checking windows. Others were examining a large dent in the door.

She grabbed a robe from the back of the couch and slipped it on. Murphy tore his eyes away momentarily, deciding he had used up his allotted quota of dirty old man thoughts for the week, and instead took a seat in a chair across from the couch, Rawlins took another.

Natasha sat on the couch. The young woman ran a trembling hand through her hair and met his gaze. "Did you find him?"

Murphy leaned forward and clasped his hands between his knees. "No, we didn't. There was no one there. But there was a sizable dent in your door." His gaze was intense. "Do you have any idea who it could be?"

Natasha's worst fears ran through her mind. Luca? Alejandro? "No." she shook her head.

Murphy watched the play of emotions across her pretty face. Years of experience told him that she was lying. But why? Was she in some sort of trouble?

The Lieutenant looked thoughtful. "Perhaps you should call someone."

A look of panic crossed her face. Her pretty face collapsed as she tried desperately not to start crying.

"A family member?" Murphy ventured gently, "Friend? We broke you door coming in. You shouldn't stay here tonight."

Natasha nodded absently and went back to the bathroom to retrieve the phone. With trembling fingers she dialed Lacey's number.

After ten rings Natasha was about to hang up when a deep voice vibrated across the phone lines. "Colin." He sounded somewhere between angry and groggy. He must have been asleep. That surprised Natasha since she had been expecting Lacey to pick up. Lacey and her brother shared a luxurious beach house across town.

"Colin, it's Tasha. I'm sorry I woke you." Her voice was trembling. "Is Lacey there?"

Colin sighed. "Natasha, it's three in the morning. Lacey is asleep. Is everything alright?"

She sniffed and he could tell she was holding the phone away while she cleared her throat. Natasha swallowed. "Not really..."

He was alert now. "What's wrong?"

A sob escaped her and tore across the phone lines to wrap itself around his throat, making it constrict painfully. "Um...someone tried to break into my apartment. The police are here."

Colin sat up in bed immediately. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Natasha answered. "It's just that my door is broken and..."

"I'll be right over." And then he was gone.

Natasha put the phone down and returned to the living room. The two cops were still sitting. Lieutenant looked up at her expectantly.

"A friend of mine is on the way."

Murphy nodded and stood. "We'll wait outside the door until they come so you can get some things together."

"Thanks."

Natasha packed a small overnight bag and toiletries. She didn't even realize she was crying as she did so. Her life was a mess.

She heard the chime of the doorbell as if it were coming from some distant planet. It sounded so far away and alien that it actually frightened her for a minute.

Natasha went to the door. It seemed as if it took her several minutes to cross her small living room and reach her front door. Choking back a sob, she wondered how much more of this she could take.

As she opened the door she blinked in a somewhat vain attempt to clear the veil of tears from her eyes, and Colin came into focus, concern etched across his handsome features.

Lieutenant Murphy and Deputy Rawlins were behind him. He nodded to Natasha and handed her his card. "Call me if you need anything." He patted Colin's shoulder. "Take care of her. And don't let her stay here alone."

"Right," Colin answered absently. He was focused on Natasha.

At this moment, Natasha wasn't at all sure how she felt about him, she just knew that she wanted someone, anyone, to hold her, to lie to her and tell her it was going to be all right. Forcing the corners of her lips to lift in what she hoped was a semblance of a smile, she commanded her voice to be light. "Colin, listen, I'm sorry about calling so late but..."

Her voice was hoarse and her words rasped from her throat. Shrugging, her smile slipped even further as she stepped back and motioned for him to enter her apartment.

He stepped in just far enough to push the door closed behind him when wordless, he swept Natasha into his arms and carried her to the couch where he sat with her in his lap.

She squeaked a tiny protest as her feet left the ground but when she felt his muscular arms wrap around her, his strength enough to carry her—she fell silent.

Wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, she tucked her head beneath his chin and gave in to the maelstrom of emotion that skittered through her chest. She thought she had cried herself out at the Villa, then again on the plane, but she cried now like she had never cried before. Great sobs swelled her chest and tore their way through her throat, dragging wave upon wave of mind-numbing pain with them. She was sick to death of crying.

Colin felt helpless. Her pain was tearing him apart and he wanted desperately to ease her pain. Each heaving sob that escaped her lips tore at him. He wanted to defend her, to tear apart whoever had caused her such distress. He wanted to destroy anything, or anyone, who brought her grief. He rocked her in his arms.

After what seemed like hours, but logic told him was only a few short minutes, her sobs subsided. She coughed, hiccupped a few times, then, putting her hand beneath her running nose, pulled back from him. She blushed when she saw his shirt. It was soaked.

"Sorry," she mumbled in embarrassment.

"Screw it," Colin said softly. He brushed the hair back from her face. "How are you?"

She shrugged and lay her head against his shoulder. "I've been better."

He grew serious. "Natasha," he said, "I want to know what's going on. And don't tell me it's nothing. I know you too well. Tell me what happened to you."

She closed her eyes.

"Natasha, how was Italy?" he ventured.

She sat up and looked into his concerned blue eyes. "I died in Italy.

***

"Holy shit, Tasha," Colin cursed as he opened the door of the Range Rover for her. "Why didn't you come home with us in the first place?"

Natasha shrugged. "I don't want to bother anyone and besides, how was I supposed to know this was going to happen?"

Colin fixed her with an intent gaze. "You're never a bother, Natasha." He said softly before closing the door and getting in himself.

They drove in silence the short distance to the pricey beach house that he shared with his sister. Colin called Lacey and explained on the drive over.

When the SUV pulled up the front door immediately opened and Lacey came striding out. The front door immediately opened and Lacey came striding out. Natasha stepped out of the truck warily. Lacey seized her in a rib cracking hug.

"Hi, Lacey," Natasha managed to wheeze.

Lacey pulled back and frowned back at her. "What the hell, Natasha? What did you think you were doing staying all by yourself? I mean really, Tasha. You should have come home with us."

Natasha shrugged. "So I've been told."

Colin grabbed her bags. "You can stay in your old room."

Natasha followed him into one of the guest rooms. Colin placed her bags just inside the door. She looked around. Nothing had changed. The room was exactly as it had been the last time she had stayed there. It was just after her father had died and Natasha was still trying to get her life together. She went to the bedside table and picked up the picture frame that nested there. Her own smiling face looked back at her along with Lacey and Colin.

She placed it replaced it gently and turned to find Colin and Lacey standing in the door way.

"Just like old times right?" Lacey, grinned. Natasha returned the smile. Lacey shrugged and yawned. "I'm beat. You know where to find me." And she turned and left.

Colin leaned against the doorframe. "You okay, Tash? I mean, really okay?" His light blue eyes were concerned.

Natasha tried to give him a reassuring smile. "I'll be fine. I promise."

He came to stand over her. "If you need anything—"

"I'll be fine, Cols." She sighed, using her old nickname for him.

A smile curved on his lips. "Alright. I'll leave you alone." He dropped a quick kiss the top of her head before leaving the room, closing the door with a soft click behind him.

Natasha exhaled slowly. She kicked off her jeans before sliding between the sheets. The Egyptian cotton felt amazing. She thought about the incident back at her apartment and shuddered. But she would be safe here, she consoled herself. And she wasn't alone anymore. Lacey and Colin were just a couple doors away.

She snuggled down into the down comforter and slowly fell into a fitful sleep.

***

Natasha awoke feeling disoriented and confused. It seemed as though she'd been waking up in a new bed every couple of days recently. She smiled to herself though as the room came into focus. This was home. With Lacey, and Colin, she was home. She sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed.

Sunlight streamed in through the French doors. She padded over to the doors and drew aside the sheer curtains. It was a gorgeous day in Orange County. The sky was high and blue with only a few spare wisps of clouds floating on the horizon. The ocean was a deep brilliant shade of indigo. She glanced down the coastline at the million dollar homes that dotted the scenery. Yes, she was definitely home.