Chapter Six

Stefano

“Food’s almost ready,” Barry called from within the house.

“Another barbecue?”

“Yup.”

When the response came floating back, Stefano rose from his seat on the balcony. Every afternoon since his arrival, except for that first day, Barry had cooked. The man literally worked the grill like the captain of a ship.

Stefano took a last look at the sparkling water. Had it only been five days since he’d arrived? Patting his pockets, he remembered he didn’t have his phone. With still no word from Rossi that morning, he had tossed his phone on his dresser and walked out of his room.

Rubbing at his growling stomach, Stefano stepped into the living room and made his way through to the bright kitchen. From there, he walked out onto another patio.

Barry pointed a spatula at him and then at the table. “Pour me one of those margaritas, will ya?”

He dutifully lifted a glass and the full pitcher of drink.

“Make one for yourself, too.”

He almost said no, but with the happy smile on Barry’s face, he thought, why the hell not?

Carrying both glasses, he approached Barry and handed him one before moving to the railing. Instead of facing the sea like the other balcony did, from this side, he could see miles down the white sandy beach.

“So…going to tell me what happened?” Barry asked behind him.

They really hadn’t had a chance to talk, what with Barry working during the day and Camilla and her grandson there in the evenings. Stefano glanced around for them.

“Don’t worry about being overheard. Camilla ran into town and took Mark with her.”

Stefano put the hard railing at his back and leaned against it while sipping the cold drink. “Rossi and I moved in together a few years ago.”

“You did?” Barry tossed him a quick, surprised look before he turned back to poke at the steak.

“Yeah. We bought a beautiful home, too.” He took another quick sip.

“Then what? You’re not happy with him?”

“No. I was happy. Elated, really.”

“Well, what happened?”

“He kept our moving in together a fucking secret.”

“From everybody?”

“Well, no, not everybody. But over half of them. Hell, most of them don’t even know we are in a relationship. It’s like I have to constantly remember whom I’m talking to in order not to let slip our secret. It pissed me off.”

The anger came out in his voice, but screw it. The longer he stewed about it, plus the longer Rossi went without reaching out, the more bitter he became.

“Are you kidding me?” Barry’s mouth dropped open and his brow wrinkled.

“Nope.” He took another swallow from the glass and then thought, fuck it, and downed the whole thing. Instant pain shot into his head. “Ah, fuck! Brain freeze.” He placed the glass down and put a hand on his head.

Barry’s laughter rang out and before he could glare at his friend, the man lifted a plate of cheese and crackers from the table and held it out. “Eat one of these, it’ll help.”

Snatching up a cracker with a small chunk of cheese, Stefano chewed and swallowed. The pain eased.

Barry put the plate down and poured him another glass and held it out to him. “Slowly.”

He took the glass with a nod and Barry went back to the barbecue. “Have you talked to him?”

“No.”

“Ah, not taking his calls, huh?”

“He hasn’t called me.”

“Wait…” Barry dumped the steaks onto a plate and turned from the grill. “You mean, like… he hasn’t called you today?”

“No, I mean, like not since I left.”

“Well, that’s fucked up. You want me to call him?”

“No…” He looked away from the concerned look in his friend’s eyes. “He doesn’t know where I am.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“No, I mean you seriously think that Giovanni Rossi doesn’t know where you are?” Barry’s voice was skeptical.

“I didn’t tell him.”

“Did you turn off your GPS?”

He stared blankly at Barry for a full ten seconds and his friend laughed.

“Forgot, huh?” Barry smirked and placed the plate with the steak on the small patio table before pulling off the lid to a bowl of potato salad.

“Um, yeah.” He took a cautious sip from his glass before sinking into the chair opposite Barry. How the hell had he forgotten to turn off the tracker on his phone? He knew how expert Phoenix was at locating people. Hell, they employed one of the best trackers in the world. Maybe, just maybe in his heart, he thought that Rossi would come.

Fat chance of that.Rossi wasn’t coming…was he? Stefano glanced toward the shore as if expecting Rossi to be walking down the beach, but there was no familiar form. Except for a few people he’d seen earlier, it was relatively empty.

“Eat.” Barry plopped a few spoonfuls of potato salad on his plate and then slid a steak onto it.

“Well, I guess that answers that.”

“Answers what?” Barry inquired around a bite of food.

“That we’re over,” he grumbled, and poked at the potato salad, suddenly losing his appetite.

“We’ll see.”

He shot Barry a look, to which the man huffed and gestured to his plate. “Eat up.”

Later that evening, Stefano wandered back to the oceanside balcony along with Barry. Camilla had returned and gone up to her room while Mark played video games in his room. The sun was sinking into the water and the view was breathtaking.

“I’ll never tire of this.” He waved a hand at the sunset.

Barry made a sound of agreement. “But not the heat, huh?”

“No.” Stefano tugged his damp shirt away from his chest and fanned it a bit. “Not the heat.”

Voices down the beach drew both his and Barry’s attention. Was that Mark? Stefano stood and moved to the railing and put a hand against his forehead to shade his eyes from the remaining sun. Sure enough, Mark was down there with a few of the other kids, and so was Kyle Dresor.

“You know he’s up to no good, right?” Stefano turned back to Barry.

“Yeah.” Barry’s mouth flattened and he took a hasty swallow of his drink. “I’ve had my run-ins with him. But honestly? I steer clear.”

Stefano studied his friend.

“What? I don’t have any Special Forces skills and the cops here aren’t going to do shit.” Barry looked guiltily away and then back.

Stefano turned abruptly toward the stairs to the beach.

“Shit,” Barry muttered, and the man’s chair scraped as he scrambled to his feet to follow him.

Stefano didn’t wait. When he reached the beach, he headed in the direction of Kyle Dresor and the teenagers. When he reached them, he shouldered the kids aside and stalked up to Dresor. The man hastily stuck something into the pocket of his perfectly pressed, white linen pants.

“What?” Dresor’s expression was thunderous.

“Leave the kids alone. Go sell your fucking drugs somewhere else.” Stefano didn’t usually mince words, and he wasn’t going to start now just because this guy thought he was above the law.

“What are you going to do about it, old man?”

Okay, that was fair, he had about twenty years on the guy. He’d turned forty-nine in April and Dresor looked to be in his thirties.

Dresor tried to shove past him and Stefano caught him by the arm and applied pressure to the man’s wrist. Doubling back on that, he took Dresor to his knees in the sand.

The teenagers’ faces filled with disbelief and shock.

“Ah!” Dresor yelled.

Stefano waited until the drug dealer looked up at him before he bent down and looked directly into the guy’s face. “Leave the kids alone. Go play with people your own age.”

With his last words, he squeezed and then released Dresor’s hand with a snap. Dresor fell sideways holding his wrist before scrambling up and stumbling away from them.

“Let’s go,” Barry told the teenagers. “You all have homes. Don’t make me call your parents.”

The teenagers took one last look at Stefano and then ran like hell down the beach. Even Mark ran to the house and up the stairs.

“You’re fucking dead!” Dresor shouted from a safe spot down the beach. “You hear me? Fucking dead!”

“Go on,” Stefano called across the distance. “Get.”

Barry stepped up beside him and they both watched Dresor disappear down the beach.

“My friend, you have a death wish.”

“Nah, sounds like he’s just full of hot air,” Stefano smirked.