Rallenti Page 15

  “Come here!” He charged at her.

  Kyra screamed for help. She screamed to the top of her lungs and ran. The icy sidewalk was too much for her to manage and she slipped, going down hard. Cezar was on her in an instant. His arm circled her throat and his gun was put to her temple. “Scream again, you evil bitch, and I’ll do it.”

  Weeping she nodded. He began to drag her up to her feet.

  “Please, Cezar… don’t do this!”

  ***

  Renaldo slammed on his breaks. He sat at the traffic light. The wipers on his windows went left to right in a slow swish back and forth over the glass. The pasty little flakes drifting from the sky landed and were swept away. He gripped the steering wheel.

  A horn honked.

  His gaze lifted again to the green traffic light swaying above. Despite all sensibility and the time he was losing he hit the switch to change lanes and made a U-turn in the street. The wheels on his car locked and he slid into a full spin. Renaldo corrected the turn and avoided crashing into the cars parked along the side of the road. Determined, he corrected the wheel and spun off back towards her apartment building. He didn’t know how or why but he would find a way to keep his shoe maker in his life. He was due some time off. And maybe he’d speak to Donna Mirabella about Kyra moving to her company in Italy. Yes. If she moved to Italy he’d see her, know her, woo her, make her his. The tension in his chest subsided a degree. He wouldn’t feel at ease until he told her what was in his heart.

  ***

  “Let me go, please!” she struggled.

  Cezar was tall but not very strong. He fought to keep hold of her and remain standing. She knew his intention was to drag her to his car, but the snow and ice became his undoing. Together they fell backwards with her landing on top. The gun was knocked from his hand. Kyra scrambled for it but Cezar grabbed her hair. She howled in pain. And then he hit her. At first the blow was so crushingly severe she thought she was shot. She turned to escape him and he hit her again. This time she saw he was using a weapon. He wielded something hard as steel. It was the butt of the gun he clubbed her with. Blood sprayed from her nose and mouth. Kyra gagged. Fearing another blow would kill her, she put up her hands in defense.

  And the attack stopped. She blinked up to see someone lifting and throwing Cezar off her. Kyra tried to crawl away, use the reprieve to get back to her door. And then she heard it. Two consecutive gun shots. Kyra screamed. A man in a long coat that flapped out behind him in the wind fired a gun into another man who lay in a fetal position on the sidewalk. Horrified she crawled faster. The blood. Oh God the blood! She dripped blood from her face, swallowed it in her mouth. And her head felt numb and heavy as if someone was slowly drawing down the curtain on her consciousness. He’ll kill me! Please God I don’t want to die. Please! She collapsed in the snow, her face sunk into icy mush. Her lids fluttered as someone’s hands went on her. She heard Italian. Words. Faint, but familiar she heard them.

  Everything went dark.

  Five minutes earlier –

  Renaldo peered out of his window. His view of the street was partially impaired from the advancing frost over the pane. However, the scene on the snow-covered lawn of Kyra’s building was unmistakable. A man dragged a woman and he had a gun. Renaldo swerved up on the sidewalk and threw the gearshift up into park. He was out of his car and running for them both. It took only moments to realize the woman in distress was Kyra. And when they fell and her attacker started to beat her with his gun, Renaldo’s rage consumed him. For reasons he couldn’t explain the man attacking Kyra never saw him coming. It gave him a needed advantage. Renaldo grabbed the coward before he dealt what looked like a fatal blow to his beloved and threw him several feet. Enraged he began to stomp the man and kick him in the face and gut. It was only then he saw the gun had been cast aside. He forgot to pull his own. There was no time for rational thought.

  The gun was in Renaldo’s hand.

  He fired.

  He fired again and the gun jammed. The unlucky bastard was already dead. With no regard for consequence he tossed the weapon and went for Kyra. There was so much blood on her face he nearly dropped to his knees. Renaldo swept her up in his arms. He carried her to the car and put her inside gently. The lights to the front of the building were flashing on. A person who looked to be an older black woman ran out of the front door screaming at him.

  “Where are you taking her? Kyra! Kyra!” the woman shouted and she wielded a bat.

  “Ospedale,” Renaldo answered.

  The woman glanced to the bleeding man on the sidewalk and then to Renaldo. She raced toward Renaldo and Kyra instead of away. “I’ll show you where it is!” she said without raising the bat in a threatening manner. “I saw you shoot him, save my Kyra! Oh lord! Kyra, baby, are you okay? Oh my God! Oh Kyra!” the woman wailed as she got in the backseat. Renaldo closed the door and got behind the wheel. A chorus of sirens approached less than a block away. Renaldo ignored the threat of being captured for his crimes and sped fast out of the neighborhood. He glanced to the rearview mirror to see the woman cradling an unconscious Kyra in her arms.

  “Turn left at the third light and then go two miles. You will see the hospital on your right!” she said.

  He did as she advised. Silently he prayed as the woman wailed in the backseat that Kyra was okay. When he saw the red Emergency sign on the next street and wheeled up the drive, he finally felt his heart stabilize. The woman was out of the car and she ran inside. Renaldo’s sole focus was Kyra. He opened the back car door and pulled her unconscious body out into his arms. The hospital staff arrived with a rolling gurney and she was taken from him. Her blood on his hands, his coat, and his shirt, he nearly fought back to keep her. He followed the staff, but the woman who led him there stopped him.

  “I’m Jamie. Her friend. You’re Renaldo, right? She told me about you. I’ll take care of her. You have to go, honey!”

  “No!” he said and pushed the woman aside.

  She grabbed his arm. “You don’t understand. I saw you, so did others at the building. You shot Cezar, the boy’s dead. You saved her life but if you stay you are going to jail. And how can you help her from there? Capice? Now go!” Jamie said.

  Renaldo hesitated. If he were put in jail it would bring the Battaglia family shame and issues with the authorities. “I’m at the Waldorf. There will be a number to reach me. Please call. As soon as you know more.”

  “Go!” she shoved him.

  With no other choice he stepped back. What if she didn’t make it? Could he really walk away? What choice did he have? He’d have to see Dominic and inform him of his actions. He needed help.

  “Go!” Jamie shooed him again.

  He backed away and got behind the wheel of his car. Before he pulled away Jamie was back inside. All hope was lost.

  ***

  Eight hours later –

  Kyra felt as if her face was on fire. Her head felt as if it was swollen to the size of a watermelon. It was so heavy she couldn’t turn or lift it from her pillow.

  “Hi, sweetheart, it’s Mama,” she heard a voice. Meek with fear, it sounded like her mother. Kyra’s gaze dropped over to her left. Her mother’s face came into focus. She looked as if she’d been crying.

  Kyra tried to move her hand. Thankfully she felt her fingers move. When she tried to move her toes she registered feeling in her feet as well. “Ma?”

  “Yes! Yes! It’s Mama,” her mother wept. She picked up her hand and kissed it. Her father stepped from behind her mother and smiled down at her. He was a tall serious man, and in her life she’d never seen him weep or look uncertain. His face was etched in pain. His eyes glistened with tears.

  “We have been so worried,” her father said.

  “Where?” she closed her eyes as a monstrous bolt of pain hit her in the skull. The aftershocks made every muscle in her body rigid and she began to grit her teeth. She heard her mother yell for someone to come. Then darkness returned and her suffering ended.
r />   ***

  The Next Day –

  Kyra opened her eyes. The room was dark. She stared up at the ceiling confused as to who she was, where she was, or why she was in bed. Slowly coherent thoughts began to meld. She turned her head and it didn’t take much effort. Her mother was asleep in a wheeled in bed. Her father slept in a chair. Both of her older sisters were in the room. They slept together on opposite ends of a sofa with a shared blanket between them. The vigil began to make sense.

  She was attacked.

  Kyra remembered running outside in the snow. She wanted to stop Renaldo from leaving. And then Cezar showed up. Her body began to shake as the trauma flashed in her mind with acute vivid recall. Fighting. Screaming. Begging. Being hit. Pain. Gunshots.

  Kyra nearly sat upright in bed. “I’m shot!” she cried out.

  Her mother stirred awake. She was the only one who slept as light as a bird. She sat up and focused in the dark. “Kyra baby? Mama’s here.”

  “Ma? I’m shot?” she wept, shaking with fear.

  “No. No, sweetheart. You were attacked.” Her mother scrambled from the bed. Her sisters stirred and her father last. She had woken the room. It was her mother who came to her side. “Oh sweetheart, you weren’t shot. You’re okay. You’re safe. Oh my baby.” Her mother hugged her. Kyra clung to her, weeping into her breast.

  “He was going to kill me,” she wept.

  “It’s over, Kyra. It’s okay. You’ve been out of it for four days.”

  “Four days?” Kyra stopped crying. She didn’t understand. To her it felt as if only a day or two had passed.

  Her mother stroked her. “The doctors said there was bleeding and swelling on your brain. They thought they’d have to operate. Thank God they didn’t. We feared the worst. But you opened your eyes two days ago and I knew God was great. He’d protect you. You had a seizure. But you’re better now, baby. Much better!” her mother said. “I’m so sorry, Kyra baby, I should have never left you to live alone. It was my fault for being so hard on you.”

  “Ma. No. It wasn’t. None of this was your fault. Please don’t blame yourself.” She looked to her father, her sisters were at his side. “I’m okay now. I am.” She tried to reassure them. Her mother let her go and Doe came over to her. She hugged her sister tight. They couldn’t let each other go. “It was Cezar,” she said as she pieced the incident together. No one seemed surprised by her announcement.

  “He’s dead, Keek,” Doe replied. “Someone killed him. A stranger. The police are hunting for the shooter. Your friend Jamie has been here every day. She’s helping the police. She convinced the stranger to drop you off to the hospital but he fled afterwards.”

  “Stranger?” Kyra frowned.

  “More like a hero,” her father spoke up. “The witnesses said that boy would have killed you if the man hadn’t arrived.”

  The news made no sense to Kyra. Who was the man that helped her? She didn’t recall seeing anyone but Cezar. “Where is Jamie? Can you call her to come and see me?”

  “We have to call the police.” Her father spoke. “They asked that we call them the moment you woke up.”

  “Why?” Kyra asked.

  “They want to talk to you.”

  “I’m not ready. I just want to see Jamie,” Kyra said.

  “There’s something else, Kyra,” her mother stroked the top of her head. “A man who wants to see you.”

  “Renaldo?” she asked. The hope and surprise in her voice made her parents exchange a curious glance with each other.

  “No, sweetheart. His name is Dominic Battaglia. He wants to pay all of your medical expenses. He’s been very generous.” Her mother glanced over to the beautiful blue roses that filled several vases. Kyra had never seen blue flowers before. Let alone roses. They caught her breath at the mere sight of them.

  “He brought those?” she asked. Wondering if the flowers were from Renaldo instead.

  “Yes,” her sister answered.

  “I think…” Kyra winced. Her mother soothed her discomfort and then she spoke again.

  “Relax. Doe, get her some water,” her mother said. Her sister hurried away.

  “The man, he owns the company you work for? He’s your boss?” her father asked.

  “I think so,” she guessed. They said his last name was Battaglia so it was possible that he worked with Mirabella in some capacity. What Kyra wanted to know desperately was why Renaldo hadn’t reached out to her instead.

  “He asked your father to call him personally when you woke. He wants to see you. He made it clear that he wants to help. He arrived with two men who looked… your father didn’t get a good vibe from them. We told the police.”

  “What?” Kyra blinked at her family. “Why did you tell the police?”

  “They wanted to know about anyone who has visited you. Kyra, sweetheart we didn’t know what to make of these people,” her mother reasoned and her father nodded his head in agreement.

  “I want to see him. Can you call him for me? And Jamie? Please, Mama, it’s important.”

  “Yes, baby,” her mother smiled.

  Kyra relaxed. By nature her parents were very cautious people. If Renaldo was the one who saved her then things may not be good for him with the Battaglias. Either way she had to know the truth about what happened that night. Dominic Battaglia may have the answers.

  ***

  The next day Kyra underwent a battery of tests. They poked and prodded her everywhere. She endured the exams, hopeful that soon the doctors would say she was well enough to get out of the hospital. Her nurse was named Mary and very sweet. She spoke about her grandchildren and her daughter in-law who she swore looked like Kyra. Through it all Kyra smiled and nodded. Her thoughts constantly drifted to Renaldo. Where was he? Did he return to Italy or stay in America? Were the police out searching the streets for him? Even now she couldn’t recall if it was him that saved her life. But deep inside she knew the truth.

  Kyra was wheeled back into her room, and to her surprise a man waited for her. He was strikingly handsome. He was possibly the same age as Renaldo. He wore a dark wool trench coat over a tailored dark suit. He nodded his head in respect when the nurse wheeled her inside. “Your mother and father are meeting with the doctors. They granted me this visit with you, signorina Kyra. My name is Dominic Battaglia.”

  “I know who you are,” she answered. The nurse helped her stand from the wheel chair and walked her over to the bed. Without the assistance she would have dropped to her knees. Her limbs felt so weak. But the doctors said moving a bit would help.

  Dominic observed her in silence. He waited until the nurse fixed her sheets and then wheeled the chair out of the room before he spoke again. “Please accept my family’s deepest sympathies for your accident. Donna Mirabella sends her personal wish that you recover quickly.”

  “Donna?”

  Dominic smiled. “It means lady, in Italian. It’s a term of respect when referencing her.” He stepped to the bed. “I’ve spoken to your parents. They say you will recover. Fully!”

  “I want to see Renaldo,” she blurted. “Where is he? Does he know I’m here?”

  Dominic stared at her.

  “Please. Whatever happened that night he didn’t do anything wrong. I think he saved my life. That’s why I told my parents to not call the police on your family. I just want to talk to him.”

  “Unfortunately that won’t be possible. I have sent Renaldo back to Sorrento.”

  “What?” Kyra gasped.

  Dominic gave her a patient smile. “For his safety. The laws here in America are quite different than the ones at home. His act of chivalry could be taken as an act of murder. I am impressed with you, Kyra. That you were brave enough to protect him.”

  “Can I talk to him?” Kyra asked.

  “I have an offer for you instead,” Dominic said.

  “Offer?”

  “Yes,” Dominic stepped closer to the bed. He had the kindest amber brown eyes. They were cast under a dark
ring of lashes and a half-lidded stare. Sleepy-eyes are what came to mind, but sensual in the way they matched his soothing voice. “Catalina tells me you are quite the talent. You make shoes?”

  “Yes, I make them.”

  “And you wanted to move to Paris to make them for Mirabella’s?” he asked.

  “I interviewed for a job but didn’t get it,” she said.

  “Consider the job yours. The Donna insists. We will cover your expenses to move and give you a year’s salary in advance to ensure you adjust. When you are well the attorneys will contact you for an employment contract and help you with your work visa.” Dominic picked up his scarf he had dropped over the chair. He tied it into a knot around his neck.

  “There are two of us. My partner. Her name is Jamie Collins. She’s a designer too. I ah. This is awkward. But I have to ask. Is it possible that she too can work for Mirabella’s?” Kyra asked. It wasn’t the best way to introduce Jamie to the Battaglias but she had the sense that they were negotiating for something Dominic Battaglia wanted in return.

  “Renaldo mentioned Jamie. She was with him when they brought you in,” Dominic said.

  “Yes! And she’s really loyal to me. She is very trustworthy.”

  “I’ve spoken to Jamie,” Dominic said, his warm stare now piercing. Kyra wasn’t sure what he meant by that so she kept silent. He continued. “If she wishes a job she too can have one. I’ll inform the attorneys. They’ll make an offer.”

  “What about my request to call Renaldo?” she asked.

  “He sends his regrets that he could not be here with you. And if you wish to see him again, you will,” Dominic smiled. He removed a card and handed it to her. Kyra reached for it but Dominic held to it, which forced her to look back up into his eyes. “There is only one favor the family asks of you, Kyra.”

  “Yes?”