Power (Special Tactical Units Division 1)

“Alessandra. What’s the matter? Come on. That’s what big brothers are for, remember? Little sisters are supposed to tell them their troubles.”

She laughed, just as she knew he hoped she would, but, dammit, her laugh didn’t fool him, not for a second.

“Hell,” he muttered. He waltzed her across the room, out the open patio doors and into the moonlit garden where he stopped dancing, clasped her shoulders and looked down into her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Her voice wobbled.

Travis pulled a pristine white handkerchief from the breast pocket of his jacket and handed it to her. “Go on. Cry. Blow your nose. Then tell me what’s going on.”

I told you, nothing’s…” She bit back a sob. “I thought I’d hear from him.”

“From who?” Travis sounded baffled. “My pal in Silicon Valley? Chay Olivieri?”

“Tanner Akecheta. The lieutenant. I know it was silly, but I thought—I thought—”

“Alessandra.” Travis hesitated. “Look, I don’t know what happened between the two of you…”

“Nothing happened,” Alessandra said, and began to weep.

Travis ran a hand through his dark hair.

“Man. See, I’m not very good at this…”

“No. Obviously, neither am I.” Alessandra wiped her eyes. “I mean, maybe I said more than I should have in that note. Or maybe I didn’t say enough. Either way, he could have answered. Just a couple of words. I know he shipped out right away, but… What?”

“What note? To whom? Who shipped out?”

“Tanner. I wrote to him as soon as I could. His commanding officer hand-delivered it, well, our father gave it to him and to hand-deliver, but Tanner was shipping out and he never replied and I thought—I really thought, if he’d just taken a minute—”

The expression on Travis’s face stopped her in midsentence. He had gone tight-lipped. It was a look she’d seen before. All the Wilde and Bellini men got that look when they were angry.

“Let me get this straight. You wrote a note to the lieutenant, gave it to the general, and he gave it to the lieutenant’s CO, who gave it to the lieutenant.”

“Yes.”

“And you know this, how?”

“Father told me. The commanding officer at Camp Condor gave Tanner my note. Tanner was being shipped out, but he—he sent me his best wishes…”

“Fuck!”

“Travis?”

“I’m sorry, Alessandra. Jesus H. Christ, I’m sorry, but that no-good SOB, that lying bastard…” Travis bent over, put his hands on his thighs, breathed in and then breathed out. “Okay. I’m good. I’m fine. And I apologize for all the cursing, but…” He stood up straight, reached for her hands and held them tightly in his. “He lied.”

“Who?”

“Our father. The general. We should have known that he was incapable of change.”

“What did he lie about?” Alessandra’s voice trembled.

“Everything, probably, but here’s the part that matters. The lieutenant never got a note from you.”

Alessandra swayed. Travis grabbed her, led her to a stone bench and drew her down onto it beside him.

“How do you know that?”

“He kept asking his pal, Chay, if you’d tried to call him while he was in the hospital.”