When The Rain Falls

CHAPTER 18

His knuckles were white and he was breathing heavily. The drive home was not in any way shape or form a comfort. It only fueled his mind because he was left alone with himself. Amelia wanted nothing. She didn't want his money, as confirmed when she shoved his check damn near up his behind until he almost shoved it down her throat. She didn't want his comfort, as exhibited when she shoved him away while screaming to the heavens for her deceased sibling. She didn't want his presence, which she made obvious when she asked him to leave and not stay.

She didn't want his time, his money, his heart, anything he could have given her to make her just stop hurting. She just didn't want any of it, and made it adamantly clear.

He choked at the thought of giving her his heart. Did he really want to give her something that belonged to someone else? The more he thought about it, the more he wondered if Arya truly had it. She had been scarce since the day she left, when Amelia moved out. Sure, she was present. She tried to make time with Ainsley, who rebuffed her in the beginning and then finally let her frustrations boil over. The screaming his daughter had done still bruised his ears, yet the tears his wife had shed did nothing to break his heart. Instead, he shattered when he let Ainsley pack her bags and leave through the front door into Breda's awaiting car. Where his mother stood giving him the most scathing look while Ainsley threw her bags in the back of the car.

He and Arya needed a chat. A long overdue talk. He wanted his daughter back, and if the only way to do it was to have Arya ease her way back into their lives slower than a wrecking ball, she needed to leave. Be reduced to visits, and be forced to help handle the Hell that comes with raising a teenager. She needed to stop pushing him to go back into consulting, as it became clear she mainly wanted him around when Fiona was putting up a fuss, and her ability to handle them lacked completely. He groaned. Fiona was quickly becoming a miniature version of her sister, who she cried for every night.

He didn't want to think anymore when he got home. He just wanted a normal, useless night alone, with his wife and his child. He wanted to forget tonight. He wanted to just go back to his loveless marriage, with his mute child, and the absence of his talkative one. He didn't want to think about how the closest thing to intimacy and connection he had in the past two months was when she allowed him to basically rut her like an animal over a tabletop, then hold her while she cried herself to sleep. And he missed that. So much. Seeing her again was a mistake. It only made him ache for her, but he needed a refresher. Needed to see what color her hair was, and what gems she stuck in her face and ears. Selfishly, he needed to know what to imagine when his wife touched him, because her soft blond hair and lithe form couldn't replace a rainbow and curves anymore.

He pulled into his driveway, expecting to see his wife's expensive Mazzarati. Instead, there was a strange vehicle in her place, parked in front of his house, and the inside lights were still on. He had figured his wife would have gone to sleep by now, Fiona hours before. Pulling into his driveway, he ran to his door and pulled it open quickly, confused that it was unlocked.

When he entered his inner room, he stopped cold in his tracks. Jason Maccone sat on the large settee, tapping his long fingers on top of a manila envelope. As soon as he heard Callen step inside, he stood up and smoothed his coat, staring at the other man.

“Callen,” Jason said. “Thank God you're home. We gotta talk, man.”

Jason didn’t see Callen’s fist swing. He felt it. Grabbing his face, he fell back onto the large seat.

“What the hell are you doing in my f*****g house?” Callen yelled. “Where is my daughter?”

“Arya took her to her mom's! Cal, man, sit down, we gotta talk brother.” Jason leaned against the chair, wincing. He cradled his face and adjusted his jaw. “Dude, do you always greet a guest like this? I heard about Kenny-.”

"Only the unwelcome ones." Callen blew a breath out of his nose. He began to approach Jason with broad steps, his teeth clenched as he spoke. "Why is my wife gone? Where is my daughter?!"

"I said, they're at Irene and Raiberts, for f**k's sake Callen!" Jason shook his head in disbelief. "Do you not f*****g listen, man? I need to talk to you, alone. You guys may be in trouble."

"Trouble? Jason, if your s**t dealings have gotten me wife in trouble-"

"Look, this ain't about Arya, man, for f**k's sake, calm down!" Jason screamed at him. He stood tall and stared down at Callen. "Trust me, if it was I wouldn't be so f*****g worried because, as far as I'm concerned, she can just go f**k herself. Callen, this is about Amelia."

Callen stilled, feeling a chill down his spine. “Speak.” He spat, his fists clenched.

Nodding, Jason moved his jaw, feeling the hematoma form. Wincing, he spat into his hand, watching the blood fall into his palm. Looking up, he snapped "Get me some ice first, asshole. I promise, I won't sue you for this."

"Fussy bastard," Callen growled under his breath. He left the room and Jason sat down on the couch, groaning. A small bag of ice and a town was thrown unceremoniously into his lap. Jason began packing the towel while Callen sat opposite of him. "Talk."

Giving him a glare, Jason grabbed the envelope from the settee. He pulled out some papers and began separating them on the coffee table infront of them, spreading them out like a house of cards. They were riddled with information that made Callen's eyes cross, and he ignored the words until Jason found three photos. He pushed them towards Callen, making the other man pick them up. “Look at these photos, Callen, and tell me. Do you know who these people are?"

Callen peered at the photos, then leaned behind him to turn another lamp on. The photos were at least five, maybe six years old. One was much older. But that same broad nose, those wide almond, deep-set eyes the color of flames, cheekbones that could cut glass and plump lips could never be mistaken. In one, she was with three people, the others he could only assume were her mother and father, and another little boy. Her face covered by thick rimmed glasses, barely a whisper of a smile. It took him a minute to recognize the person he was staring at.

Another, she was with the dead woman he saw earlier, along with a man who had the same features. Almond-shaped eyes set on fire, a strong nose, and a pointed chin. All of them had those strong Italian features. They sat near each other, grinning into the camera.

Finally, the final photo was of an ID. It confused him the most out of everything.

“These are of Amelia. Are these her parents? Her sister and brother?”

Jason nodded. “Well, yeah. They were her family.”

Callen stared at the photos. It was Amelia alright. Plain looking. No smile on her face, and her hair long and straight. No rainbow of curls, no make-up, no big white teeth. He stared at the ID in his hand and brought his face back to Jason. “This can’t possibly be Amelia. This isn’t her name on this.”

"You’re looking at this ass backwards.” Jason took the ID photo and pointed to the information. “Amelia isn’t her name. Amelia Richards doesn’t exist. The woman you know is Raquel Pavano. Her half sister? Sara Singh. And that sack of s**t is her half brother, Marcello Riviera. The heirs to the leading f*****g syndicate of crime in all of the east coast.”

Callen's throat went dry. He struggled to speak. "You mean... Amelia isn't...?"

"No." Jason shook his head. "I need to speak to her. I was hoping she still lived here."

"Amelia left two months ago. I just saw her at work." Callen looked at Jason. "Wait. How do you know her?"

Jason took a deep breath. "I was Sara's best friend. Rocky didn't recognize me. It makes sense because she was really young when we were kids. But I recognized her. You can't mistake those eyes and those lips, man. All the Pavano kids got them."

"Rocky?"

"It was my nickname for Raquel growing up. She was rough and tumble. Super tomboy. Seeing her in a dress damn f*****g near threw me off." Jason picked up the photo of the three siblings, and looked at it fondly. Carefully, he dragged his finger across Sara's face. "They didn't deserve this, Callen. God, they didn't deserve any of this."

Callen's heart ached. Knowing the woman who lived in his home, he knew Jason was right. "How did you figure out it was her?"

"I stole a glass she drank out of at my engagement party, tested the DNA against her dead dad." Jason looked away. "Don't ask how I got his DNA."

Callen closed his eyes and pressed his palm against the back of his head. "You mean I've had a stranger- wait. Jason, who are you?"

Jason stared at him, his eyes cold. "I can explain that later. But I need to know where Amelia is. I need to talk to her, and I need to get ahold of Sara. I know she knows how. Callen, I need to get them safe. Their brother is f*****g insane, man."

Callen looked at Jason, his anger fading into fear. The way Jason gazed at Sara's photo, he knew that look. He held it on his face only twice in his life, for only two women. “Sara.. Sara’s dead. They found her a couple of hours ago.”

Jason went pale. “Sara’s dead? How? What happened? Where’s the baby?”

Callen stared at him, the previously heated rage in his blood turning into ice like fear in his veins, then back to rage. But not to Jason. He swallowed the anxiety and gave him a curt nod. "I'll make coffee. You talk."

-----

“So. We should start with who the hell are you, Jason?”

Callen glared at him from the top of his coffee cup. At one time he hated the younger man sitting before him, nursing an ice pack on his face, his handsome features beginning to swell. He brought his eyes to Callen, and sipped his drink, setting the ice pack on the table.

“I’m exactly who I say I am. Jason Anthony Maccone. Our fathers worked together. Mine owns the main business that mines precious gems and diamonds. I’m taking that business over.” He swallowed another sip. “But my father and I have a difference in opinion. He’s not exactly kosher at doing things overseas. Lots of buyouts and bribes. I don’t agree with that, so I’m trying to make things legit.”

Callen glared at him, completely uninterested. “What happened when you and Arya were in Italy with my girls?”

“Man. That was a f*****g wreck.” Jason sighed, and shook his head slowly. “That’s when Marcello showed up. Rocky's brother. My father had a deal with him, and flaked on it. I told Arya it was a business mess I had to clean up. Told her to take the girls to France or Ireland. She refused and took them home instead, and flew right back over. While she was there, I paid off Marcello and had the bundle shipped back to New York. It was then I cut my ties with him, and thankfully he's only dangerous. Not stupid.”

Shaking, Callen gripped his coffee mug, staring down at the dark liquid. “How in danger were me girls?”

“A lot. Which is why I made Arya take them away.”

It took all his strength not to strangle the man in front of him, not when he needed more information. He had already detached all feelings for his wife now, and those broken threads were being rewoven into rage. “Me girls. Something could have happened to them. If something… happened…”

“Callen, nothing happened.” Jason said sternly. “They’re fine and knew nothing. I made sure of it. That's why I had Arya to give you sole custody of the girls for this very reason, to keep them safe. Did you ever wonder why it was so damn easy to get her to give up on the house, the cars, any alimony? I thought we had a future, and I wanted that future legit and on the understanding that I wasn't my father."

Callen frowned, and narrowed his eyes. "So it was your idea to leave me the girls? And me house?" He shook his head in disbelief. "I had wondered why Arya gave up everything so easily."

Jason nodded solemnly. "Until I completely cut off my father's criminal ties, I don’t want them anywhere near this. I figured once it was all done and overwith, we could ease them back into our lives. I didn't want them to have any part of my family garbage. It'll take me a year to get them all paid off and done, but I'm working on it."

“Don’t expect me to thank you Jason,” Callen replied. “Now. How do you know Amelia?”

Jason shook his head. “Her name isn’t Amelia Richards. It’s Raquel Pavano. You need to get used to calling her that, my man, or I'll start getting confused.”

“The woman lived in my house for almost six months, I’m going to slip and call her for what she told me she was.” Callen looked pained. “I cared for who she said she was, Jason.”

Jason’s face softened. “I know. The Pavano girls, they were always something else. Raquel especially. She was always a good person."

“Just go on.”

He cleared his throat, picking up the photos one by one. Gazing at them, he set down the family and sibling photos in front of Callen, pointing at Amelia's somber face. “She’s the middle child of Matteo Pavano. Sara was her older sister, and Marcello is her younger brother. They all have different moms. Have you heard of the Pavano Empire in New York?" After Callen shook his head, Jason nodded and continued. "Matteo was a f*****g beast, man. The man was a heavy weight in the crime syndicate. He did importing, exporting, anything. Diamonds. Gemstones. Eventually, he got ahead of himself and went to the big game. Animals. Body parts. Eventually, children.”

“Children!?” Callen shouted. “My girls-"

“Callen, I told you!” Jason matched the older man's tone. “They're safe! Do you wanna know what’s going on or not?”

Callen squirmed in his seat, clearly agitated. “Go on.”

“Matteo was a bastard. He didn't do all that s**t for money. He did it for the thrill. He also wanted a son to pass this garbage on to. He didn't see his kids as kids. He saw them as pawns for the future." Jason motioned to the older man in the photo. He was handsome, with the same eyes that Callen remembered gazing into. Except with Amelia, it was a soft, subtle glow, a welcoming warmth . Matteo's eyes appeared to want to set you on fire.

Callen inwardly felt a chill on his spine staring at the old man. "He's dead now, though." He said softly. "Amel... Raquel should be safe from him."

"How he died wasn't great. He was murdered." Jason said, his voice rigid. "In front of Rocky and Lauren."

Callen looked at Jason. "Amelia saw it all?"

"There's a reason she's tough as she is." Jason shook his head. "Matteo and Lauren tried for years for a kid. He got Sara’s mom pregnant when Lauren couldn’t conceive. He had an affair with Shanita, Sara's mom, and promised her a luxury life if she gave him a son. Four years later, Raquel comes along via Lauren, and it was such a f****d up pregnancy that she couldn't have any more kids. Radical hysterectomy. A year after Raquel, he r***d their Spanish maid Isabella. Marcello comes along. Suddenly, he has his male heir and he couldn’t have been happier.” Jake took a drink of his coffee. “I’m going by memory here, okay? So I may mix some s**t up, like their ages. But nothing important.”

“I understand.” Callen grabbed Jason’s mug and went to the kitchen to refresh his drink. “Please don’t stop.”

“s**t went downhill for the girls. Sara was forgotten. He sent checks to Shanita to care for their kid and keep Shanita's mouth shut. She only gave him a routing number and no address. Sara didn't live with Matteo for long, but my dad was close to Shanita, so he let her stay in one of our houses along the water front in East Hampton. When Marcello was born, my dad would take Rocky so she could see her sister when she was old enough. Matteo didn't give much of a s**t when he did. Raquel had to stay in a household where it was obvious she wasn't loved. Her mom tried but was drunk all the time. Isabella basically had her child taken from her, but that was a blessing to be fair. She couldn't love him since he was conceived from her r**e, so she tried to dote on Rocky. But that went to s**t. She wasn’t her kid. Eventually, she booked it back to Spain. Green card revoked.” He took the mug Callen handed him. “Thanks.”

“Assuming Matteo did that.” Callen sat back in his chair, acknowledging Jason's confirming nod. “Go on. I know there’s more.”

“A lot more. Marcello was in an accident when he turned eleven. Brain injury, genital trauma. The man was rendered unable to have children. So Matteo wasn’t too keen on giving him his fortune since it couldn’t be passed down.” Jason took a breath and sighed. “I'm going by memory so some bits are foggy.”

“It’s fine.” Callen urged him to keep going.

“Matteo tried making nice with Sara, but Shanita told him to f**k off and keep depositing the checks. So he decided to groom Raquel into taking over. Keep the fortune in his bloodline, and it would have been cleaner if it was his and Lauren’s kid. Cleaner heir to that throne.”

Callen shook his head. “She's infertile though. Bad luck for that blood line.”

Jason frowned. "Rocky isn't infertile. She just can't have kids. Did she tell you why?"

Callen shook his head. “She refused to tell me. It wasn’t a good night.”

Jason leaned forward and stared Callen down hard. “Callen, man to man, adult to adult here. Be honest with me Did you sleep with Rocky? And was she willing to be dressed down in front of you, glasses, shorts even?"

Holding his breath, Callen nodded. His face reddened slightly as he thought about their strained relationship. "Yes. On all accounts. Why are you surprised?"

"Because Rocky was a virgin," Jason said quietly, watching the older man's face. "It was common knowledge. She didn't trust anyone. Sure, she had boyfriends, but none of them lasted because they couldn't even get her to take her shirt off, or sometimes, even wear short sleeves. She basically dated them to get them to leave her alone, until they got bored and left her alone permanently. She was so ashamed of her body. She never wore anything but sweaters, and pants, or trousers, as you would say." He stared at Callen hard, and leaned on his arms. "If she trusted you that much, Callen, to see her in such a vulnerable state... Holy s**t. Rocky fell in love with you."

Callen took a scalding gulp of his coffee, desperate to feel pain other than the anguish in his stomach. "That... That feeling was mutual. But then she just went off and got apps on her phone and left and... I f****d everything up Jason."

"Callen, look, if Rocky let you touch her-"

"I don't want to speak of this, Jason."

"-then you gotta know, man." The younger man sighed, and looked at him with sympathy. "If she let you in her head, her mind, her heart, and her body... She was in love with you. She trusted you. Because no one could get to her that intimately, Callen. No one."

"Just... Just go on."

Jason nodded. "Okay, I get it. Anyways. From what Sara said, it was bad. Raquel walked in on a mass sell of little girls from Thailand. She tried to stop it, but the buyer didn’t want any witnesses. The man beat her and tried to gut her. That's where the bad scars came from. The seller demanded Matteo watch his own daughter die, but Lauren had a freak out and refused. She took Rocky to the hospital after begging for the girl's life, and the seller relented. She was in the ICU for ten days. They had to remove her ovary and do a radical partial hysterectomy to stop her from hemorrhaging. She was thirteen.”

Callen shook, with what he couldn’t decipher. Pity? Rage? Instead, he drank his cup dry and set it down. “What did her father do?”

“All he could do. Watch. Or the buyer would have killed them all.”

When at first he felt rage at the woman for lying, now all he could feel was pity, and a need to protect her. Callen swallowed, hard, and coughed, shaking his head in disbelief. “As a father, I would gladly have died for my girls. Either of them.”

“Tough call to make. Watch your kid get damn near killed, or make your kid watch your entire family die?” Jason shook his head. “And she took it. What Sara said, when Lauren talked about it on a bender, Rocky just stood back, took a deep breath, closed her eyes and let it happen. She didn't even scream, she knew she was f****d from the start. She got some brain damage. It affected her eyes. That’s why she needed those glasses. I was surprised to see she didn’t wear them when I saw her again.”

“She… she wears contacts.” Callen put his head in his hands and groaned. “What the f**k… who did I let into me house, Jason? Aside from a bed of lies.”

“Technically, she never lied to you. She just omitted. And let’s be honest. You probably never asked.” Jason paused for a moment, watching Callen’s face. “You fell for her. And she fell for you. The only way she'd ever let you see her body, touch those scars, is if she trusted you with her very being. ”

Taking a breath, Callen nodded. “I did. I just... Didn’t realize it. Didn’t hit me until later.”

Jason nodded sadly. “I understand. I fell in love with Sara. Since we were kids, I loved her. Up until I lost contact with her, and gave up finding her. Until now.”

“When did you last see Sara?”

“I saw her was when I was in San Francisco six years ago. We caught up, hung out, did the usual s**t people do when they see each other for the first time in ages.” Jason swallowed more coffee. “The next time I saw her was earlier this year. I was in Rome on business. I almost didn’t recognize her. She looked like a f*****g gypsy with tattoos and piercings, half her head shaved. Arya stayed behind here.”

Callen nodded. “Go on.”

“We talked, we got drunk.” Jason closed his eyes tightly. “She was finally telling me what was going on. Nothing happened that time, but she left the next day. She didn't even give me her f*****g number.”

Callen waited to feel the anger he should have felt when Jason admitted to being with someone other than Arya, but felt none. “And after that?”

“It was that week in Italy. When all Hell broke loose. I caught up with her and she pretended not to know me. I yelled at her and then she pulled me aside, told me her name was Daniela now, and to not talk to her again."

Callen nodded. “That’s what Amelia said her name was. But she screamed Sara when she died.”

"Thats her name. Sara. Daniela was just a name to keep her safe. Anyways, I followed her, and she finally took me to her to a hotel she was working at, and lived in. We got drunk again, but this time we slept together. It was the only time, but we didn't use protection." He swallowed. "It's why I asked about the baby. I know the baby was mine. I went back to Italy three months ago to severe another tie my dad got himself into, and I saw her. She was pregnant. But she wouldn't speak to me about it, and told me to forget about her. I pinned her down and she confirmed that, yeah, the baby's mine, but she was sorry that I couldn't be with it. Then she ran again and I couldn't find her again."

"God, man," Callen said softly, seeing the pain Jason had in his face hurt him more than he would say. "Wait, three months ago? That's when Arya showed back up at me house."

“I know. Great timing, huh? To be honest, ever since I found out about the baby I really didn't give a s**t about Arya's feelings. She had been pining for you since our engagement party, and pissed that someone else made you happy that wasn't her." Jason rolled his eyes. "Anyways, there’s more to this. But I need to talk to Raquel as soon as possible.” The younger man leaned forward, eyebrows pressed together.” She’s in danger, Callen. Where is she? If you know, you can take me to her and just put a f*****g hood on my head so I won’t see how to get to her. But I gotta talk to her. She’s in danger, and so is Sara’s baby. Or my baby.”

Standing up from the table, Callen took both cups to the kitchen. He set the mugs in the sink and stared at the faucet, his reflection gleaming back at him. He hated it. “I’ll take you to her. I’ll even forgo the hood.”

“Thanks man-"

“But if you make me regret this, Jason,” Callen turned to him, and stared into his eyes. Jason watched as flames of ice danced while Callen said, “I will f*****g kill you myself.”