By Any Other Name (19 page)

"It's three o'clock in the morning."

"Exactly," Enzo said. "The sun doesn't come up for another few hours."

Matty punched his brother lightly in the shoulder as he passed him, heading for his bedroom. "Goodnight, En."

"You'd think getting some pussy finally would loosen you up," Enzo hollered after him, "and not wind your ass up even tighter!"

Matty flashed him his middle finger before ducking into his bedroom and shutting the door behind him. Kicking off his shoes, he plopped down on his bed on his back and stared up at the dark ceiling, listening to the continual commotion in the living room.

"Your brother's kind of got a stick up his ass, doesn't he?" one of the girls asked, her voice a loud drunken slur. "Geez."

"Don't talk about my brother," Enzo said.

"But—"

"You heard me," Enzo said, a hard edge to his voice. "He deserves respect, and if you can't respect him, then you can get the hell out."

"Come on, En," Carl said. "Even
you
just said he was wound tight."

"Yeah, well, he's
my
brother," Enzo said. "It's my job to give him shit. But you? Fuck, especially
you
, Carl… you know better. You don't talk about a Barsanti."

"Yeah, you're right," Carl muttered. "Sorry."

"What did he do?" one of the girls asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You said he deserves respect," she responded. "What did he do to deserve it?"

"It doesn't matter what he did," Enzo replied. "He didn't have to do anything. It's who he is and what he's been through. It's about what he's had done to him."

"And what's that?"

"You know what?" Enzo raised his voice, a tinge of anger sparking the words that surprised Matty. "How about we call it a night?"

The girls protested, once more, but Enzo brushed them off, quickly clearing the apartment as he practically forced them out the front door. He slammed the door after they were gone, the vibration so intense it rattled the walls and echoed through the apartment. Matty considered getting up again, considered going to talk to his brother, but instead he just lay there, Enzo's words running through his mind.

It's about what he's had done to him.

Matty tried not to dwell on it, but this was twice in one night it had been brought up, thrust front and center in his mind, the evasive whispering of the day his perfect world had deteriorated around him. A long time had passed since then—over sixteen years—but he still remembered it clearly… remembered the confusion, and the terror… remembered the heartbreak, and the anger… remembered the misery.

The misery. He remembered it most, because it still lingered. He felt it often, weaseling its way into the corners of his being, infiltrating his life, and tainting his happiness with the memory. It left a dark stain on everything good in his universe, and he knew… he fucking
knew
… when he told Genna, that it would scar what he had with her, too.

Closing his eyes, Matty sighed.

It's about what he's had done to him.

Vibrant multi-colored balloons had covered nearly every inch of space, coating the floor as others hovered in clusters around the low ceiling, the curly strings hanging down nearly to the floor of the dining room. The table had been shoved against the far wall, presents piled high on it, the entire room rearranged to accommodate all of the godforsaken balloons.

There had been two hundred of them, to be exact: a hundred at his feet and a hundred above his head. Matty remembered, because his mother had told him earlier that morning. He strode around the room, weaving through the maze of strings, as his little brother Enzo snatched balloons off the floor and threw them around like balls, chasing them, landing right on top of them, the flimsy latex bursting.

Pop.

Pop.

Pop.

They were down by about twenty already.

Matty's gaze kept drifting to the vast window nearby, out into the front yard. Dozens of cars aligned the driveway—family, and friends of the family, but there were very few kids, although the party was supposed to start long ago.

Matty's eighth birthday.

La Traviata
played from the speakers as voices echoed through the house, the adults drinking and chatting, already knee-deep in festivities, seemingly oblivious to Matty's growing concern.

The Galantes weren't there.

They were supposed to be.

Why weren't they?

"Mom!" he called, his voice tinged with whining. "Why isn't Joey here yet?"

Savina stepped into the doorway, smiling sadly. "I'm not sure, sweetheart. I called and got no answer, so they're probably on their way. You know Joey wouldn't miss your party."

"Wait until he sees all of my balloons," Matty said excitedly just as Enzo ran by, clutching a blue one, and face planted right on the floor, the balloon bursting.
Pop
. "If there's any left, anyway."

Minutes passed… five, ten, fifteen… with no sign of Matty's best friend. Growing frustrated, Matty sought out his mother again. He strode through the dining room and stopped in the doorway, seeing his mother clutching the phone to her chest, a frown on her face, as Roberto stood in front of her, his expression severe.

"
None
of them are here," Roberto said sharply. "Not a single one, Savina."

"They'll come," she replied. "It's Matty's birthday."

"That means nothing."

"They're our friends," she said. "Primo is his godfather! They'll come."

"They're not coming," Roberto said, his voice dropping low. "They're sending a message with this."

"What message?"

Before Matty could hear his father's response, a flash of something outside caught his attention, the sound of an engine roaring. He turned toward the window, watching the car pulling up toward the house.

"There's a car here, Mom!" Matty hollered. "Maybe it's Joey!"

His parents both stepped into the dining room, but neither had a chance to speak before it happened.

Pop
.

Pop
.

Pop
.

Matty thought it was the balloons. Instinctively, naively, his gaze darted around at them, confused. Within a matter of seconds, his mother grabbed him and threw him to the floor, snatching a hold of Enzo as he ran past, clutching a balloon. She threw herself on top of them, pinning them there with her trembling body, as the noise grew louder, blanketing the air around them.

Pop.

Pop.

Pop.

Incessant gunfire lit up the house, a hail of bullets raining in on them, shattering the windows, disturbing the curtains, and destroying everything all around. Enzo screamed, terrified, as he struggled beneath their mother, but Matty just lay there, too stunned to even move, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks as he violently shook.

It was over as fast as it started. It took less than a minute to knock his world off its axis, to annihilate his life and leave nothing but devastation.

Matty opened his eyes, again staring up at the ceiling in his dark bedroom. The living room was quiet now, Enzo having shuffled off to his own room for the night. The sudden silence was deafening.

He never saw his best friend again.

A week later, Joey was dead.

"So, uh, where are we going?"

Matty glanced at where Genna sat in the passenger seat of the Lotus. "I told you..."

"You said I'd see."

"Exactly. You'll see."

Genna cut her eyes at him, feigning irritation, but Matty could see nothing more than apprehension. She absently rubbed her palms on the thighs of her dark jeans as she surveyed the neighborhood outside the car windows. It was probably nowhere she had ever been before, yet she knew all about these streets.

They were streets she was
never
supposed to step foot on.

Her question didn't linger in the car for long. Within minutes Matty was pulling up in front of his parents' residence. Genna's anxiety skyrocketed, her fidgeting turning into damn near tremors. "Are we...? Is this...? Dear God, please tell me this isn't your family's place."

"It is."

She gaped at him. "Why are we here?"

"For dinner."

"Are you fucking kidding me? Hannibal Lecter took me
home
?"

"Hannibal?"

"Yeah, you twisted cannibalistic fuck."

Despite himself, Matty laughed at that.
Silly girl
. "I have no plans to eat you, Genna." He paused, raising his eyebrows playfully. "Well..."

"
Not
funny."

"Yeah, you're right. Come on."

He parked the car and climbed out, hearing the passenger side door thrust open right away. "Seriously, Matty? Matty... Matty... Goddammit, Matteo!"

He grimaced when she used his real name, casting her a sideways look. "Don't call me that."

"Fine then, Michael Myers... but slow the fuck down and tell me why we're at your childhood house of horrors."

"I told you… for dinner." Through her outward portrayal of anger, Matty still saw nothing but anxiety. She was starting to seriously sweat. He couldn't say he blamed her. But he hadn't told her in advance for this exact reason, knowing it didn't sound even the least bit rational. "You trust me, right? That's what you said. You trust me now."

"Yes, but—"

"Then
trust
me," he said, holding his hand out to her. "Please."

"Fine," she ground out, rubbing her palms on her jeans once more before slipping her hand into his. He took it, squeezing reassuringly, before leading her toward the house.

Matty didn't knock, opening the front door and stepping right inside, having to practically drag Genna across the threshold. He closed the door behind them as Genna clung to him, her eyes darting around the foyer like a feral cat backed into a corner, looking for a way out. Sighing, he pulled her to him, yanking his hand from hers to drape his arm over her shoulder, tucking her into his side.

She played like she was so unbreakable, so ferocious, so fearless, but moments like this reminded Matty that the ice princess was nothing more than a façade, disguising the fact that she was the most vulnerable of them all.

"Matty? Is that you, Sugar Cube?"

The soft voice wafted out from the den, comforting Matty, but the sound of it had an adverse effect on Genna. She cowered at his side, her hand gripping the back of his shirt.

"Yeah, Mom, it's me," he called out.

Seconds later she appeared, chatting as she approached. "I was wondering if you were going to stop by tonight. Your father and brother just…"

His mother froze there in the doorway, her words trailing off, the smile on her face fading quickly as her mouth dropped open with shock. Blinking a few times, she stared at Genna.

"Left?" Matty guessed, finishing her sentence. "I know. I waited until they were gone."

"I see," she said, drawing out the words, unable to drag her eyes away from Genna. She shook it off after a moment, the smile returning to her lips as she pulled herself together. "So, uh, come in. Have a seat."

She motioned toward the den. Matty started that way, dragging Genna along with him. She didn't put up a fight but ducked her head shyly as they passed his mother, her cheeks flushed. He sat down in the chair, pulling Genna down onto his lap, as his mother took her usual spot on the couch. She pulled the blanket over herself, curling up, with her eyes on the two of them.

"Genna, this is my mother, Savina," Matty said, motioning between the two of them. "Mom, meet Genna."

"Oh, we've met before," Savina said.

Genna eyed her warily. "We have?"

"Certainly," she said, smiling. "Although, you were just a wee little one the last time you were here, so I'm not surprised you don't remember. Feels like just yesterday to me, though."

"Here?" Genna asked. "I was
here
before?"

"Your mother brought you kids over plenty of times to play."

"We
played
?" she asked, disbelief in her voice. "Like, us and… them?"

Genna's skepticism only made Savina smile wider, a light laugh echoing from her. "Absolutely. Matty and Joey were the best of friends. They would try to run off and do their thing while Dante and Enzo trailed behind them, annoying the boys like little brothers often do."

"And me?"

"You were more interested in wreaking havoc than anything."

"Still is," Matty said playfully, earning an elbow to the chest from Genna when he laughed.

"Those were the good ol' days," Savina continued, letting out a deep sigh. "We didn't always go head-to-head. We used to exist peacefully."

"What happened?" Genna asked hesitantly. "What changed?"

"These fools Cara and I married chose power over friendship," Savina said bluntly. "They chose money, and notoriety… instead of choosing each other, like they should have. Don't get me wrong—they're great men. They're
both
great men." Before Matty could speak up, to argue, his mother pointed at him, her expression stern. "They are. They've just gone astray, and I hope they see the error of their ways before it's too late."

"It was already too late as soon as it started, Mom," Matty said. "It took them less than a week to destroy both families."

"I wouldn't say they
destroyed
us," she countered. "We're still here, aren't we? And look at us, sitting here together again. All we need is for Genevieve to stick pennies in my light sockets and it'll feel just like old times."

Instead of clamming up, Genna seemed to relax more, easing back into Matty's arms as a soft smile touched her lips. "I shorted out the electricity in my house a few years ago playing with a light socket."

"Told you," Matty said, wrapping his arms around her. "
Still
wreaking havoc."

They casually chatted some more before Matty excused himself, leaving Genna in the den with his mother as he headed for the kitchen. Flicking on the light, he set to work pulling out everything he would need to make dinner, this time starting with the basics to make it all from scratch. It would take a while, but he wasn't worried—he knew Genna would be fine. His father wouldn't be home until late, long after they were already gone, and he knew his mother wouldn't breathe a word about the visit.

Spaghetti and meatballs. Matty had his sleeves rolled up, his hands dirty as he worked on fresh pasta, the sauce already simmering on the stove. Every now and then he heard laughter filtering out from the den, but it had been quiet for a few minutes.

Almost
too
quiet.

He considered going back in there to check on them when quiet footsteps in the hallway drew his attention. Glancing up, he watched as Genna stepped into the doorway.

"Hey," he said. "You okay?"

"Yeah... your mom fell asleep."

"Not surprised," he replied. "She's been tired lately. I'll wake her when the food's done."

Genna smiled softly, walking into the kitchen, her gaze scanning over the mess he had made. "So you cook?"

"I do."

"Are you any good?"

"Well, I'm better than
you
."

She scoffed playfully, nudging him when she stopped beside him. "That's not saying much. Everyone's better than me."

Matty pulled the meatballs out of the oven before starting to boil the pasta. He stirred the sauce before holding a spoonful of it out toward Genna.  She tasted it, slowly licking her lips afterward.

"So?" he asked.

"So, I guess you're pretty good."

Smirking, he put the meatballs in the sauce to simmer. "You
guess
?"

"Yep," she said, leaning back against the counter as she crossed her arms over her chest. "I reserve judgment until after I taste the whole thing."

"Fair enough."

Matty finished cooking, feeling Genna's intent gaze on him the entire time. Once the food was done, Genna offered to set the table as Matty went to get his mother. She was sleeping soundly, her head propped up on the arm of the couch. Her face was passive, her body at ease.

He considered letting her stay asleep, but he knew he would hear it from her later if he didn't wake her. Gently, he shook her, his voice soft. "Mom, dinner's ready."

Her eyes opened, confusion on her face that morphed into a sheepish smile. "Oh my, I must've dozed off."

Genna was already sitting at the table when they walked in. They took their seats, immediately starting to eat. Matty took a few bites, having no appetite, too focused on the women sitting at the table.

He never, in a million years, thought it was possible to have them both there with him. They talked quietly, an ease in their conversation as she openly welcomed Genna into their home.

"This is good, Sugar Cube," his mother said. "Much better than the last time you made it."

He was about to thank her when Genna spoke up. "Sugar Cube?"

Matty was rolling his eyes before his mother even started to explain.

"He's so, so sweet," she said, "but so, so
square
."

Genna laughed, nearly choking on her drink.

"I'm not
that
bad," he said defensively.

"You're not," his mother said reassuringly, reaching over and covering his hand with hers. "You used to be so much worse. You've loosened up a lot these past few weeks. Wonder why that is..."

There as a knowing twinkle in her eye as her gaze drifted to Genna.

"Probably because I've got
two
beautiful women to spend my days with."

"I'm glad you do," his mother said. "I'm happy you have her, too."

It didn't escape his notice that Genna's cheeks flushed at the acknowledgement.

Dinner went by way too quickly, darkness falling outside. As much as Matty wished he could stay longer, as soon as he cleaned up the kitchen he knew they had to get out of there. Against his wishes, his mother walked them to the door, hugging Genna tightly. "It was so great to see you, Genevieve."

"You, too, Mrs. uh..."

She stumbled on the last name.

"Call me Savina."

"Savina."

Genna stepped off the porch, heading for the Lotus, as Matty eyed his mother warily. She looked even more exhausted now, her face pale, sweat beading along her forehead. Just dinner had sapped every ounce of energy out of her.

"I'll come back after I drop her off," he said. "I'll wait with you until Dad gets home."

"Nonsense, I don't need a babysitter," she said, waving him away dismissively. "You have a good night."

Sighing, he leaned over to kiss his mother's cheek as she hugged him. "Goodnight, Mom."

"Night." He started off the porch when she called his name. "Matty?"

"Yeah."

"Thank you."

He stood there, staring, as she headed back inside the house and shut the door. Sighing, Matty headed for the car and slipped into the driver's seat.

He raised his eyebrows at Genna. "So?"

"So you're a good cook," she conceded, reaching over to cup his cheek before softly pressing a kiss to his lips. "But more importantly, I'm beginning to think you're a wonderful person."