I knew all too well what it was like to lose your mother too young. And your father. And the happy homelife you’d had for what felt like way too short a time, only to watch it end in a fingersnap.
“Thank you. It was six years ago, but it doesn’t feel that way. Not here.” He held my hand to his heart and the beat was uneven and wild.
Just like it had been for us when we were locked together, except for a whole different reason.
“No. Me either.” I swallowed hard and studied his darker fingers curled around my lighter ones. “I was eight when mine passed.”
“The blood.”
I lifted my head. “What?”
“Mia said something about the blood earlier, and your mother. That it was why you didn’t do well with the sight of it.”
“Oh. Guess I was passed out then. Or on the way.” I sighed. “She had an aneurysm. It’s an awful way to go. I found her, and by then it was…too late. I blocked it out for a while after. Kinda my way of dealing. Mia fights in reaction to stress, and I go into denial.” I swallowed again, and found that the lump in my throat hadn’t budged. “I so don’t want to be like this about sex every time. If sex is my new blood, that would really suck.”
He smiled down at me, and though I knew he was probably laughing at me in his head, at least a little, there was no mocking in his expression. “We’ll have to make sure that’s not the case.”
I linked my arms around his neck, grateful that they were steady once again. He’d helped, just by being there. By talking me through it. By listening to whatever wacked out thing popped out of my mouth. “Someday, maybe I can tell you about Mia. My side of it, like you said. I guess I never realized I had a part of the story. It was hers, and I was a bystander.”
“You’re never a bystander when someone you love gets hurt.” He brushed my hair out of my eyes. “She’s lucky to have someone so loyal in her corner.”
“If you only knew the thoughts I’ve had now and then, you wouldn’t say that. I’m no angel.”
“Neither am I, so you’ll find no judgment here.”
Looking into his deep, dark eyes, I saw the truth in his words. Nothing I could say to him would shock him, the guy with the attempted murder rap on his record and who knows what else. He’d lived a life far worse than my small crimes of sometimes thinking mean thoughts about my sister’s overprotectiveness. Or my warped sense of jealousy at all the attention she’d gotten over the years once anyone had discovered what she’d lived through.
I’d lived through something too. I’d lost my parents, and for three months, my big sister. My rock. She’d come back, but she wasn’t the same. And because she wasn’t, I wasn’t either.
And even I knew how fucking pathetic and petty that sounded, even just echoing in my own head.
For all these years, we’d both been broken. Her for real, and me by proxy. Last week had opened up the fissures I’d denied were inside me, turning them into big, gaping cracks.
“I love her so much,” I whispered, shame heating my face. “I swear I do.”
“I know. Anyone can see that.”
“She doesn’t understand how I can be so free with my body, and for good reason, considering. But it was a power trip for me. I liked being a tease. I know that isn’t right—”
“Did you ever lie to a man about what you intended to happen?”
“No,” I replied quickly, hotly. “Never. I just flirted. Too much sometimes.”
“You’re allowed to flirt, and set boundaries wherever you choose. It’s the man’s job to respect them. To respect you, and himself.” He caressed my lower lip with the tip of his thumb. “You’ll never know how sorry I am that I was part of something that made you judge yourself harshly. You don’t deserve it. The things they said weren’t true, or right. It’s your body. You can dance or do whatever you want, and if someone has a problem with that, it’s theirs. Not yours.”
I pressed my face into his chest, closing my eyes before the heat in them spilled over. “Thank you for saying that. For being here.”
“I wish I could erase that night.” He pressed his cheek to the top of my head, and for a second, I wondered if the thickness I heard in his voice symbolized more. If his eyes would be damp too. “I’m so sorry.”
I reeled back, lifting my head. “No, don’t say that. I don’t want to erase it.”
He only stared at me.
“You were there with me. You were there,” I repeated, unable to explain it any better than that. “And if I twisted it all up in my head to try to pretend it was just one more exhibitionism game, to make it okay so I could survive it, you were the one who let me. You kept my eyes on yours, and I knew you’d never hurt me. From the first, I always knew.”
“But I did. I have.”
“We’ve hurt each other.” I gave him that out, because he’d given me so much in the last few minutes that I didn’t feel like I could ever repay him. Mitigating his concerns was the least I could do. “Now we won’t.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed, and he nodded. He gripped my hands, bringing them to his mouth. “Now we won’t,” he agreed softly.
S
he was gone
when I woke.
I sat up and tried to orient myself. I was in my bed, in my own apartment, but the sheets were messier than I’d make them on my own, and they were fragranced with the scent of lemons. Lemons and vanilla, those were Carly’s scents. I’d never been able to decide if it was perfume or shampoo or if she baked so much that those particular scents had seeped into her skin.
Now they’d seeped into my bedding.
Into me.
Like a damn girl, I checked the nightstand for a note. Nothing. I glanced around, noting her boots and coat were gone. The rest of her clothes hadn’t fared so well.
I frowned. She’d had to leave in only her trenchcoat, thanks to me.
She’d dropped her purse by the front door, and I was sure that was long gone too. I was tempted to go check, just in case she was in the kitchen, but decided I wouldn’t complete the full circuit to pussy just yet.
What did I expect? For her to scramble the eggs I didn’t have for our breakfast? Maybe go buy a newspaper and we could feed each other melon slices over the sports section? Jesus. We weren’t a couple. The…arrangement we’d made didn’t extend to cozy breakfasts the morning-after.
It wasn’t supposed to extend to heart-to-hearts after mind-melting sex either, but we’d had one last night. And she’d fallen asleep in my arms.
We’d slept together in every sense of the word.
My cell went off in the jeans still crumpled on the floor. I debated not answering it, but I had to. I was expecting a call from Marco today. I’d set up a meeting tonight with a few of the higher-ups in the organization, intending to share the good news about my fight with Fox. I hadn’t told them right away, because I’d half expected him to back out. But now that he’d told Mia, clearly he was sticking.
I’d wanted to make the announcement with maximum fanfare, and Lorenzo needed to be present. He helmed the gambling side of the organization, and he’d be quite happy to hear what he’d be able to rake in for this fight. Rake in and shake down afterward, when those who’d bet too much couldn’t pay. A match like this would probably lead to more than a few broken legs…or worse. Much worse.
I couldn’t think about that now, because it was my insurance. Fox had agreed to set the bout for six weeks from today, giving us plenty of time to ride the hype. In the meantime, I’d get as close to the top as I could so I could finally make my run at Roberto. If I couldn’t get near him while I was safely in the public eye, making a hit on me more unlikely, I’d have lost my best chance to come out the other side in one piece. This would likely be a suicide mission either way I cut it, but I’d prefer to slice it with Roberto dead too.
My phone stopped ringing, then immediately started again. Groaning, I rolled out of bed and dug my cell out of my pocket. The Caller ID made my skin turn to ice.
Dante Costas.
My older brother. The guy I’d looked up to since I was a toddler. I’d chased after him when he’d started playing with older kids up the block, walked with him every day to school, watched in wide-eyed fascination as he’d started collecting illegal firearms. In time, he’d stopped collecting and started selling. We’d been close, best friend close, until he’d started spending more time with my father than me and Mamma. Even as a child, I knew what that meant.
He’d been lost to the other side, the one opposite the wire-thin divide that existed in my family since I’d come into it. My mother and I on one side, my father and Dante on the other.
Now we were on opposite sides again, and the stakes were life or death.
I’d hoped word hadn’t reached my father yet that I’d joined the other side. Until I’d been made, I’d counted on my presence on the Andrettis turf going mostly unnoticed. Outside fighting, I didn’t make a spectacle of myself. I’d tried to snake up the chain as unobtrusively as possible, because I wasn’t only infiltrating one organization.
I was openly, defiantly rejecting another.
Steeling myself, I clicked to accept the call. “Dante. This is a surprise.”
A long pause, long enough to cause my fist to bunch against my thigh. “You sound the same,” he said finally. “How long has it been?”
He didn’t want to hear years, months, days. Hours. I could give them if he did. My life had split into two halves. Before that night in June, and after.
Dante was firmly part of the before.
“Long enough,” I said, walking to the nightstand to slide on my heavy gold watch. It was a status thing. Meant to show I was a player in every sense. Sometimes even I forgot I was playing.
Games weren’t supposed to end with murder, but mine did.
Would
.
“I’ve called. You never answer.”
“No.”
“Yet you answered now.” His voice grew lazy. I could picture him kicking back in his chair, stretching out his legs and crossing them at the ankles. The indolent, insolent eldest son, sole heir to a dirty throne.
I hadn’t wanted to share that seat. I’d wanted to grow flowers, and have a quiet life with my wife. The game player in me now would sneer at such a quaint dream. Quaint dreams like that were a waste of a wish. Better to get all the money and pussy you could, before your ride inevitably came to an end.
It always did, one way or another.
“I have to wonder why that is,” he continued. “Though I suppose only fools wonder, when the answer’s staring them right in the face.” He sighed. “Why, Gio? Just tell me why.”
I shut my eyes and gripped the phone tighter. So much for hoping word hadn’t yet climbed up to the upper echelons of my father’s ranks. If Dante knew, Vincente knew. They were linked in a way that I’d never been with my father.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It wasn’t much of a defense, and I knew it.
Why had I answered? Curiosity? Some kind of stupid desire to hear my big brother’s voice one more time?
It was almost certainly going to be the last time. If I got the six weeks to carry out my plan, I wouldn’t get much more. I was now effectively in the crosshairs of two organizations—or would be, once I made my move on Roberto.
“Sure you don’t. You know, I thought you must have a death wish when you started fighting. It wasn’t like you. I was the boxer in the family. You were the one who planted begonias and fretted over soil temperature.”
Gritting my teeth, I said nothing.
“Then I realized it was part of a long game you had going. It took a while for me to see exactly what, as you operated with great patience and precision. Gotta say, little brother, it almost brought a tear to my eye. I truly didn’t think you had it in you.”
“Is there a point to this call, or do you just feel the need to share your brotherly pride? It’s duly noted. I’d express the same, except I’ve found your behavior despicable since you turned fourteen.”
He let out a dark, almost demonic laugh, just as he always had when he flipped the barrel on one of his guns while playing Russian roulette. “Be careful you don’t step out of the kettle right into the pot, brother.”
“We aren’t the same in any way. You had another choice. You didn’t have to pick this path.”
“Oh, and you did?” His voice turned lazy again. He was like the human equivalent of a lion sunning himself on a rock. Seemed perfectly harmless and unaware of his surroundings, until someone walked too close to his patch of sun. Then they’d find their throat torn open.
I wouldn’t make that mistake.
“Whatever you’re hinting at, come out and say. I don’t have time for guessing games.”
“No, you prefer a different sort. Ones that involve blood and death.” I heard a faint metallic clinking sound in the background, and figured he was probably at his desk, toying with his metronome. Our father had given him one as a child, because he’d always enjoyed puzzles and things of that ilk. He’d kept it on his desk, idly knocking one ball into another while he plotted murder and mayhem.
“I’m not playing.”
“And I am? Funny I would’ve said you knew me better than that, but then I once thought I knew you as well. You were my sweet, kind little brother, whose heart was too soft for violence. Now you make your living at it. And
merda
, you’re a fucking king, aren’t you?” He laughed, for real this time. “Wonders never fucking cease.”
“I do what I have to do. As do you. So if you’re calling to discuss some rumors you heard, don’t waste your breath.”
“Rumors? Hardly. Are you that much of a rube that you don’t know how the chain of command works? I’ve been in New York for a while now. I’m aware the instant you step into The Pyramid Club, know what drink you order and what little hottie climbs on your lap.”
Carly
.
I sat on the edge of the bed and fought not to even breathe heavier. Because he would know. “It’s a free country. Nothing wrong with stepping in anyplace I want.”
“Yeah, true, until you decide to become a made man for the Andrettis. Jesus H. Christ, brother, how long do you think I can cover for your ass before the bill comes due?”
Pinching my fingers against the bridge of my nose didn’t begin to alleviate the pressure. Speculating that he knew was one thing. Hearing the words come out of his mouth, another altogether.
Bluster was all I had left. That and the sheer conviction that I was right. I had no other option other than to continue on the path I’d set. “You’re covering for me, hmm? Since when?”
“Since the day you turned your back on us and decided to take up with the enemy.”
“Oh, really. And why would you do that?”
“Because I only have one brother, and if anyone’s going to take him out, I reserve the right.” He exhaled. “Dammit, Gio, why do you put me in this kind of position? If you suddenly developed a hard-on to be made, why join them and not your own flesh and blood? What would Mamma think?”
I shot to my feet and nearly hurled the phone into the wall. “Don’t you dare mention her. Not when the man you chose to align yourself with did nothing but make her last days a living hell.”
He fell silent. “You choose to see it that way, and I guess I understand why. You were always hiding behind her skirts. But she made her choices, Gio, as we all do. She knew what she was doing when she married our father.” That metallic clinking sounded again in the background. “As did Emilia Andretti when she hooked up with you.”
My fingers tensed around my cell. If I managed to not shatter the screen before the end of this phone call, I’d be shocked. “She didn’t hook up with me. She was to be my wife, and you damn well know it.”
“Eighteen years old, and wanting to get married.” He chuckled without mirth. “Dear Lord in heaven, I’m twenty-five and the idea still turns my stomach.”
“We never did see things the same way.”
“No, we did not. Whatever it is you’ve got up your sleeve, you won’t survive unscathed. I can only do so much. Our father, he is not so generous with his sense of justice. He doesn’t look back on his memories of you with the same fondness I do.”
“Hang on while I grab a tissue.”
“Pride goeth before a fall,” he murmured. “Second chances go even before that. If you turn back now, I will do what I can. If not…”
I remained silent, staring hard at the nightstand where my mother’s Bible rested in the top drawer. I’d faced darkness before. I was used to it. If the darkness this time was eternal, I would accept my fate with dignity.
There would be no pleas, no eleventh hour Hail Marys. I’d charted a course, and I would see it through to the end.
Emilia and my lost child deserved nothing less.
“As you wish,” he said finally, when it became obvious I had no intention of replying. “I admire your stubbornness, even if I already miss my baby brother.” He clicked off.
Anyone else would interpret what he’d said as a comment on our fractured relationship. But that wasn’t how it worked in our world. Relationship issues wouldn’t merit such talk.
He missed me already, because I was as good as dead.
I tossed my phone onto the bed, not looking where it landed. Rising, I went to my dresser, and checked the top drawer. My .357 was still there, and a quick glance in the chamber reassured me that it was loaded. In all likelihood, I wouldn’t have time to get to it when and if my day came, but having it gave me a small measure of peace.
There were other guns around the apartment. One by one, I checked the places I’d tucked them. Behind the grate in the bathroom. Above the loose ceiling tile in the hallway. Under the ornate wood coffee table, an antique I’d bought for the sole reason that it would provide handy storage for my weaponry.
I was on the way to check my last handgun hiding place, the toaster oven—though that spot had been chosen due to unexpected guests, and I’d never moved it back to the cupboard—when I noticed the brightly colored fabric pinned to the door with a note.
I almost didn’t stop. I needed to ensure the gun was where I’d left it. But curiosity won out, and I took down the pieces of Carly’s thong and a large swatch of her dress. I clenched them in my fist, wondering how they could still feel warm, and pulled down the note she’d scrawled on a paper towel in her neat, looping handwriting.
Sorry, had to split early today. I’m on opening shift at the Salad Hut, which is the extreme suck. Also the extreme suck is loving your panties and your dress, and losing them to tomfoolery.
The smile took me by surprise. She had a way about her. Capable of performing miracles.
You owe me a dress and panties. I’d buy some and send you the bill, but I think I’d rather see what you’d choose for me. If you need sizes, hit me up.
Oh, and I’m dancing tomorrow night, in case you want to shadow. And rip my clothes off me again when I’m done.
The best tomfoolery happens more than once.
She signed it with a lipstick kiss. I’d nearly brought the paper to my mouth before I realized the levels I’d stooped to.
Searching for guns I’d stashed in toaster ovens, and kissing paper towels.
I flipped down the toaster oven, saw that my gun was in the same place I’d left it. Then I went into the bedroom and grabbed my phone, thumbing out a quick text to Carly.