Chapter 3
Chapter Three
PRESENT
It’s Christmas Eve and I’m expected to be at the Giulianis’ house in an hour. I look at my watch and curse the asshole in front of me who won’t fucking talk.
“You know we’ve got plans, right? Hurry this up, Emilio,” Elias says while my other two brothers, Esterio and Ezekiel, chuckle.
“You want to have a go?” I point to the guy currently laid out on a metal table, ankles and wrists tied in leather straps.
“Nope, you said you wanted this one,” Elias replies.
I did want this. I need a way to burn through my anxiety about going to the Giulianis’ house.
I needed to fall into the darkness and stay there.
Because that way, I might not feel anything when I have to see her.
Fucking Frankie, the bane of my existence, the one woman I would do anything for and who wants nothing to do with me.
I can still remember how her lips felt against mine three years ago. I kissed her on her eighteenth birthday. I know she felt it and whatever happened scared the shit out of her. She ran and has been running ever since. And me? Well, I let her.
“Heard Frankie was bringing some guy home for Christmas this year,” Esterio says.
That one sentence has me seeing fucking red.
Over my dead fucking body is she parading some asshole around in front of me.
She knows how I feel about her. She’s too smart not to.
She’s also seen the lengths I’ll go to for her.
If she thinks I’m going to sit back and watch her play house with another guy, she can fucking think again. That’s not happening.
With a renewed rage, I turn to the asshole laid out on the table and yank the gag out of his mouth.
“This is what’s going to happen. You’re going to tell me where that fucking container is within the next five seconds or I’m going to take this pair of scissors and cut your balls off.
Then I’m going to stake them to that metal rod over there before shoving it up your fucking ass,” I tell him, holding up a pair of shears. “One, two, three, four…”
I lean over, lining the scissors up with his ball sac.
“Wrong move, trying to call my bluff. I’m not bluffing, asshole,” I hiss out as I begin to close the scissors around his skin.
“Okay, argh. Fuck! Okay, okay! Stop! I’ll tell you!”
I pause. “Start talking.”
“It’s in Arizona, a storage yard. The address is in my phone,” he says.
I look over at Ezekiel, who picks up the phone. He walks over and holds the screen above the asshole’s face.
“Where?” I grunt.
“Under the contact that says Lopez,” he tells me.
Ezekiel nods when he finds it. He pulls out his own phone, takes a screenshot, and then tosses the guy’s device onto the ground. Stomping on it and cracking the screen.
Elias nods at me. “Finish it,” he says.
I look back at the table.
“I told you. I can go now,” the guy says.
I lift one shoulder and smirk. “You took too long.”
I snap the scissors closed, cutting his balls off. He screams, blood splattering everywhere. Esterio comes up and hands me a gun. I aim it at the guy’s head and put him out of his misery.
“Was that really necessary?” Elias asks.
“I thought so.” I shrug, picking up a towel.
“I’ll see you all at the Giulianis’,” I tell my brothers before walking out of the warehouse.
I’m late. My dad’s been blowing up my phone for the last thirty minutes, checking in on me.
I’m not late for any other reason than I don’t want to be here.
Over the past three years, I’ve gotten good at making excuses for missing our extended family get-togethers.
There was no getting out of it this time.
My mother put her foot down and said she’d rather stay in Mexico than spend Christmas without me.
The thing is, I know how much my mother loves being with her friends on Christmas.
I couldn’t not come and make her miss that.
Which is why I’m here, holding a bunch of flowers for my Aunt Charlotte and a tiny box in my pocket.
A gift for Frankie, because it’s fucking Christmas and I haven’t given her anything yet.
“Nice to see you made it.” Esterio smirks at me as I walk through the Giulianis’ foyer.
“What are you smirking at?” I ask him.
“You’ll see. Hold up.” He stands in front of me, extending a palm. “Papa wants me to strip you. Hand it all over.”
I frown. “What? Why?”
Esterio shrugs. “Just following orders, little brother. Hand it all over.”
I shove the flowers into his chest and he takes them. I then proceed to remove the two guns from the holster under my jacket. Bending down, I remove the small knife strapped to my ankle.
“That’s it?” Esterio asks when I’m done.
“It’s Christmas Eve and we’re with family. What more would I need?” I ask him.
“Nothing.” He smiles wide again before passing me the flowers. “Everyone is out back.”
I follow Esterio to the back deck. The moment I do, I clock her and I clock the reason Esterio took my weapons. She’s got some douchebag sitting next to her. Way too fucking close. I pause. My steps falter.
“Emilio, you’re late,” my father says, snapping me out of my own head.
“Sorry. Traffic was a bitch,” I tell him.
At the sound of my voice, Frankie turns around. Her eyes land on me and I see it. The longing, the want. Her cheeks blush and she quickly turns away.
“Aunt Charlotte, these are for you.” I walk over to my aunt, bend down, and hug her.
“Oh, they’re my favorite. Thank you.” My aunt stands. “I’m going to put these in water.”
“I’ll help you.” I follow her into the kitchen. My mother also gets up and trails behind us.
“You okay?” Mom whispers.
“Mhmm, great. You?” I ask her.
“Emilio, don’t lie to me,” she says.
“It’s not serious,” Aunt Charlotte chimes in.
“What’s not serious?”
“The guy, Kenneth or Kevin or whatever his name is. He’s just a friend,” she explains.
I chuckle. “That’s what she tells you because she wants to keep him breathing.”
“Nope, he’s gay,” Aunt Charlotte insists. “I saw him staring at Hudson for way longer than any straight man would have.”
“Why are you telling me this?” I narrow my eyes.
“Because it’s Christmas Eve, and I don’t want to be cleaning up blood from my dining table.” My aunt stares back at me knowingly.
“You won’t have any problems from me, Aunt Charlotte. I can be civil.” I hold up my hands.
“You have the Lopez temperament, which means if something annoys you or challenges you, you kill it,” Aunt Charlotte counters.
“Charlotte, my children are not animals,” Mom comes to my defense.
“I didn’t say that, Evie. Just that I know how he feels about Frankie and how she feels about him.
One day, you two will get your shit together and give your mother and I those shared grandbabies we’ve been dreaming about.
That day isn’t going to be today, though.
” Aunt Charlotte finds a vase and fills it with water.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to deny her claims, but I’m not a liar. “I’ll be on my best behavior. Scout’s honor,” I tell her as I walk back out towards the patio.
“You were never a scout, Emilio,” my aunt calls after me, and I laugh.
There’s an empty seat next to my sister. I choose that spot. It’s also directly across from Frankie. Leaning over to Eliana, I kiss her cheek. “How are you?”
“Good. Where have you been?” Eliana replies.
“Running errands. What’d I miss?”
“Not much. Tío Sammie and Tío Carlo have some kind of bet going. I have no idea what it’s about, but they keep raising the stakes.”
My uncles are always betting against something. When I look over at them, I see them watching me. I have no doubt I’m the subject of their bet tonight. I pick up the glass of water in front of me and raise it in their direction. My eyes flick across the table.
“Hi,” I say to Frankie.
“Hi.”
“Who’s your friend?” I ask while doing my best to keep my face and tone neutral.
Eliana reaches under the table and takes hold of my hand. “Emilio, I need you to help me. In the bathroom.”
“With what?” I glance at my sister, checking for any sign that she’s ill.
“My lipstick. I need to fix it and I need help,” she says.
“Eliana, you’re not wearing any lipstick and you don’t need it. You’re always the prettiest girl in the room anyway,” I tell her.
I hear the intake of breath from across the table. I look at Frankie, who is staring at me with wide eyes. I told her that once. I also told her the only other girl I ever said that to was my sister.
“You don’t scrub up too bad either, Frankie.” I wink at her.
“This is my friend, Kevin. Kevin, Emilio, my cousin.” Frankie puts extra emphasis on that last word.
“Nice to meet you,” Kevin says.
“What are your intentions with my cousin?” I ask the guy, putting just as much emphasis on the title as Frankie did.