Chapter 15 #2
Someone was nuts enough to marry into his family? I’ve only met Gio and Matteo, but from what I’ve seen, Matteo is cool, composed, and scary as fuck, while Gio is the complete opposite. I’m pretty sure he would qualify as being certifiably insane.
“How many brothers do you have?”
“Why, Bronwyn, with all your questions, I just might think you’re trying to get to know me.”
Ugh. I knew I shouldn’t have asked him anything. I turn my attention back to the window and continue my effort of ignoring the fact that he exists.
“I like that you want to get to know me, cara,” Gio says, his tone soft in a way that tugs at my heartstrings. “I have two brothers, Matteo and Alessio. Most people think it’s four though, because my cousins Enzo and Aldo are basically my brothers too. We’ve all been close since diapers.”
Four brothers?
I can’t imagine having a family that big.
Growing up, it was always just me, my mom, and my dad.
I don’t think they would even count as full parents with how much they were off doing their own thing and not paying me any attention.
Most of the time they would get me a frozen pizza and expect that to last me for the week while they didn’t come home.
I started doing my own laundry at six. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have had clean clothes.
It’s a whole new level of embarrassment to go to school dirty.
It’s the kind that aches in your bones. So yeah, I’d say they count as one full parent together. Maybe.
“That’s a big family,” I mutter.
Gio lets out a loud laugh. “Yeah, cara, it’s a big family.”
“Which brother is Wren married to?”
“Matteo. They have one daughter together. Her name is Viviana.”
“That’s a pretty name.”
“She’s a little spitfire. She’s going to give Matteo a run for his money. You’ll meet her tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” I ask, confused.
“It’s Sunday.”
I stay silent as I wait for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t.
“You’re saying that like I’m supposed to know what that means.”
Gio pulls into his spot out front of the pizzeria and cuts the engine. “It’s family dinner.”
I choke on my own air as fear runs through my veins. “Family dinner? Don’t you think it’s a little too soon for this?” I barely get out. Actually, it’s way too soon. I don’t even know what this is other than once again he’s pushing me into something.
“You don’t need to sound so freaked out,” Gio says, finding the whole thing amusing. “Ma is going to love you.”
I don’t get a chance to respond before Gio is already out of his car and walking around the front to get my door. Before I can gather my thoughts, my door is open, and Gio is pulling me out.
“Gio… I’m not going to your family dinner.”
Gio slams my door shut before taking my hand in his and dragging me into the pizzeria. “Are you going to be the one to tell Ma you’re not coming?”
I smile in greeting at the young girl working the counter, who doesn’t look fazed by Gio dragging me around.
“I’m not telling your mom anything! I don’t know her. You shouldn’t have told her I would come in the first place.”
“It was naturally the next step.” Gio shrugs as he lets go of my hand to grab the ingredients for a pizza out of the walk-in. “We’re going to make this at your place, but it’ll taste the same. Promise.” Gio turns to me and winks.
I watch with my mouth open in shock, trying to comprehend how this conversation got so far out of hand, while he shuffles the ingredients into one arm, swipes a yellow bottle in the other, and heads to the back door leading to the alley.
“You coming?” he asks as he looks back at me, his arms full of ingredients, waiting to push the door open.
“Why didn’t we just order one and walk downstairs when it’s ready?” I ask, not moving from my spot.
“Because that would be me taking the cheap way out. I owe you a pizza, and I’m going to personally see that you get it. Now, are you done asking me stupid questions?”
I scowl as I stomp toward him. “I’m not asking stupid questions, Gio! You’re the one who keeps bossing me around and not really listening to me.”
Gio pushes the door open, holding it for me to walk through first. “I listen to you, cara. I always listen to you. Sometimes, I just don’t think you’re right.”
“Because I don’t think it’s appropriate I come to your family dinner?” I ask, bewildered, as I climb the stairs to my place.
Gio sighs. “You only think it’s inappropriate because you refuse to open your eyes and see what’s happening here. Do you really think Matteo would have shown up at your work if he didn’t already know you mean something to me?”
I fumble with my keys at his admission, my hands shaking with fear of what I’ve been refusing to accept.
After the third try, I finally get the key in the hole and unlock the door, letting us both inside.
“I think he wanted to make sure I wasn’t going to rat you guys out after seeing you disposing of an entire body this time instead of just a hand. ”
“He knows you wouldn’t rat, babe,” Gio says as he sets everything down on the kitchen counter. He turns to me as he pulls a white envelope out of his back pocket, shaking it in my direction before tossing it on the counter as well. “Before I forget, here’s your next payment.”
“But I haven’t paid rent yet,” I tell him, my brow lowering in confusion as the discomfort sets in. “I shouldn’t be getting hush money when I’m behind on what I owe.”
I get paid tomorrow and will be caught up, but that’s beside the point.
“Don’t worry about it,” Gio says nonchalantly as he turns his back to me to preheat my oven.
“Don’t worry about it?” I choke out as I cross my arms and cock a hip out. “Please tell me, Gio, how I can just not worry about the money I owe a mafia boss!”
He mumbles something that I don’t quite catch, making me move closer to him.
“What was that?”
“Just don’t worry about it, alright?”
“No. I want to know what you said,” I press, the demand lingering between us.
Gio sets the knife down he was just about to slice an onion with and tips his head back. “God, woman, you drive me fucking insane.”
“Gio.”
“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“No.”
He goes back to slicing the onion, still not looking at me. “I took care of it.”
He took care of it?
I grit my teeth as I try to contain the rage that’s ignited in me because if I don’t, I’m going to end up smacking him in the head. “Are you saying you paid my rent?”
“That’s what I took care of it means.”
I rub my hands down my face as I slowly breathe in and out. “Why did you think that’s okay for you to do?”
“Why are you mad?” Gio asks as he rolls out the dough.
He can’t be serious right now.
“I’m mad because I had it worked out with Matteo. You knew that. And then you decided to ignore that by going behind my back and paying it, making it look like I’m some broke bitch who can’t take care of my own shit!” The deep breathing didn’t work because now I’m full-on yelling.
“Yeah? Have you heard from your dad yet?”
“Fuck you, Gio,” I hiss before storming out of the kitchen. My skin feels flushed with shame and embarrassment. That was a low blow, and he knows it.
I really hate the fact that I live in a studio apartment right now, because all I want to do is lock myself in another room, but Lord knows that man isn’t going to leave my space.
I frantically look around my small apartment, trying to figure out where to go as I feel the tears burning behind my eyes.
My brain registers the only door in my apartment that I can lock myself behind: the bathroom.
I run to it and slam the door shut. The old wood rattles the frame. I lock it and sit on the edge of the older tub. I make it just in time before a sob hiccups out of me as the tears flow down my face.
My dad has always done this to me. It’s not new, and I doubt it will be the last time. The thing that makes this time suck that much fucking more is there’s people in my life to witness it.
It’s funny because my whole life, I wanted to scream and have someone I could vent to, someone who understood what was going on instead of me bottling it all up and throwing away the key. But now that there’s someone who’s witnessed it, I want nothing more than to crawl in a hole.
Giving my dad money, even though deep down I always knew he didn’t give a fuck about me and never had plans to pay me back, my brain had somehow twisted that into thinking if I help him every time he asks maybe just one day he would care about me.
Ask me how I’m doing or if I need help with anything.
It hasn’t come.
I lean forward and grab a wad of toilet paper to wipe the snot off my face. It’s pointless because more comes right after. I rest my elbows on my knees and let my head hang between my arms as I try to gather myself.
I don’t know how much time has passed before the door handle jiggles and a fist knocks on the door. “Open up, cara.”
I sniffle as I wipe my tears on my sleeve.
“Open up, or I’m coming in. You should know a little lock isn’t going to keep me from you.”