Chapter 29
Gia
Castor’s right. He’s given me not one red flag to doubt him and been open about all the dark shadows he visits. It’s all been in my head… All a challenge from my goddamn brother. Of course Castor has a harsh past – he’s a capo of the Valentino crime family. What was I expecting? It’s half the damn allure! But he’s changing… for me. Compromising. I told Stacey everything since we made up that night, and she ultimately agreed.
It’s been a week of smooth sailing. We text all the time. He visits me when he can, unannounced, which makes me as giddy as it does horny. Still, in the back of my head I feel like an ass for leaving him hanging. Putting myself in his shoes… I would’ve acted far worse.
I owe him. So that’s why at tonight’s big upcoming dinner, I’m giving him a gift I hope he likes. I’m looking at it right now – a portrait of him with his arms crossed in a tank-top, displaying all his tattoos in various colors. Cheesy, I know. But what else can I do? This is what I put my soul into. Oh, and I also ordered a gold-plated scroll case to hold it. So there’s that.
Don’t forget the note I’m going to slip in there too:
Castor Oil (new nickname I just made up! Tell your friends – no more Bullion),
We’ve had way too many ups and downs for a couple of only a few months. Not sure how much more my little heart can handle. But honestly? I wouldn’t have it any other way. Rushing through the fast lane with you has been an insane, sexy, loving ride. And over all the bumps, you caught me and apologized for swerving into them. Me, though? When I swerve into one, I just fall inward like a scared turtle.
I’m sorry for that, Castor.
I left you hanging, and I shouldn’t have.
Hope this gift counts as a token of my appreciation of you, because it’s how I see you – a badass, sexy mother-effer who’s going to protect me until the end of our days.
Love you a thousand times, and can’t wait to see you later.
First family dinner! Ahh!! Can’t wait.
Kisses,
G
Adds to the cheese, I know. Whatever. I’m like a schoolgirl again, and I’m embracing it. Me, Castor, Mom, her boyfriend, and Marco, if you can believe it. That’s where I’m going tonight, and that’s what I meant by family dinner. No idea how it’s going to go, but it’s a first step if this is going to work long-term.
Since it’s almost eighty-degrees tonight, I’m wearing a fun teal sundress with blue sequins trailing throughout. I always liked the way this one hugs my figure, and really hope it works to tease Castor when he picks me up in a few minutes. Maybe we’ll even have a quickie.
Heat branches out from my chest, making my fingers and toes tingle. I wonder what Mom’s going to say about us – I mean, she’s known him forever, so hopefully it won’t be too bad. Unless Marco said something stupid.
Castor: Outside.
My heart skips a beat when I think of my big badass waiting in his Range Rover to scoop me up. We’ve had sex so many times in it I feel like it’s our own personal kink dungeon. I wonder what he’s going to try to do to me next. I’m his goddess. And he’s my underworld king.
Grabbing my clutch, my painting, and slipping into a matching pair of Michael Kors flats, I rush out of my apartment to greet my man. Only… it’s not the Range Rover waiting to pick me up.
“No,” I whisper to myself when I see a lanky arm hanging out of a V8 Cadillac 2-door, holding a cigarette. “Marco?”
He scoffs and takes a drag. “C’mon, princess. The prom king awaits.”
I clam up terribly – all the warmth and joy sucked out of me as my mind bounces a million different directions. Is Castor okay? Did Marco sabotage him somehow? Is he late because of business? Oh my God, maybe he’s flaking?
I tentatively step down my stoop, then walk around Marco’s car the back way – incase his twitchy, coked-up foot hits the gas and runs me over or something. My eyes are glued to him as I open the door and hesitantly take my seat.
“Why?” is all I say.
“Mom’s orders.” He licks his teeth angrily. “Your boyfriend is really starting to piss me off.”
“Oh give it a rest.” I relax knowing no one’s in danger. Still, I have no idea what the heck is going on, but I’ll just go with it, I guess. My body instinctively curls up toward the window, as far away from my brother as possible. At least his nose isn’t pink from snorting too much.
He speeds off, making me grip the handle in fear. Why does he have to be so erratic in everything he does?
“I see you didn’t heed my warning,” Marco snarls. “Acting like every other girl that falls over us.”
My blood starts to boil. “I’m not falling for this again.”
“Again?” He snorts, taking another pull of his cigarette. “Like you would listen to anything I have to say. That’s why I always have to keep watch, ’cause you’re a dumbass fawn.”
“I have no idea why Castor invited you to this,” I sneer right back at him. “It was just supposed to be me, Mom, him, and Randy.”
“No skin off my fucking back. I’ll just drop your dumbass off and wait until he fucks up so I can pop him in the head.”
“Marco!”I’m horrified, thinking back to that driveway.
“It’s the truth.”
I turn to fully face him – mental guard up. “Tell me something. Has he done something that you know of while we were together?” I stare unblinkingly, to be sure and catch every little flinch.
His jaw clenches, and his lips twitch. Is he wrestling with his ‘bro code’ or something ridiculous? No, I don’t get that at all. He glances at me, analyzing my deadpan expression. I’m not going to cry or fall for any traps this time.
“Well?”
He shakes his head.
“I didn’t think so!” I push him. “So why don’t you give your best friend a chance with me? Huh?”
“’Cause I know him, Gia, better than anybody.”
“That might be true, but you don’t know if he can change. Or at the very least, you won’t give him the chance to.”
“Fuckin’ women can be real idiots sometimes.” He rests his elbow on the window pane.
“Men can be hotheaded pricks with no brain cells, but we have to live with each other, right?” I push him again.
“Whatever, Gia. Let’s just get this over with.”
We pull up to my mother’s quaint single-family home that Dad left when he passed. The front door and stoop are newly renovated – compliments of Marco – and the roof is next, but Mom doesn’t like to accept cash from her kids. It’s the old-school Italian way, never take from the young, only give. After Dad died, she used to cry that she wouldn’t have much to leave us, which is why I think Marco double and triple-downed on providing, despite his vices.
I take a long look at my brother after he shoves his car in park. He’s a tortured soul. No long-term girlfriends ever, no companionship outside of his mafia boys. ‘Hairtrigger,’ I mean, really? Can flip like a switch. Is that what you want to be known for?
The scars on his neck remind me of what he is – someone who skates by death by the skin of his teeth.
“You know I’m just looking out for my kid sister, right?” He stares forward, twitching his cheek.
I’m instantly disarmed, at a loss for words for how soft his tone is.
“That’s all this is.” He turns to me, his raspy hungover voice lingering now that the rumbling engine is off.
“I didn’t ask for it, Marco,” my voice is almost a whisper.
“Family doesn’t have to ask. We just do.” He opens the car door and flings himself out. I see a flash of his gun in the back of his pants, which makes me tremble in my seat.
Deep down I understand that he’s just looking out for me in his own sick way, but that doesn’t change the fact that I have to reconcile him with my king. Tonight is the night to do it.
I take a deep breath and follow my brother into the house. When I get inside, I’m shocked to see Castor in a polo shirt – muscles bulging out of it – and jeans, carrying dishes to the dining room table. My mouth remains open as I peek in the kitchen to see my mom with an ear-to-ear smile stirring the sauce.
What in actual f—
“Hey, Marco. Hey, sweetie.” Randy takes two tries to push himself off the couch, struggling to tear his eyes away from the baseball game.
Marco offers his hand, barely giving Randy a second of his time. Rude. Then turns straight for Castor.
“Going for son-in-law of the year, or something?”
Heat fills my cheeks. I’m giving Randy a hug hello, but all satellites are honed in on Castor’s reaction.
“Would that be your worst nightmare, or what?” Castor takes it in stride, wielding a giant smirk.
Mom walks out of the kitchen. I can’t miss this interaction for the world, so I pat Randy’s big arm and excuse myself.
“Oh I think it’s so nice that you two got together.” Mom rubs Castor’s huge back as he fixes the placemats. “I still think you got one too many tattoos, but we’ll let that slide. You’ve always been a good boy.”
“I’m pushing thirty-one, Missus Castellano.”
“Yeah, well you’re still a kid in my eyes. Running around the pool in the backyard with this grump.” She motions to Marco. “Good to see all of you together. Oh hi, pumpkin.” She turns to me, and I’m just standing there, at a loss.
“Hey, Momosa.” I open my arms for a hug.
She holds her cooking mittens out and walks right in. “Did you have a good shift at Bangos last night?”
“Mmhm.” I nod. I’m internally squealing right now. Even if murder is flashing through Marco’s head, we’re all still here, under one roof, about to enjoy a dinner together.
The house hasn’t felt packed since, well, Dad passed. Marco went off the rails, and we kind of all went our separate ways. Has Castor DeMatteo become the damn glue for our family?
“Okay, hun, you’ve done enough. Go take a seat there, next to Marco and your boo.” Mom gives him another motherly pat on the back once he lays the garlic breadbasket on the table.
“This brings back memories, doesn’t it?” Castor takes a seat and inches closer to the table.
Marco grunts and grabs a piece of bread to avoid reminiscing.
“Your mom would make us full-blown subway sandwiches, so we didn’t have to go spend our allowance. Twelve-inch meatball subs with mozzarella. Then we’d go beat the shit out of each other in the pool and call it ‘wrestling for the title.’”
“Not much has changed.” Marco points to the lingering scab under Castor’s eye.
I take my seat next to Castor, noting the updated wall panel and new painting hanging up across from me – right next to my senior high school photo. Castor’s in great spirits, like he really wants this to work. It makes me melt inside, so I grab his arm with both of mine and tug him in for a quick kiss.
“Do you have to do that shit in front of me?” Marco growls, and we both laugh at him.
“What? It’s just a little bit of young love.” Randy points his newspaper at us and slaps Marco lightly on the arm, taking his seat.
“C’mere for a second, I brought something I want you to see,” I say.
“Hm?” Castor lets me pull him by the hand into the living room, out of sight of the others.
“Just… stand still a second.” I hold my breath while unraveling my painting of him, watching his reaction. It’s deadpan, which makes a pit form in my stomach.
“Gia…” He takes it slowly from my grasp. “It’s fucking amazing.”
“Shh!” I say, unable to contain my smile. “Really?”
“So badass. Hands down, best gift anyone has ever gotten me.”
I melt inside, then more playfulness comes out. “Who said it was for you?”
He frowns. “Jerk.”
We both laugh as he gives me a big hug and continues to gush about my work.
“Okay, no more in front of the others. I’ll get embarrassed. Read the note later.” I blush as we head back to our seats.
“Dinner is served!” Mom comes out with a delicious-looking tray of ziti that makes my mouth water.
We all start digging in. Castor smacks my hand when I go for one of the spatulas and picks it up himself. He serves me, then in a sign of truce, serves my brother. Whatever’s left of my heart melts into the rest of my organs. I’m done.
“How cute is this?” Mom squint-smiles at us. “You know, the table used to feel bigger fifteen years ago.”
“It’s from all that spaghetti you fed us.” Castor taps his rock-hard stomach.
“Oh yeah, what’s my excuse?” Randy pats his round belly, and we all laugh. Well, Marco snickered, which I’ll take as a win.
“You know, I was getting worried that nobody would be good enough for this one’s baby sister.” Mom points her fork at Marco, then takes a big bite of her food. “I knew he might be the problem when he was even unsure about you.”
“Oh really?” Castor arcs his eyebrow. “What could he possibly have said about his oldest friend?”
“Oh, no, no, no.” She slaps at the air. “I won’t be lighting any fires at the table.”
The tone is light, and I feel like I’m in some surreal dream that’s playing out without me having to interact at all.
“No, no, it’s alright, Ma.” Marco waves her away, then hoots when she widens her eyes for him to stop. “I said you’re always too busy playing with your jewelry to ever take care of my sister.” He looks at his finger like he’s a girl ogling her diamond ring, and the whole table laughs.
Did my brother… just make a joke?
“Shut the heck up.” Castor pushes him, holding back all the curses he wants to hurl.
When the laughter dies, Randy wipes his mouth and nods at us. “So, how did you two meet up again? Did cupid over here give the shot.” He thumbs to Marco.
“He was more like Tony Montana,” I finally join the conversation, stealing one of Castor’s lines from way back.
“Hah!” Randy almost chokes, then stares at Marco. “I can kind of see it. Tony and Manolo, Italian style.”
Marco nods at Castor mock-threateningly.
“Nah, we met at the restaurant I work, Randy. He invited me to one of his private parties, and the rest is history.”
“That’s it? Did he read you a poem or something cute?”
He fingered me under the table.
I chuckle, but Randy thinks it’s because of the poem bit. “No, I wish,” I lie. “He was as gentlemanly as a brute like him could be, though. Bought me drinks and food. Watched out for me when boys acted a little out of control.”
“That’s a good boy.” Mom reaches over the table and pats Castor’s hand. “Protect my little girl.”
“Always,” he says with such conviction, it renders me into a puddle of mush.
The dinner goes on without a hitch. Every time Marco lightens up, he pulls back a bit to make sure Castor knows he’s not comfortable with him dating me, but actions speak louder than words in my mind. He’s here, next to us.
It’s perfect. No one can ruin this moment.
Crrcth!
The window in the living room shatters, and the last thing I see is a grenade-looking tube spitting smoke into my mother’s house.