Chapter 6 #2
Emilio is shuddering and gasping, but his tears have turned to fury. He slowly lifts his head and glares at my father. This idiot still hasn’t learned his lesson.
“Fuck you, Don Carlucci. I hope you burn in—”
He doesn’t have the chance to finish the sentence. Francesco Conti, one of Dad’s capos, draws his gun and shoots Emilio in the back of the head. He slumps forward and lies motionless as blood pools across the floor.
Emilio’s stupidity is a bitter taste in my mouth. His wife and his children are now unprotected because of his actions. He’s a pathetic excuse for a man.
With a nod from Dad, a couple of soldiers come forward and drag the body from the room.
Francesco notices me staring at the bloodstained wooden floor and claps me on the back. “Are you going to lose your guts, boy?”
I heard a whole house full of meth addicts screaming in pain as they burned alive, along with my sister Liliana. I hear their screams in my nightmares every night. I held a bleeding Lucy in my arms, terrified she was going to be taken from me as well.
A short, sharp death like Emilio’s isn’t going to rattle me.
I examine my bare forearms for red spatter. “Is there blood on me? I have a date now.”
Behind his desk, Dad smiles and lights a cigar. As smoke wreaths his head, he says proudly, “That’s my boy.”
Twenty minutes later, I meet Lucy in the entrance hall of the Barone mansion, and I pull her into my arms. I bury my face in her sweet-smelling hair and groan in relief. I’ve needed her ever since I pressed the red-hot iron into Emilio’s flesh. To reassure myself that she’s safe. Alive. Still mine.
The scent of burning flesh still clings to my nostrils, but Lucy’s perfume, floral and sweet, starts to wash it away.
As I pull back, I notice what she’s wearing for our night out. Jeans, and the tiniest handkerchief top I ever saw tied around her breasts. It exposes her midriff as well as some cleavage.
My eyes travel down her body slowly, drinking in every curve. She’s all grown up. When did that happen? When did Lucy become so…
I swallow hard.
Sexy.
I raise an eyebrow, trying to keep my voice light. “Looking to cause a riot tonight, sis?”
She puts her hand on her hip and pops it out, and the movement makes my mouth go dry. “Are you going to tell me to change?”
Telling her she can’t go out looking drop-dead gorgeous is like admitting I can’t protect her from other men, and it’s also admitting I can’t handle seeing her like this.
I can handle it. I can.
I step closer and tuck her hair behind her ear, my fingers lingering on the soft skin of her neck. “I can fight. Wear what you want.”
A pretty blush spreads over her cheeks as she smiles up at me, and a warm sensation expands in my chest.
I reach for her hand and hold it tight. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
I drive us to the coast with one hand on the wheel and the other resting on her thigh.
It’s a warm night, so we roll the windows down, and her curls dance in the breeze.
She tells me about school and her friends, and funny stories that make me laugh and forget about all the bloodshed today.
The way Emilio screamed, and the smell of burning flesh.
Lucy makes all of it fade away.
We end up at Giorgio’s Diner, a vibrant, old-fashioned place with red booths and a jukebox. All the kids from St. Peter’s and St. Agatha’s hang out here. As we enter, I take a quick look around.
Antonio and Giovanni catch my eye, friends I went to school with whose fathers are Dad’s capos.
Antonio’s father was the one who shot Emilio in the head.
Their knowing expressions tell me that they heard what went down tonight.
I’ll catch up with them later to discuss it when Lucy’s safely tucked up in bed.
My eyes keep moving. Ariana is in a booth, giggling with her friends over milkshakes.
Rafiel Lucania is in another booth with some friends, wearing a tight white T-shirt that shows off the ink covering his arms and throat, and his blond hair is shaved at the sides.
He’s a son of the Lucania don, who is currently serving a life sentence.
Their family is shattered, and their fortunes are low, but most damning of all, at least as far as Mom is concerned, is that the Lucanias are from the wrong side of the tracks.
Rafiel raises his chin to me in greeting, and I nod back. I don’t know what a Lucania is doing on Barone turf, but I don’t dislike the Lucanias, and he’s not unwelcome—if he behaves himself.
Lucy waves to a clutch of her friends across the room and slides into an empty booth. I slide in beside her, not in front of her, needing to be close. The smell of burning flesh is still lingering in my nostrils, and I’m not ready to be more than a foot away from her.
We order burgers and fries. Lucy gets ketchup on her finger and tries to put it on my nose. We tussle for a moment, and then she dabs it on her own nose. I lick it off, making her giggle.
My heart feels lighter than it has all day.
“What the fuck, Damiano?”
A shrill female voice cuts through our moment. I turn and see that there’s a young woman in a tight dress standing at the end of our booth.
“We had plans, and you stood me up to go out with someone else?”
Oh, right. I did make plans to go out tonight, but it was nearly a week ago, and I forgot. Between Emilio’s execution and thinking about Lucy, I have no room in my head for whatever her name is.
“Jessica, this is my sister, Lucy. Lucy, this is—”
The woman looks angrier than ever. “Who’s Jessica? I’m Faith.”
“Sorry. Lucy, this is Faith.”
“Hey, Faith.” Lucy’s fighting a smile, which annoys Faith even more.
“Don’t think I’m falling for that this is my sister crap.”
I level a dark gaze at her, and I see her flinch slightly. “Are you calling me a liar?”
Faith looks put out, and mutters, “Well, you two don’t look very brother-sisterly.”
Through a twist of fate, Lucy and I share similar facial features.
The same brown eyes, defined cheekbones, tilted-up noses, and Cupid’s-bow lips.
Our hair is curly, though mine is rich brown, and Lucy’s is golden.
The starkest difference between us is that I am tall and muscular while Lucy is small and slender, though people put that difference down to our genders.
But Faith isn’t talking about our looks. She’s annoyed that my arm is around Lucy’s bare waist. We look like brother and sister, but we’re not acting like she thinks a brother and sister should act.
My hand tightens on Lucy’s waist possessively. The other rests on the table, and Lucy covers it with her own. I turn my hand over so she can stroke my palm, and she meshes her fingers through mine.
The gesture is intimate and tender, and I don’t pull away.
“I’m busy, Jessica. I’ll call you later.”
“Don’t bother.” She strides off, calling over her shoulder, “You’re an asshole, Damiano Barone.”
“You called her Jessica again,” Lucy points out, amused.
“Oh, well.” I hold a fry to Lucy’s lips, and she bites into it. As she chews, I put the other half in my mouth.
“Did you call her the wrong name on purpose, or are you dating so many women that you can’t keep track?”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” I give her a sly smile. Is that a spark of irritation in Lucy’s eyes? Is my sister being as possessive over me as I am over her? She’s never been jealous before.
I think I like it.
“You torture me until I can’t breathe because I might have a date tonight, while apparently you’re out here being a—”
I grasp her shoulders suddenly and push her back against the diner wallpaper. She’s pinned in by the booth, the table, and me. “A what?” I whisper, a smirk on my lips, which are very close to hers. “What am I, sis?”
We’re so close that our bodies are pressed together. I can feel the heat of her skin through the thin fabric of her top. Her eyes narrow in playful accusation. “A troublemaker.”
I glance at her mouth, and those soft, pink lips, and then back up at her eyes. “Who, me? I’m the glue holding this family together.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” she says, and I feel her breath on my mouth. “The one I asked back at the house. Are we in the mafia?”
Fear makes my heart rate spike. I don’t know what Dad would do to us if he finds out that Lucy is asking dangerous questions. If she’s asking me, she might start asking other people, and if it gets back to him that Lucy can’t keep her mouth shut, I don’t like to imagine what might happen.
“We are out for a nice dinner. We are a brother and sister who love each other very much. We look out for each other no matter what. That’s what we are. What I do, what Dad does, you don’t have to worry about.”
A frustrated line forms between her brows. “Either we’re both in the mafia, or neither of us are. I’m your sister.”
“You’re my adorable, fierce, beautiful little sister.
” I rub the tip of my nose against hers, keeping my voice low.
“Who doesn’t ask questions about the mafia.
Malus is a dangerous city. Stay close to home, and don’t grow up too fast. I like knowing where you are all the time and that your life is school, your books, shopping, and your friends. ”
Her eyes flash with annoyance. “I’m sixteen. Why must you treat me like I’m still a child?”
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, my gaze running over her face. Because it’s comforting for me. Because if she stays innocent, she’s safe. Because I can’t bear the thought of my world touching her.
“This is the life I wanted for you when Mom and Dad came for us,” I remind her. “You have everything you want, and if there’s something more you need, I’ll get it for you. I just wish I’d realized back then…”
For a moment, the light in my heart dims.
Would I have agreed for us to be adopted by the Barones if I knew who our father really was?
No, I wouldn’t have. I would never have brought Lucy into such a dangerous family willingly.
But it’s too late now. I brought us into this world, so now it’s my job to shield Lucy from it.