Chapter 14
I’d learned techniques for suppressing anxiety and swallowing fear, but none of that seemed to work when I was confronted by the sweetest looking woman and she was feeding me her homemade tomato sauce, and it was delicious.
The sweet herby flavor coated my tongue, and as I was sent away into another room with Isaiah, Santo’s boyfriend, I kept sucking on my tongue to retaste the sauce.
“They’re actually doing a lot of good,” Isaiah said as we stood around in a room filled with shelves of trinkets: snow globes, statuettes, and trophies.
“Huh?”
He laughed. “The first time I came here, I was scared a little bit too,” he said. “Maybe not like you, you know, since you’re—”
“Oh, so everyone knows?” I tugged at the collar of my shirt. “I’m sweating.”
“You have nothing to worry about now, though,” he said. “They like you.”
Gnawing at the edge of my lip, I continued to scan the shelves. “I hope,” I mustered.
“They fund a lot of community projects, stuff the government says they don’t have the money for,” Isaiah continued. “So if this is some long investigation job, just know that if you’re trying to destroy the family, what you’re doing it destroying the community.”
I turned to him on a heel. His lip quivered. It was almost like he’d been told to tell me it. And I didn’t blame him. He probably had a cushioned life, and I couldn’t lie that I would’ve enjoyed the cushion if it had been offered up to me as well—especially before joining the agency.
“They’re opening a community center, and I’m gonna make sure it’s focused on LGBTQIA people,” he continued.
“That’s good,” I said. “And trust me, I’m not trying to do anything—anymore.”
He laughed nervously, pulling at a small plush bear hooked on the loop of his trousers. “I actually don’t know much about you,” he said.
“Kalen,” I said, holding my hand out to him. “Is that a Sublime teddy? I have one just like it.”
He revealed it, stroking his thumb over the face. “Yeah,” he said. “It’s my comfort keyring, though. Since I can’t carry the big one around.”
“I actually have a collection at my apartment, back in New York,” I told him. “I’ve got a lot of the anniversary editions. They’re still in their boxes.”
Isaiah gasped. “No freaking way.”
“Yes freaking way.”
“Did we just become friends?” he asked, laughing.
We didn’t even need to mention what we were, because we both just knew. “Maybe we’ll need to set up play date,” I said, and there it was, the confirmation we were littles.
He raised his hand and I high-fived him.
* * *
The dining table was long with two fancy candlestick holders and a cream with gold trim table runner going down the entire length of it. I sat beside Rocco, Isaiah sat across from me beside Santo, and their Mom and Nonna each took an end of the table.
Dinner made me feel like I was part of a family, in a way they depicted on TV shows and movies.
It was the type of atmosphere that made the world around me glow.
I didn’t want it to end, or any of the small talk to stop.
It was all fun, nobody mentioned me being a federal agent, and nobody talked about what was going on with their other brother.
It was all nice—but maybe that was the red wine.
Rocco turned to me, his finger beneath my lip, pulling my mouth open. “I like it when your lips look all red and swollen,” he whispered, leaning in for a kiss.
I couldn’t see my own lips, but since I’d seen how Isaiah’s and his mom’s lips looked, I could tell they were nice and red. Rocco was drinking scotch and large glasses of water—I hoped, otherwise I couldn’t see him getting up from the table.
“Do they taste any different?” I asked, puckering my lips for him.
Everyone was in their own conversations, doing their own thing as we finished eating the amazing pasta dish with sauce and the additional carbs of the bread.
But I couldn’t help thinking of my mom, who was alone at home, probably forgetting to eat again, and maybe Rocco had the same thought or he was reading my mind.
“Before we head to the restaurant for tonight’s game, we should take something over to your mom,” he said. “I’ve already had some boxed up for her.”
My jaw clenched as I smiled at him. How could I have come all the way to Boston, trying to find a reason for work to let me stay, only to end up falling for the guy I was supposed to be getting dirt on. “She’ll like that, I think.”
“Oh, I know she will,” he said, winking at me. “Mom said she’ll even throw in a jar of the homemade gravy for her.”
“She’ll never use it,” I whisper, trying not to offend anyone who listened. “Not on purpose, but she’ll just forget.”
His mom chimed in. “It could be used as a soup,” she said. “Warmed through, add in some croutons maybe. It’s versatile.”
“I’m not,” Santo shouted with a loud boom of his voice.
It appeared everyone had been listening in.
Maybe they were just being nice, trying to make sure they knew I couldn’t get away with whispering to anyone—and again, I wanted to remind them I wasn’t going to even try.
It was evident they had someone on the inside, and Isaiah pitched all the positives to their bookies, rackets, and whatever other money laundering operations they had going on.
And even though this seemed like public knowledge, nobody cared.
Rocco left the table with Santo for a moment after that, leaving the four of us behind where we mostly complimented the food and how nice the house was, then Rocco’s mom tapped her knuckles on the table for my attention.
“So, how long have you been in the agency?” she asked.
“Right, you’re in the FBI.”
“It’s not glamorous, or dangerous,” I said. “I’m an analyst. I have a desk job, mostly. I went through training, sure, but I’m mostly at a desk, looking through stuff.” I shrugged.
“Rocco tells me you’re here for your mom,” she said.
I didn’t know when he’d told her, but I hated people knowing.
It was a vulnerability I didn’t want to show, my underbelly, exposed to the entire family.
Even if I was forced to flip for whatever reason, just knowing that they knew about how much my mom needed me would have me rather bite my tongue off than say anything.
In the quiet, as I panicked in thought, she offered me a sweet smile.
“I think that’s sweet. My sons all come home, every weekend.
And when they don’t, or they miss a week, then there’s trouble to pay.
” She smiled, but I knew she was serious.
“That’s why Tomaso is where he is,” their nonna said.
We’d all had a little to drink now, and that had made a lot of lips loose.
“Being partnered to someone in this family can be a tough job,” Rocco’s mom continued.
“It’s not for the weak. But I know neither of you are weak.
Isaiah mellows and evens out Santo, and you—well, I’m still trying to figure that out.
Rocco has always been, well, Rocco.” She paused, where I thought she might’ve mentioned him being adopted, but she never did.
Nobody ever mentioned it. “I don’t suppose you’re going to quit? ”
I shook my head. “Not right now,” I said.
“Honestly, I love my work.” It was almost a confession of what I’d tried to do, but she probably already knew.
I don’t think Rocco kept anything from his mom, unlike me.
I kept a lot from her. “And it’s tied to my health insurance and stuff, so I’m trying to keep it. ”
“Right, right,” she said, taking her glass of red wine. “Rocco mentioned something about going to the hospital. I hope everything is alright.”
“Hope she’s okay,” Isaiah tuned in, and their nonna added her concerns into the mix.
“She’s got some breathing problems, and memory stuff, mood swings.” I unloaded on them, and the weight of it left my shoulders. “So I need to be around to make sure she gets to her appointments, and then I can think about my future.”
She offered support with my mom, just like they all did. I could tell they were the type of family to throw money at anything, but if you stole from them, I imagined your life would end. It was strange being on the inside of something I was usually analyzing over paper and video security clips.
When Rocco came back, the dinner was over, and we needed to head to Palazzo to prepare for the game. I really didn’t know much about it, and everything I did know confused me. The only time I’d ever played poker was on the mobile apps they promoted heavily in ads, and you played with virtual cash.
I was given three jars of the famous Bianchi sauce in a tote bag, and a kiss on the cheek. I felt embraced and loved in that moment, but I met it with the feeling of impending doom or disaster. I knew that wasn’t coming, but my stomach felt like it.
Roland was all smiles when we got to the car, tipping his head and opening the door for us. I stood in the gravel driveway, staring at the large house in all its cream limestone, like a castle, with a basement cellar, and I could only imagine the horrors that went down in there.
“Come on,” Rocco said. “I wanna get there before Santo.”
Roland took the tote bag from me and placed it in the trunk. The only time I’d felt this type of connection was when I was in vicinity of my superiors and they’d had their assistants, silent but there at all times for absolutely anything.
Rocco tugged on my arm, pulling me into his embrace in the back of the car. He smushed his lips to mine, but the smell of the sweet scotch and the leather car interior just weren’t enough to dispel the feeling that something bad was going to happen.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I—” I sat and let him buckle me in, and his hand rubbed down across me. I liked that he was now the one eager to rub against me. “I—” As my feelings processed and digested themselves, I understood where they came from. “I don’t want to lose my job, or get in trouble for this.”
“You’re not going to,” he said, taking my sweaty palm and rubbing his hand against it. “You’re not going to lose your fancy job, I promise. And you’re not doing anything illegal. All you’re doing is watching.” He winked at me.
The blacked-out car windows added a certain anxiety to the entire situation. I looked out the window at everything cast in the dark filter. Then back to Rocco. His eyes had been fixed on me. “You’ll protect me.”
He leaned in and kissed me. “I’ll protect you, to the ends of the earth and back,” he said.
“You’re going to be ok.ay And as much as I want to take credit for being able to protect you, I think all that training you went through would be for nothing if I didn’t acknowledge your ability to protect yourself. ”
I giggled. “I can, a little, but that doesn’t mean I don’t need someone to protect me.
” I loved the idea of being able to let my guard down long enough to have Rocco protect me at my most vulnerable, when I was in little space—and I was going to get more time to be little if he really meant what he promised.
“After tonight’s game, and we’ve taken your mom to her appointment, I’d like to see your space in New York,” he said.
“We,” I nearly snorted.
Swaying in the back seat from Roland’s driving, Rocco wasn’t buckled into his seat, his heavy body pushing into my thighs. He gripped me for support, chuckling at how we’d become pressed to each other.
“Yes, we,” he said. “I’m invested now.” He winked at me.
He made me feel so tiny and small, in the best way possibly. I wanted to climb onto his lap and be carried inside his pocket.