Chapter 14
Luciano
I’m anxious. Fuck that. I’m more than anxious. I’m fucking nervous.
Last Friday, something changed between Frankie and I. I’m not sure what, but I felt it, and so did she. That’s why she all but ran back to the orphanage instead of hanging out back at my house.
I can’t quite put my finger on what happened between us, only that our dynamic has shifted into something… more.
She said she’d never had a real friend before, and I told her I’d be her first. But the thing is… that’s not the only first I want. I crave all her firsts. And that shit is doing my head in.
Usually, Frankie has to wait for me by St. Mary’s fountain so I can drive us to Jude’s apartment for tutoring. However, I skipped my last class today just to be the first one to arrive.
I tried to spot her in the halls all day, but it was like she vanished into thin air. The only time I saw her was during mass this morning—right after Enzo’s new fuck buddy announced to the whole school that the assholes who dared to lay a finger on Anna had bit the dust.
Though I didn’t have a hand in their demise, I knew it was coming. No way in hell was Marcello going to let what they tried to do to Anna slide.
I’m sure Anna knew it, too, even if she didn’t want to admit it to herself. She begged us not to get the parents involved, knowing damn well our fathers would’ve made those two boys—and their families—suffer. But if she thought she could keep Marcello on a tight leash, she was dead wrong.
As I sit on the fountain’s edge, eager for the final bell to ring, it’s no surprise when my brother heads toward me.
Poor Anna. She’s going to have Marcello’s shadow until she graduates.
“Hey,” I greet as he drops to sit down beside me. Marcello just gives a curt nod in greeting. “You here for Anna?” He nods again. “Figured,” I say. “Just FYI—the whole school knows those assholes took a dirt nap over the weekend. Anna included.”
“And your point?” he asks, his voice like gravel.
“My point, dear brother, is that I wouldn’t want to be you in the car ride home. Or when Anna rats you out to Stella. Nice touch making it look like an accident, by the way.” Marcello’s lips tug into a crooked smile at my remark.
“Who do you think came with me?”
Shit. I should’ve known. With Marcello’s bloodlust and Stella’s sense of revenge, those two poor fuckers were dead before they even laid a finger on Annamaria.
“Is this how you plan to lead the Outfit one day? Just kill any asshole who rubs you the wrong way?” I half-joke.
Marcello turns his head, leveling me with a serious look, and says, “If I were you, I’d be more concerned with doing your actual homework about the Outfit before you take the omertà . Because if you did, you’d know our father has done worse to men who think they’re entitled to a woman’s body. Our mom, too.”
I swallow dryly because I can see the truth of his statement in his eyes. Not that I’m surprised. We’ve all heard the stories of how our mom killed her own father, The Butcher, out of revenge for the hell she and her mother endured under his rule. How she didn’t hesitate in gutting my dad’s nemesis, Cyro, before he could kill him or Jude. I guess rightful vengeance and blood on your hands is the Romano way.
Funny how some of my siblings are more inclined to follow in our parents’ footsteps than I am. Jude kills without feeling remorse since he believes it’s all part of the job. Stella gets a thrill out of using her daggers on those she can get away with killing without getting in trouble with the Capo dei Capi. And Marcello… fuck. I think he enjoys watching the light fade from his victims’ eyes.
“Don’t worry about me,” I say when his gaze stays pinned on me for a little too long as if trying to read my soul or some shit. “I’ll be ready when the time comes.”
He turns away, bowing his head, his gaze now fixed on the ground.
“Maybe you should reconsider taking it,” he says quietly, sounding more like the brother who used to push Enzo and me on the backyard swing set than the monster the Outfit created. “Not everyone’s built for this life.”
“Fuck you. I am the life,” I chuckle, trying to lighten the mood.
“No, Lucky. You’re not,” he deadpans. “I don’t think you have it in you to take a life. And even if you did, their faces would haunt you. I doubt you’d be able to sleep at night with blood on your hands.”
“How do you sleep then?” I throw back at him.
“Who says I do?” he returns, lifting his head, his pale eyes so full of sadness it feels like someone just sucker punched me in the gut.
“Marcello,” I start, desperate to understand why he’s so damn mercurial all the time, flipping from psycho to the sensitive brother I grew up with in the blink of an eye. It’s almost as if he can’t decide who he wants to be.
Before I can get another word out, the final bell rings, and a flood of kids in their navy uniforms spills through the main doors, shattering the moment.
Marcello stands, scanning the crowd like a hawk, searching for Anna. But it’s not our sister we see first. It’s my girl.
Yeah, I said it. Sue me. For all intents and purposes, Frankie is mine. At least for the foreseeable future, anyway.
Unfortunately, instead of flashing me one of her sassy smiles, there’s a scowl on her gorgeous face and it’s aimed straight at Marcello.
“Hi,” she says, reaching us, trying her best not to fidget in place. “You’re early for a change.” The last part’s meant for me, but her eyes are still locked on my brother, and I don’t know why the fuck it pisses me off so much, but it does.
I’m secure in what I bring to the table, but I know some girls prefer the dark, broody, tortured type over a cocky asshole like me.
Needing to remind her exactly who she came here for, I throw an arm around her waist, tugging her in close, and press a kiss on her cheek.
“There’s my girl,” I murmur. “You ready to bounce?” That finally snaps her out of it.
“Huh… I guess,” she says, blinking up at me like I’ve grown a second head. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Never better.” I flash her a smile.
“See ya, Mar,” I add, starting to lead Frankie away, only for my pain-in-the-ass brother to step in front of us, blocking the path.
“Before you go,” he says, his gaze fixed on my girl, “I just want to thank you for what you did for Anna the other day. It’s nice to know someone’s got her back at school.”
“Hey, what am I? Chopped liver?” I snark.
Marcello arches a brow at me. “Did you even know Anna was being bullied at school?”
Well, he’s got me there. Maybe Stella’s right when she says my head’s so far up my own ass that I don’t see what’s happening around me. Truth is, I never thought anyone would mess with Anna just because of her last name. Guess these assholes at Sacred Heart need a little reminder about who the fuck they’re dealing with.
“No. I didn’t,” I admit. “But that shit won’t happen again. Enzo and I will make sure the word gets out that she’s off-limits. Or else. ”
Marcello’s tense shoulders relax at my promise, only for Frankie, in turn, to stiffen in my hold.
“I’ll keep an eye on her, too,” Frankie chimes in. “I don’t think she has many friends at school. I know how lonely that can be.”
Fuck. How come I didn’t know Anna was having such a hard time? Maybe I am a shitty brother.
Still, I don’t have time to add anything to that because Marcello decides to step closer to Frankie, gratitude softening his face, and says, “I know the feeling,” offering her a timid smile.
When Frankie smiles back, something inside me yells to cut their little fucking moment right in half.
“We’re late,” I say, my voice clipped, jealousy clinging to every word.
“You’re right. Nice seeing you again, Marcello,” she says politely.
“You too,” he smiles back. Still, before I’m able to get past him, he directs his gaze on my girl one more time. “Do you have any plans for Thanksgiving? I’m sure our mother would love it if you could spend the holiday with us.”
“I don’t know,” she hesitates, biting her lip. “I’d have to ask Mother Superior.”
“I’ll make sure Mom talks to her.” He throws her a smile that has my hand itching to slap his face.
“Then how can I say no to that?” She giggles.
Frankie. Giggling. At Marcello. Kill me the fuck now!
Annamaria must have just walked through Sacred Hearts doors since Marcello’s attention shifts behind us, no longer looking so damn chummy.
“I’ll see you then.” And with that, he leaves without so much as a goodbye.
The fuck is that about? Last month, Marcello was telling me to get rid of Frankie, and now he wants to be… what? Her BFF?
Fuck that.
I pull my hand away from her waist, threading my fingers through hers instead, and drag her off to the parking lot, away from my older brother.
When we get to the car, I yank open the door, pissed beyond measure. As much as I want to slam it, I don’t. Instead, I fume my way around to the driver’s side and slam my own door shut. I don’t even look at her as I lean in and help her with her seatbelt, something that’s usually one of the highlights of my damn day. Now, Marcello’s ruined it with his dead eyes and fucking shy charm.
I jam the key into the ignition, but before I can turn it, Frankie grabs my hand and yanks it out.
“What’s your problem?” I snap.
“ You! You’re my problem!” she yells back. “If you think I’m going to let you drive while you’re this mad, you’ve got another thing coming!”
“I’m not mad,” I bite out.
“Oh, really? Tell your face that!”
I lean my head back against the leather headrest and close my eyes, trying to get my temper under control.
“Where were you today?” I ask once I can trust myself not to blow up.
“What do you mean?”
I turn my head toward her, confusion stamped all over her pretty face.
“I mean, where the fuck were you, Frankie? I looked all over school for you. And couldn’t find you anywhere.”
“Why were you looking for me?”
Why?
Is she seriously asking me that?
Do you have an answer for her? my conscience taunts.
Fuck you, I mutter back internally.
Because no. I don’t have an answer. All I know is that I needed to see her. Be near her. In any fucking capacity.
When I don’t say anything, her own rage starts to simmer down.
“Sister Margarette asked me to help out at St. Mary’s Cathedral,” she says quietly. “We’re doing all the Thanksgiving prep now, so once the funerals are over Wednesday evening, they can set everything up without scrambling. I missed most of my morning classes because of it.”
“Oh,” I mumble, feeling like a jackass.
“But it’s not like you didn’t see me all day,” she adds. “You saw me at chapel this morning.”
“That wasn’t enough,” I admit, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. However, instead of melting into my touch, her expression turns serious.
“Looks like karma had a way of dealing with those boys that messed with your sister.”
I pull my hand back, leaning into my seat, turning my face away from her penetrating gaze.
“Guess so,” I say curtly, shoving the key into the ignition again.
This time, Frankie doesn’t stop me. She lets me drive us to our little piece of solitude, away from all the madness that comes from being a Romano.