Chapter 4 Jamie
JAMIE
Ilooked down at the row of numbers I had transferred from my arm to a piece of paper.
There was still a faint smudge from the ink where Reign had marked me, despite the vigorous scrubbing I had done.
All I had to show for it was sore, raw skin rubbed red.
Two days had passed since my interaction with him. He was so much more than I had imagined.
And I had imagined what he would be like since that night when our eyes first met.
But when he was sitting close to me, so close I could feel his body heat radiating toward me in waves, and the energy he seemed to have sucked up just from being there…
I almost felt suffocated.
And he wanted me to buy him dinner.
Why the fuck would he want me to buy him dinner?
Shouldn’t it be the other way around?
I wasn’t so stuck on traditional gender roles that I thought a man should always pay, but the way he had worded it, the way he gave me his number without asking for mine, leaving the decision up to me, made it feel as if I was… wooing him.
My cheeks flushed at the thought.
I didn’t want to woo him.
I didn’t even want him close to me. The man was dangerous—that much was obvious, but he was also bad for me.
And my life was complicated enough right now without inviting someone like Reign Mahankov into it.
And if Dad found out Reign had given me his number…
He would blow a gasket. No one would want to be around when that happened, even me.
I shuddered from the thought.
Everything in me said to throw the phone number away.
Walk away.
Everything would be better for me.
Then, my phone lit up with a text notification from Preston. I didn’t bother looking at the message. My eyes were focused on the picture I had set as my wallpaper.
It was Etta and me at a summer carnival when we were both twenty-two.
Despite having family members so heavily entrenched in the Caparelli Famiglia, we had been pretty na?ve when we were young.
We thought we were invincible.
We thought nothing bad could ever happen to us, simply because bad things were something that only happened to other people.
And because we had each other.
But I didn’t have her anymore.
A sharp pain formed in the center of my heart, and tears blurred my vision.
I thought after three months of crying myself to sleep every night that I would be all cried out.
That wasn’t the case at all.
It appeared I still had some tears left.
I quickly wiped them away and grabbed my phone.
Anger and sadness waged a war inside me, and I didn’t know which to let win.
I wasn’t thinking when I typed the number I had already memorized into the message box. I quickly typed in the word “Hi,” before moving my thumb over to the send icon, hesitating for only a quick second before pressing it.
The message was sent instantly, and there was no space for regret. I couldn’t get it back, even if I wanted to.
And no more than ten seconds later, my phone beeped with a new notification.
Reign had messaged me back.
My eyes burned from lack of sleep as I walked into the small coffee shop.
Preston was already there, waiting for me with a black Americano—my coffee of choice.
His face lit up as he stood when he saw me approaching.
I tried to smile, but I was sure it didn’t reach my eyes. There weren’t a lot of things I found worth smiling about in the last three months, and today was no exception.
Preston didn’t try to hug me, though his fingers did twitch when I got close, almost as if he wanted to reach out and touch me.
He knew I didn’t like to be touched by anyone.
Etta was the only one I could have near me without feeling like a million little ants were crawling all over my body.
But Etta was gone.
And it was just me in a world filled with people I didn’t want close to me.
“Hey,” I said, sitting down on the chair across from him.
He stood there for a long, awkward moment before he sat back down.
His eyes moved over my face, probably taking note of the dark creases under my eyes.
I should have worn more foundation. I hadn’t slept since Reign messaged me back with a simple “Hi.”
He didn’t ask who I was.
He knew it was me, and it sounded almost like he had been expecting me. As if my making the first move to buy him dinner was a foregone conclusion. As if it was the only expected outcome.
I didn’t respond.
And he didn’t text me back.
“Thanks for the coffee,” I said, taking a sip of the nearly lukewarm liquid, working hard not to make a face. I wished he hadn’t bought it for me. I could have done that, and maybe now I would be drinking hot coffee instead of this mess.
I didn’t voice that thought. I forced the liquid down my throat and offered him another smile.
He seemed happy with that, taking a sip of his own drink. “It’s been so long since we’ve done this, I was starting to think you were going to ignore me forever.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” I said. “I’ve just been busy.”
It was his turn to shoot me a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He didn’t believe my words, and I didn’t blame him.
But he was right. The last time we met for coffee was a little more than three months ago… and Etta had been with us.
I didn’t say that, and neither did he.
Although Preston wasn’t part of any crime organizations or gangs, he didn’t exactly come from a happy family either.
Etta and I had met him at the carnival, where we had taken that picture.
He had been like a lost little puppy, not knowing his place in the world. I liked that in a world of complication and darkness, he was the complete opposite of that, and for a brief moment in time, I thought he could be mine.
I liked the fact that he wasn’t a part of my world. He could be my something normal—the way I knew he wanted to be—but there was always something missing there.
And no matter how much comfort I found in his presence, I couldn’t bring myself to get used to his touch.
And he deserved someone who would not only want his touch but also crave it.
Things were even more awkward without Etta.
I hadn’t realized how much effort I put into just living because Etta wouldn’t let me rot away in my small corner of the world. But with her gone…
I didn’t see a purpose in trying anymore.
Not even with Preston.
“I know you’re sad,” he said suddenly, surprising me. I looked up and met his eyes. They were soft and understanding and… rage-inducing.
My fist clenched tightly on my lap. I looked away from him and out the window, watching as people hurried along, trying to get out of the cold. There was a slight fluttering of snow falling.
“I know you just want to push everything away and not see anyone anymore.”
I shook my head, not replying.
He let out a small sigh. “I’m sad too, Jamie. She was also my friend. But I know she wouldn’t want us to be like this. To treat her death as something—”
“She’s gone, Preston. There’s no ‘wouldn’t want’ for anything. She is just—gone. And that’s all there is to it.”
“I didn’t mean—”
I shook my head, cutting him off. “I know you didn’t. I know you’re worried about me, but you don’t have to be. I’m fine.”
“Are you?”
“Yes, I’m going to work.”
“That’s it?”
I looked down at the table in front of me, my eyes tracing along the tacky, colorful pattern there. “I’m going on a date this Saturday.”
I looked up in time to see the pain in Preston’s eyes. I ignored that, pretending I didn’t know I was breaking his heart, and plastered on a fake smile.
“Who with?” he asked casually, his earlier worry about me vanishing.
“You don’t know him,” I said.
“How did you meet? Does your brother know? Your father?”
“Preston,” I said sharply. “What’s with the third degree?”
He grimaced. “Sorry. I’m just worried about you.”
I shook my head. “You don’t need to. I am my father’s daughter, after all.”
And if there was anything I had learned from being Davide Caparelli’s daughter, it was to be cautious.
I wished he had taught me to be fearless instead.
I took another big sip of the horrid coffee and stood up. “I should probably go.”
“Already? You just got here.”
“I’m sorry. I thought I was ready to go out and have fun. But I… I’m not there yet. I’m not ready to move on with my life without her.”
I know I was contradicting myself when I just told him I was going on a date… but if he caught on, he didn’t show it.
His shoulders sagged in disappointment. He looked like he wanted to say something, but thankfully, he kept his mouth shut.
He nodded instead.
I smiled, a small but genuine smile this time, and then walked out the door.
I got to my car and turned it on, waiting for it to heat up.
I took in a deep breath, watching the snowfall until it hit my windshield and instantly melted, then grabbed my phone from my purse and opened the messaging app.
Reign’s last text to me flashed in and out.
I stared at the word “Hi” for so long, my vision blurred.
Shaking my head, I locked my phone and pulled out of the parking lot, heading straight for the bar, where I knew both my father and brother would be.
The bar was a brown, ugly building in one of the city’s worst neighborhoods.
It was the shape and color that made it ugly—and, more than anything else, an eyesore.
In this part of the state, the Caparelli Famiglia reigned over the territory, and most of the smaller gangs around knew not to touch it.
I got out and walked inside the building.
A big man stood outside the metal door, seemingly unaffected by the cold weather.
He recognized me on sight and moved out of the way for me to enter.
Most of my dad’s men waved and smiled at me.
I looked around the ample space that had been used as a gathering for my father’s men, as well as where shady business deals were made.
I smiled back, though I knew better than to trust their smiles.
I wasn’t stupid.
They were only nice to me because they feared my dad and brother more than their need to revert to their natural state of cockiness and misogyny.