Chapter 4
“I can’t believe your parents let you come.”
I smile at Emily, who’s been my best friend since kindergarten. Her family doesn’t run in the same circles as mine, nor are they as concerned about security, so it’s rare that Mamá and Papá give me permission to spend the night. But this is a special occasion, and I begged and pleaded, using every trick under the sun, as the Daddy’s girl I am.
“You only turn ten once,” I tell her, repeating one of the many arguments I gave Papá.
I toss and turn on my childhood bed, the expensive sheets wrapping around my legs as the nightmare shifts.
“It’s almost time for lights out, girls.”
“Okay, Dad,” Emily says, and we both giggle.
There’s no way we’re going to sleep yet. The sugar high we’re riding hasn’t had a chance to run its course.
“I mean it, Em,” he says through the door, but his tone is calm and easy-going. “Tomorrow’s a big day.”
“We understand, Mr. Roth,” I call out as I hop off the bed. “Lights out.” I scurry to the door and flip the light switch on the wall next to it, shrouding the room in darkness. Fortunately, Emily sleeps with a nightlight, so I’m able to see my way back to my friend.
“‘Night,” Mr. Roth calls, and his footsteps thud on the hardwood floor as he walks down the hallway to the big bedroom.
We both crawl under the covers, comfortable sharing her double bed, and a few minutes pass before we turn on the flashlight she keeps in her room.
“Now what?” I ask.
Emily rolls to her side and shines the light under her chin. “Ghost stories?”
I nod enthusiastically, and we spend the next hour telling the scariest tales we can conjure. Unfortunately, neither of us has any idea of the horrors that await us tomorrow.
Shivering in my sleep, I flip onto my stomach and tug the fluffy comforter around my shoulders.
Music fills the skating rink, and Emily and I hold hands as we clumsily roll our way around the floor. Twenty-five kids from our class were invited to her birthday party, and all of them showed up. There’s only an hour left until parents will start to arrive as the party ends, and we’re making the most of every second.
“What song did you request?” she asks as we round the corner, almost colliding with Joey and Seth, two of our classmates.
I grin. “You’ll see.”
Less than a minute later, the music shifts, and Emily’s face lights up. “I lov—”
Bang!
Bang!
“Everyone on the ground,” a man shouts after the echo of the gunshots subsides. “Now!”
Screams fill the air as chaos ensues. Emily tries to skate toward her dad, but I drop to my knees, pulling her down with me. I’ve been taught enough about guns and bad men to know when running isn’t an option.
“Stay down,” I whisper, doing my best to keep my own fear at bay. “If we do what they say, we won’t get hurt.” Or so I’ve been told.
It doesn’t take long for me to realize that everything I’ve been taught is a lie. Big black boots stop inches from my face, but before I can lift my head to get a good look at the person wearing them, Emily is grabbed by the hair and dragged out of my reach.
I scramble after the pair, but a hand wraps around my ankle and pulls me in the opposite direction. After what feels like an eternity, I’m shoved into a corner by a giant man dressed in all black, and the soulless eyes peering at me through the slit in his mask send fear down my spine.
“Stay put,” he growls as he presses the flat part of his knife against my cheek. “I’d hate to ruin such beauty, but I will if you don’t listen.”
I nod absently, not wanting to anger this monster more than he was before he walked into a kid’s birthday party with his buddies and weapons. He stares at me for a long time, and when his eyes swirl into light blue pools of liquid heat, I’m flung through time and space until I land in the back of a pickup truck with a camper shell and a hard body surrounding me.
“Goliath?”
Bolting upright, my breath seesaws in and out of my lungs, and sweat trickles down my back. I yank my hand from its spot nestled between my legs and quiver with lingering need.
“Who’s Goliath?”
I whip my head toward my bedroom door and groan when my cousin, Enzo, pushes off the doorframe and strides toward me with a knowing smirk on his stupid face.
“What?” I ask, doing my best to feign confusion and failing miserably.
Enzo flops down next to me and kicks his feet up like he owns the place. We were always close, and I love him dearly, but right now, I want to beat the shit out of him.
“One minute you’re tossing and turning like you’re scared to death,” he says casually. “And the next, you’re moaning the name Goliath.”
“N-No, I wasn’t.”
“Lie to yourself all you want, but don’t lie to me.” When I don’t say anything, he sighs. “I wondered if the nightmares would start back up.”
An involuntary shudder wracks my body. Enzo tries to wrap his arm around my shoulders, but I scoot away from him and get to my feet.
“I need a shower,” I announce as I traipse to my dresser to grab clean clothes. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”
For a moment, I think he’s going to argue, but he surprises me when he stands and crosses the room.
“Welcome home, Alex.” Enzo kisses my cheek.
As soon as I’m alone, I make my way into the adjoining bathroom and lock the door behind me. I lean my hands on the counter and take in my reflection. The cut on my cheek is a stark reminder of what triggered my dreams of Emily and that horrible Saturday that changed my life and ended hers.
“Why?” I whisper to the girl in the mirror. She doesn’t answer, but I don’t expect her to. I’ve asked and asked and asked the same question a million times over the years, and I’ve long since given up on any resolution that’ll make it all make sense. “Fuck you,” I snap at the grown woman who still carries the invisible scars of a little girl forced to grow up way too fast. “Fuck you and your memories.”
I strip out of my clothes and step into the tiled shower. It takes a minute for the water to adjust to the right temperature, and as soon as the warmth cascades over me, I begin to relax for the first time since the shooting at the hospital.
Unfortunately, it doesn’t last because simply thinking about the hospital brings a certain sexy biker to mind. An image of Goliath flashes in my brain, and almost instantly, I’m consumed with desperation to recreate the feeling of him filling me so completely.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Rather than debate with myself, I flatten my hand on my stomach and slide it down until the tips of my fingers are barely kissing my clit. Using my free hand, I brace myself against the wall. Every nerve ending buzzes with anticipation as I move my fingers ever so slightly downward.
“Mmm,” I moan, letting my head fall back.
It doesn’t take long for my body to convulse with release, and I make quick work of finishing my shower and getting ready for the day.
“There she is,” Mamá says with a wide smile. “I was beginning to think you were going to sleep the day away.”
Resisting the urge to point at the clock on the microwave and remind her that it’s only eight-thirty, I let her engulf me in a hug. “Morning,” I say.
“Coffee’s fresh, and there’s an omelet in the warming oven for you.”
“Thanks.”
I step around her to reach into the top cupboard for a coffee mug, but Enzo gently nudges me out of the way. “Go eat. I’ll get your caffeine.”
I smile gratefully and do as I’m told. Once I’m seated at the small table tucked into the breakfast nook, I dig into my food.
“Creamer, sugar, and a dash of coffee,” Enzo says as he sets a steaming mug of go-juice in front of me. “Just the way you like it.”
“Thanks,” I mumble.
“Alessandra Allegrini, don’t talk with your mouth full,” Mamá scolds.
I swallow and smile sheepishly. “Yes, ma’am.”
“So, what’s new with you?” Enzo asks, sitting across from me. “Other than meeting a man.”
Practically choking, I violently cough until my throat is clear.
“A man?” Mamá asks as she takes the chair next to mine. “You didn’t tell me you met someone.”
“Because there’s nothing to tell.” I glare at Enzo, who simply shrugs.
Smug bastard.
“You didn’t tell me about a man.”
I swivel my head to look at my father, who’s walking across the kitchen with the newspaper tucked under his arm and his cell phone grasped in his hand.
“Because there’s nothing to tell,” I repeat.
“Well,” Papá begins. “That’s good because a relationship will just make your move home messy.”
“I told you,” I snap. “I’m not mov—”
“It’s too early to be arguing,” Mamá comments, and if looks could kill, my father would be a bloody heap of death on the pristine kitchen floor. “There will be plenty of time to work out all the details over the next week. For now, I just want to enjoy my daughter being home.”
The next fifteen minutes pass in a weird silence. Papá alternates between reading the paper and responding to emails on his cell while Mamá watches me eat like she’s afraid I’ll disappear if she takes her eyes off me.
After I take my dishes to the sink and rinse them before putting them in the dishwasher, I return to the table but don’t sit.
“I’ve got some people I want to go see,” I announce. “I’ll be back by dinner.”
“Enzo, go with her,” Papá instructs. “I’ll call your father and tell him you’re going to be occupied for the day.”
“I don’t need a babysitter,” I insist, but it’s no use. Arguing with Lorenzo Allegrini is as pointless as trying to keep water from seeping through a colander.
“I’ll keep her in line, Uncle Lorenzo,” Enzo says as he rises from his chair, closes the distance between us, grips my elbow, and ushers me toward the front door. “Pick your battles, Alex,” he says.
I roll my eyes. “I’m a grown woman,” I snap. “I shouldn’t have to.”
“And he’ll always see you as a little girl. I think you’d be used to that by now.”
I huff out a breath. “I don’t even have my purse,” I tell him when he opens the passenger door of his bright red Maserati.
“If you need anything while we’re out, I’ll take care of it.” Enzo nods at the car. “Get in.”
My cousin is the only person on the planet who can get away with ordering me around— okay, okay… Papá, too— and as annoying as it is, I find I don’t mind it so much at the moment. It feels… comfortable.
The scenery goes by in a blur as Enzo drives. I stare out the window, soaking up the sights of home and realizing how much I miss being here. I left for a reason and have zero intention of moving back, but a piece of me will always consider this home.
“Earth to Alex,” Enzo says, snapping me out of my stupor. “We’re here.”
I shake my head and glance around. Gravestones litter the landscape, and an all-too-familiar lump forms in my throat. My heart beats faster, and my pulse thumps in my ears.
“H-How’d you know?” I ask quietly.
Before he answers, Enzo exits the car and walks around to open my door. He leans in and levels his gaze on me. “That you’d want to come see Emily?” I nod. “Because, other than family, whom you’ll see at dinner, she’s the only person you visit when you come back to New York.”
We walk through the cemetery, the cheerful sunshine at odds with the stormy emotions evoked by the location. When we reach the marble headstone, I trace the letters of Emily’s name with my fingertips.
“She was so young,” I comment. “It should’ve been me.”
“You were young, too.”
“But I was born into a world of conflict,” I snap. “Emily was innocent.”
“She was, but evil doesn’t discriminate.”
Tears silently slip past my lashes to roll down my cheeks. I swipe at them but give up when they don’t stop coming.
“Twelve people died that day, Enzo,” I remind him. “Why was I spared?”
“You know why.”
I lower myself to the ground like I always do and sit cross-legged next to the grave, my sadness morphing into something else, something darker. “Because of my name,” I reply bitterly.
Enzo sits next to me without a care for the expensive suit he’s wearing. “Our family name has its perks.”
Laughing without an ounce of humor, I narrow my eyes at him. “Our family name is—”
“I’m gonna stop you right there. So, tell me who Goliath is.”
The groan that barrels up the back of my throat and past my lips is equal parts frustration and longing. “He’s nobody.”
“The hand between your legs earlier says otherwise.”
Enzo, the real Enzo, finally begins to emerge. He puts on a good show for the famiglia , but he’s never been able to hide his sexuality from me. Growing up, my friends would always want to gossip about boys and sex, but my cousin is who I felt most comfortable talking to about such things. That hasn’t changed, even if our lives have gone in different directions.
My lips curve upward, and warmth spreads through my core. “Goliath is someone I’ll never see again.”
He arches a brow. “A one-night stand?”
“More like a two-minute blazing inferno,” I admit.
“That good, huh?”
“Il miglior cazzo che abbia mai avuto,” I gush. “Best. Cock. Ever.”
“And here I thought all you did down in Bama was work and get caught in the middle of a mass shooting.”
My cheeks heat, and I lower my head. “We kinda fucked in the back of a truck.”
“And…”
“It was during all that shooting.”
“Alex!” Enzo exclaims. “You could’ve been killed.”
“I’d have died a happy woman. Well, satisfied, at least.”
“And you’re really never going to see him again?”
I think about his question for a moment. Even if I wanted to see Goliath again, I wouldn’t know where to begin to look for him. Sure, I could reach out to the hospital and ask them where they hired their Santas for the event, but to what end?
Goliath is nothing more than a steamy memory. The short time we spent together was as close to perfection as I’ve ever been, despite the flying bullets, and I prefer to maintain the illusion that good things can happen to me.
If I see him again, the illusion will fade until it’s nothing more than dusty remnants of bliss.
“No,” I finally say. “I’m not going to see him again.”