Chapter Sixteen Leo
When we were younger and life got complicated, Talia always offered us some Sicilian wisdom. Wrapping us in her warm embrace, she would whisper in one of our ears, “Chiù scuru di mezzanotti non po' fari, mi amore”, which meant that it could not get darker than midnight.
As we got older and faced hurt or disappointment, she’d say, “Ogni mali nun veni pri nòciri."--not every pain comes to harm you.
But my favorite–the one I’d gotten tattooed on my back when I was nineteen–was, Di guerra, caccia e amuri, pri un gustu milli duluri. Since it meant that “in war, hunting, and love, you suffer a thousand pains for one pleasure.” I felt it really encapsulated the mafia life.
In the last three weeks since Maeve and Rafe’s breakup and Drea slipping further away from me, I’d thought heavily of those proverbs.
I’d especially thought of them tonight after we’d checked into our hotel in Philadelphia.
Tomorrow was the rehearsal and then Edoardo was throwing a belated engagement party disguised as the rehearsal dinner.
The moment our plane had taken off from New York, Rafe started drinking.
He didn’t stop during the short flight or the ride from the airport.
He could barely hold his head up during dinner with Gianni and Caterina.
Considering Callum’s previous reaction to Rafe and Maeve’s relationship, he’d skipped out on dinner.
While Gianni escorted Caterina to her and Callum’s suite, I wrangled Rafe. Even with help from our bodyguards, it wasn’t easy. As independent as he was, he did not appreciate the help and grew more and more agitated.
Once we got him inside, he headed straight to his suitcase. He pulled out two bottles of whiskey before popping the top off one of them. With an exasperated sigh, I said, “Why don’t we try to get you sobered up a bit in the shower?”
“Fuck off.”
“Jesus, Rafe, I can’t leave you like this.”
His response was to shoot me the bird while sucking down three huge gulps of whiskey.
“If you arrive fucked up tomorrow, Edoardo will lose his shit. After everything, you don’t want to give him any more ammunition, do you?”
“How else am I supposed to survive losing Maeve and being a fucking puppet on Edoardo’s strings?” With a mirthless laugh, he said, “I can’t even take the fucker out because we’re too weak from murdering Father.”
“We didn’t have a choice, Rafe. The man kidnapped Caterina and was going to let that slimy bastard, Carmine, force a miscarriage and rape her,” I argued.
He shook his head. “It was our pride. As her husband, it was Callum’s right to take him out, but I demanded it be us.”
Christ. He really was losing it if he was lamenting killing our father.
Desperate to reach him, I said, “Remember when we were kids, and Talia would try to talk us down from the ledge?”
“What about it?”
“I was just thinking about chiù scuru di mezzanotti non po' fari.” When he stared blankly at me, I sighed. “I know it seems as dark as midnight for you right now, brother. But like the proverb says, it can’t get darker.”
Rafe took another long swig before he threw the bottle at me. After the bottle exploded on the wall behind my head, he rushed at me. The manic look in his eyes chilled me. “Fuck you, Leo.”
“I was just trying to help.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you coming at me with your trite little proverbs when I’m dying? I don’t want words! I want to bleed out for not being able to have her!”
“I understand more than you think,” I protested.
With a dark sneer, he shook his head. “Bullshit. You’ve never truly loved a woman. One you’d take a bullet for. One you dream about seeing your child growing within. One who is your beating heart outside of your body.”
Harsh, guttural sobs overcame him then, doubling him over at the waist. As I thought of Drea, all the anger and frustration I felt about not being able to have her boiled over in that moment.
In a flash, I barreled into him, shoving him back until he slammed into the wall. Grabbing the long strands of his hair, I jerked his head up to look at me. “Listen here, you selfish bastard. You’re so wrapped up in your own suffering you can’t even see that I’m fucking dying right before you!”
Rafe’s glassy eyes narrowed. “What the fuck are you saying?” he slurred.
“I know exactly what it’s like to love someone you can’t have. For this fucked up world of ours to deny you the only woman you’ve ever truly loved. To know you’ll have to spend the rest of your life watching her belong to another man.”
Blinking at me as if trying to clear his alcohol soaked brain, Rafe asked, “Wait…who?”
A maniacal laugh rumbled through me. One that once it started, I couldn’t stop. All that built up pressure and desire and heartache purged out of me through psychotic laughter.
“Leo?”
“It’s so fucked up,” I wheezed, as I swiped the tears from my eyes.
With a grunt, Rafe shoved me away and stalked over to the table where another bottle of whiskey sat. He’d chugged half of it before I recovered enough to stomp over to him.
“You’re going to kill yourself,” I growled before I jerked the bottle out of his hand.
He swiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “No shit. That’s kinda the plan.”
Staring at him, I shook my head. “You don’t deserve her.”
“Don’t you think I know that? Maeve’s always been too good for me.”
Now it was my turn to hurl the whiskey bottle. “I’m talking about Drea! You don’t fucking deserve her.”
“What does she have to do with anything?”
I threw up my hands. “She has everything to do with it. She is everything, you bastardo. She’s sassy and creative and sexy and smart. Despite being raised by utter assholes, she has such a kind heart and sweet spirit. She is the world to me.”
This time, the tears that streaked down my cheeks weren’t from laughter. They were fucking heartbreak leaking out of me. “She deserves to be happy.” Slamming my palm against my chest, I screamed, “I deserve to make her happy.”
Rafe’s neck jerked back like I’d slapped him. “You and….”
Before he could finish, his eyes rolled back in his head, and he collapsed to the floor. “Way to make this about you again.”
Leaving him to sleep off his misery, I downed the remaining whiskey and then collapsed onto the bed.
***
The next morning, I woke up in bed littered with bottles out of the mini bar. The moment I lifted my head, a Sicilian bande struck up a lively tarentella in my skull. Moaning, I collapsed back onto the pillow.
“Stay there,” a voice instructed above me.
When I cracked open one eye, Gianni glared down at me. “Jesus, Leo. I gotta deal with you and Rafe today?”
“My apologies,” I muttered.
A loud groan echoed through the bathroom. “Rafe?”
Gianni nodded. “After I found you two vanuclos, I called one of the family doctors. He’s setting Rafe up with an IV, and then he’ll do one for you.”
“Good thinking.”
“Yeah, in case you haven’t forgotten, we have to be at the church at noon.”
Fortunately, the alcohol binge had wiped it from my mind until Gianni brought it up. It sure as hell was the last place I wanted to be. Rubbing my face, I asked, “What time is it now?”
“Nine.”
At another groan from the bathroom, I asked, “How’s he doing?”
“As bad as you’d imagine.”
“Maybe we should forgo the usual wedding gift and give him Edoardo’s head on a platter,” I suggested.
Gianni rolled his eyes. “This is too serious to joke about, Leo.”
“Like I don’t know that.”
“Then start treating it that way.”
“Whatever,” I grumbled as I rose off the bed. Since I had to piss, I stumbled into the bathroom. Rafe stood in the shower with his head buried under the stream. One of his hands was placed on the marble wall while the other was wrapped in plastic to protect the IV tubing.
At what must’ve been the horrible look on my face, the doctor backed away from the shower. “Excuse me,” he mumbled before quickly sprinting from the bathroom.
After taking my cock out, I glanced over my shoulder at Rafe. “Want me to wash your back when I finish pissing?”
To my surprise, he laughed. “After you do my back, are you gonna polish my balls for me?”
Tucking my cock back in, I reached over to flush. As I moved to wash my hands, I replied, “I’d offer to scrub your dick, but I’m not sure I could find it.”
“Bastardo.”
While I dried my hands, Rafe turned off the shower. After grabbing a towel, he worked to get it around his waist with one arm. “Jesus, you’re pathetic,” I said as I headed over to help him.
As I fixed the towel, Rafe sighed. “I have no fucking idea what I might’ve said or done last night. Since I imagine I was a real figlio di puttana, I wanted to say I’m sorry.”
“While you were a real motherfucker, you don’t need to apologize.” Staring him in the eyes, I said, “A wounded dog will bite the hand of the one who tries to help it as well as hurt it.”
Rafe snorted. “There you go sporting more philosophic bullshit like you did last night.”
Panic echoed through me. If he remembered that, he might remember how I told him about loving Drea. Feeling him out for more information, I sheepishly said, “Man, I was hoping you were too wasted to remember that.”
“It’s the last thing before everything goes hazy.”
Thank God. “Sorry, but I was desperate.”
“I imagined as much.”
Holding my hands up, I said, “I promise I won’t be bringing up any other trite proverbs anymore.”
“You sure as hell better not,” he replied with a smile.
“Just know, I’ve got your back.”
Although he wasn’t drunk, the manic smile was back. “It’s the only thing keeping me from putting a gun in my mouth.”
My neck snapped back with the heaviness of his words. Fear like I’d never known constricted my chest as I watched his retreating form leaving the bathroom.
***
After an IV, pain meds, and several cups of black coffee, I felt somewhat human again. When we arrived at the church, Rafe didn’t wait for the bodyguard. He flung open the door before puking violently all over the sidewalk.
“My sentiments exactly,” I muttered as I got out of the other door.
After coming around the SUV to help him, Rafe grunted before sidestepping his vomit as he got out of the car. Gianni and I flanked him before heading into the massive Cathedral Basilica of Saints Paul and Peter.
The moment I stepped through the door, my hungry gaze bounced around the crowd for Drea. The longer I couldn’t find her, the more desperate I became. Finally, I spotted her all alone on a pew close to the altar.
With Rafe occupied by Edoardo, I slipped away from Gianni and started down the aisle. When I reached Drea, her head was bowed as she knelt on one of the risers.
“Hey,” I said softly.
She jerked her head up and whipped her gaze over to me. “Hey,” she choked out.
I’d never seen her tan skin so pale. “Are you okay?”
“I’m getting married tomorrow,” she said.
“That bad, huh?” I teasingly replied.
The corners of Drea’s lips quirked slightly. “Yeah, that bad.” Turning on the riser, she glanced to the back of the cathedral where Rafe was. “How’s he holding up?”
“Let’s just say he’s on the way to helping the Scotch companies to record profits this quarter."
“I can’t say I blame him. I’d probably be coping with alcohol if not for being–”
At the panicked expression on her face, I asked, “What’s wrong?”
With a nervous laugh, she replied, “I just realized I almost talked shit about Father in his presence. He’s already like a powder keg set to go off. I don’t want to light the match.”
Even though he wasn’t close, I didn’t argue with Drea. I knew she was gun shy from Edoardo’s mania.
She rose off the riser. “Speaking of Father, I'd better join him and Rafe.”
“Yeah, of course.”
I stepped back to where she could exit the pew. I didn’t plan on following her until Gianni waved at me.
The next half hour of rehearsing the ceremony was pure torture, not just for Rafe, but for me also. I couldn’t imagine how hard the ceremony would be tomorrow. Just when I thought it couldn’t get worse, it did.
The priest nodded at Drea and Rafe. “And I’ve pronounced you man and wife, and now it’s time for the two of you to kiss.”
Fuck. Me.
This was fucking torture. While I’d anticipated having to see it tomorrow, I sure as hell hadn’t today. From the body language of Rafe and Drea, they weren’t thinking it would happen either.
“Get on with it,” Edoardo shouted from the front row.
With a grimace, Rafe started to dip his head. The closer his mouth got to Drea’s, the harder I clenched my fists at my sides. He’d barely brushed his lips against hers before he jerked back. As he turned to the priest, I exhaled a ragged breath.
“Now what?” Rafe demanded, which caused the priest’s bushy grey brows to raise.
“Um, well, then the music strikes up and the two of you walk down the aisle as man and wife.”
Rafe held out his arm, but before Drea could slip hers through his, the wedding coordinator frantically stepped forward. “No, no. It’s bad luck for them to walk down together now.”
The priest furrowed his brows. “Is that an Italian thing?”
“It’s a superstitious thing for many ethnicities,” the wedding planner answered with a knowing look.
Rafe snorted. “I think we’ve reached peak bad luck already. What’s a little more?”
From his spot on the front bench, Edoardo glared at him. “Just send another groomsman down with her and get it over with!”
With his jaw clenched, Rafe stared past Drea to me. “Leo, would you please do it so we can get the hell out of here?” At the priest clearing his throat, Rafe said, “My apologies for the language, Father.”
When I remained frozen from his request, Rafe furrowed his brows. “Earth to Leo.”
“Uh, right.”
Although I would’ve rather been flayed alive, I held out my arm to Drea. From her deer-in-the-headlights expression, she felt the same way about Rafe’s command.
When the giant organ struck up, I jumped out of my skin. “Sorry,” I muttered to Drea.
To my surprise, I found her biting her lip to keep from laughing. “What?”
“You looked like you’d been electrocuted.”
At her amusement, I couldn’t help chuckling. “Not gonna lie. I almost pissed my pants.”
Drea giggled. “I’m glad none of your enemies just saw you totally emasculated."
“Har, har.”
As we continued down the black checkered floor, Drea smiled. “I really needed that laugh, Leo.”
I returned her smile. “So did I.”
The longer she stared into my face, the more her smile faded. I knew her eyes reflected the same emotions I was feeling.
Longing
Desire
Heartbreak
Devastation.
With my heart threatening to beat out of my chest, I’d never been so fucking grateful to reach the end of a church aisle.
Although I probably should’ve remained there with her as the rest of the wedding party joined us, I quickly extricated my arm.
Flashing her an apologetic look, I said, “I'd better find a bathroom before the organ starts again.”
I didn’t even wait for her response. Instead, I whirled away and walked through the back of the church. Once I closed myself up inside the bathroom, I pinched my eyes shut and tried to calm my breathing.
There was no way in hell I was making it through the ceremony sober.