Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
RAFE
Adelina slipped away in the night with her future husband.
Good. That was how it should’ve been.
Or, at least, that was what I told myself to fight off the boner from that assault of a kiss and how Adelina had held on to me as we had driven up to the bonfire. I wasn’t meant to get between her and her fiancé, but that didn’t stop the hot rage vibrating through my bones when Sas had pulled her away and strapped her to his bike.
She was in danger with the Rojas brothers.
She was not in danger with Sas.
No matter how much I tried to convince myself, though, I wanted nothing more than to mount my bike and tear out after them. I had no right to do that, because it was clear that Sas was actually trying to protect her too... in his own fucked-up way.
But the look on her face as he strapped her wrists together had me tensing every muscle in my body to stay in place. It wasn’t the same desperate need to get away from one of the stupid guys at a nightclub trying to corner her. The way she watched him with wide eyes reminded me of all the innocence I’d known in her since she was a young girl.
I didn’t have a dog in this fight. Hell, I wasn’t even sure what I would say if I were to jump in. She was only my charge.
“My niece,” I reminded myself.
“What?” asked Graff.
“Shit,” I murmured. “Nothing.”
In the commotion of the party jumping back into full swing, I had missed that Graff was still standing beside me, watching Sas take Adelina as well. That he was the one who shielded her at my side. I peered over at the tatted man, my eyes landing on the four tiny birds tattooed in front of his ear.
The man wore art like it was life. Those were almost too small to notice rather than most intrusive face tats I’d seen before. Subtle and... classy.
Weird. I rubbed the back of my neck.
But if Sas—Adelina’s actual fiancé—wasn’t taking her time, Graff was.
Didn’t matter, because thinking about her in that way should be way off limits.
I was sick to want to fuck her.
Maybe I needed therapy.
Adelina’s Nonna Petra would’ve hauled me down to the priest at her church for an exorcism if she had ever suspected my desire. Thank the lord she wouldn’t have the opportunity to do that from her grave. But if I acted on my fantasies—Adelina naked and writhing beneath me—Petra Parisi would likely return from the grave. And if haunting me didn’t work, she might just slice off my balls and feed them to her vicious little Min Pin, Bruto.
“I’m only her half uncle,” I said—to myself, but aloud.
“Huh?” Graff scrubbed his knuckles over the two-day-old stubble.
“Nothing.”
“Shit, man. You’re giving me whiplash,” said Graff.
I pinched my eyes shut. If this was a different time or place, different people... blood relations didn’t have to matter.
Graff was still watching me from the corner of his eye, the two of us standing shoulder to shoulder from where Sas had taken Adelina and driven off.
“Are you serious about the non-monogamy shit?” I asked.
He pulled up his head, rolling back his shoulders. “Yeah.”
That was it—all he said.
“How?” I asked.
He cracked a crooked smile. “How am I serious?”
“No.” I took a deep breath. “How do you do it? Three girls with one guy?”
“Not in the community where I grew up,” he said. “It rarely came down to a specific number, and usually it was the woman who had more than one partner.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “And no one gets jealous?”
“Well, sure.” Graff shrugged. “But that’s why you talk it out.”
“Seems sketchy.”
“Not at all. It just makes sense to build families and relationships that involve more than just two people. I mean, once you have kids, three hands—or four, or five—make life much easier.”
I ran my tongue over my teeth as if I could find one last taste of Adelina. “Didn’t that shit get confusing growing up?”
He snorted. “It was all I had ever known, so no. It was my life.”
“Did you have like three moms?”
“Dads.”
“That’s fucking cracked, man.”
“Not if you do it right.” Graff smirked.
“But you know which one is your real dad?”
“You’re not getting it.” He clapped a hand on my shoulder. “They’re all my real dad.”
“I mean your biological father.”
“Does it matter?” Graff lifted one eyebrow. “Dada Keir picked us up from school, Dada Rory was the cook in the house, and Dada Boyd kept everything from the washing machine to the truck in running order. Everyone contributed, and it worked perfectly as long as everyone was open about what they were thinking.”
“Us?”
“Excuse me?”
“You said us, so you have brothers and sisters?”
Graff shifted and scratched the bridge of his nose near his eye. “Yeah, I guess.”
“Not real convincing,” I said.
“I have a sister who left and brought the law down on the community. There wasn’t legal room for recognition of non-traditional relationships back then.”
Pursing my lips, I gave a nod. We still stood shoulder to shoulder, and I asked, “Are you looking for that kind of relationship?”
“We’re all looking for people we are comfortable with. No? People we love, want to protect, and trust,” he listed, voice soft.
I huffed. “You really are the artsy type.”
Graff laughed. “Just figuring that out?”
“The tattoos send mixed signals,” I said, motioning down to his hands.
He flexed his fists and then released his fingers, where it seemed like a hundred small tattoos were connected on his skin. Everything was darkened by the orange hue of the bonfire.
“I get it,” said Graff. “But that shit’s appearances. Signals are normally crossed by those receiving the message and interpreting it.”
I arched an eyebrow at him. “Too deep for me.”
“What we do”—he lowered his voice—“meaning our actions, don’t define who we are. Our boy Celt, for example. He’s murdered people in cold blood, but he’s a cop. Conundrum, huh?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“MCs can get a bad rap too, but there are plenty made up of military and cops.”
I scoffed. “Not this one, though.”
“Not this one. But given what she walked into, it’s no wonder Adelina came in with preconceived notions. We had the same about her as a prim and proper Mafia princess... and you.”
“And Sas?” I asked, clearing my throat.
“What about him?” asked Graff. “Even he’s getting a soft spot for the little princess.”
I wasn’t sure I believed that, except he was protecting her before they left. “You think he would be on board for polygamy?”
Graff eyed me sideways. “Wouldn’t be his first time sharing.”
A lump clogged my throat.
“What about Adelina?” asked Graff. “Everyone needs to communicate. Or it’s just cheating.”
“I think she’s open,” I said, surprising myself.
But what shocked me a little more was that I didn’t find the idea repulsive either.
Graff cocked a smile and headed for his bike, calling over his shoulder. “Let’s get out of here.”