“An hour,” he repeated. “Without protection. Without me.”
She glared. “Look, I get that I need protection, but you’ve been teaching me, and I’m pretty sure I can take apart ten different sorts of guns and put them back together with a blindfold on.”
He snorted in disgust. Ash was calm until he suddenly wasn’t. It was like once he’d had it, he was done.
He was a perfect mini-me of Chase, gorgeous thick dark hair that the girls went wild over since it was a little on the long side, tattoos peeking out from beneath his collar, a few on his right hand, and those damn Abandonato blue eyes.
It didn’t help that he was arrogant as hell.
But recently he’d been on edge, especially when it came to Claire.
“Guys, don’t fight,” Junior said without looking up from his phone. “It just makes Ash angry, which makes him more hungry, which means he’s going to steal the last piece of bacon and I’m going to have to stab him in the throat, and I promised Nixon no bloodshed this morning, I said it before prayer and everything.”
Ash chose that moment to snatch the last piece and shove it into his mouth then flip him off.
I sighed. “Mature, Ash.”
“She started it.” He pointed at Claire, mouth full. He chewed a few bites. “She thought it would be a good idea to go hang out with Annie and Tank, so she got in their car by herself, disappeared for over an hour without any security, and strolled her ass back to the house while I had a mini-panic attack thinking I was going to find her body in the back of their trunk!”
I made a face. “You do realize that Annie looks like she’d pass out if she saw a gun in real life, right?”
“You don’t know…” His face paled. “…what people are truly capable of.”
“And you do?” Junior asked, this time finally looking up. “What’s this really about, man? Is it about Claire not being safe, or you not being in control?”
“No.” Ash put his head in his hands and gripped his hair. “It’s this really horrible feeling that something bad’s going to happen. Ever since that night, I can’t shake it. I keep having these nightmares about something happening to us. First, it’s to Claire, and then it’s you, Junior.” He locked eyes with him. “Last night it was Serena and Breaker. Violet saw everything. I just—it’s not about control. It’s about not knowing anything and having to just wake up every day prepared for the worst.”
Claire started rubbing his back with her hand. “I’m sorry, I just—think about it from my perspective. This is all really new for me, the way you guys live, and it was nice to go to coffee, talk about movies instead of people plotting our bloody deaths.”
“Shocked,” Junior said dryly. “That you don’t like talking about death. I mean, it’s like my number one favorite thing to do.”
“What’s your second?” Claire frowned.
Junior’s eyes flickered across the table, landed on me for a few heated moments that had me clenching my thighs together. “Kissing, I love talking about kissing and watching a girl’s face go from ghost white to red with embarrassment, then arousal. I like to see her eyes dilate; her tongue slide out and wet her lip in anticipation. You know, boy things.” He winked.
Meanwhile, I was having a near nervous breakdown at the table.
He just had to bring up kissing.
And I just had to be a few feet away from where we’d had our makeout sessions last night.
I couldn’t lose control again.
But he’d felt so right.
So damn sexy that I just wanted to pretend that we didn’t have this chasm of rage and mistrust between us.
I didn’t expect him to kiss me back.
But boy, did he!
I felt that kiss in my soul.
For the first time in years, I was absolutely terrified, because it would be so easy to give him what was left of me.
And I knew he would break it again.
“Why don’t you say things like that?” Claire nudged Ash.
Ash shook his head at Junior. “Thanks, man.”
“Any time.” A grin slid across his face.
I had to look away from that mouth before I launched myself across the table and took his head between my hands and begged.
“Normal,” Ash repeated. “You want normal?”
She nodded.
“With normal people?”
“Hey, I’m normal!” I said defensively, not realizing I was holding my knife in my right hand since I liked always having it on me.
Ash and Junior both looked at the knife then at me.
Ash spoke first. “You literally killed someone with a fucking poison dart you keep in your heels, Serena, so…”
“I’m gonna give you a hard no,” Junior agreed. “Nice try, killer, but please carry on, I think you missed a spot of blood on the tip.”
I made a face at both of them.
“Yes.” Claire bounced in her seat.
“Fine.” Ash jerked his head toward me. “Think we can have some people over?”
“Ah, inviting them into the lair, nice.” I grinned. “Yeah, we know where all the weapons are just in case, and it’s not a secret where we live. Mom and Dad went out for the day, but we have around fifteen suits walking around bored out of their minds.”
“Right.” Ash let out a rough exhale and cupped Claire’s face between his hands. “We have them over, watch some movies, drink some wine, talk about whatever the hell normal people talk about and then, we go home, and you stop going off on your own because you think you’re strong enough to kill someone in cold blood when we both know you aren’t.”
She wrapped her arms around him as Ash pulled her into his lap so she straddled him, and then he started kissing her.
“Yeah, that’s our cue.” I grabbed my knife and stood.
Claire laughed and pulled back. “Should I text them to come over in an hour?”
“Sounds good.” I yawned and then left them to go grab clothes from my bedroom.
I pushed my bathroom door open and dropped my clothes to the floor. “Get out!”
Junior gave me a blank stare as he continued brushing his teeth. “No.” His mouth was full of foam.
“This house has five bathrooms, pick one!”
He spat out his toothpaste. “Your father specifically said to use this one because as of today, your mom’s decided that she’s gutting the other three, thus the reason for part of their outing; I think Home Depot is in the plan. Besides, why would I bring all my shit to a new bathroom only to have to move it back? Use your head, Serena.”
I clenched my teeth. “You’re going to force me to make us a schedule, aren’t you?”
His grin was sexy, devouring me as he leaned against the counter. “Depends. Are we talking more of like a sticker chart schedule? Because I could really go for some positive…” His eyes freely roamed up and down my body like the teal monstrosities had a right to. “…reinforcement.”
I grinned and took two steps toward him, then smacked him on the back of his head. “Consider yourself positively reinforced.”
When I pulled my hand away, he struck, snatching my wrist and gripping it firmly, his expression amused. “Come on, Serena, be an adult about this, you can shower all you want while I’m in here getting ready. I won’t look.”
I gaped. “You’re such a liar!” I shoved at his chest. “The shower’s glass! You can see right through!”
“Right, and as shocking as it may sound, I do possess self-control.”
I crossed my arms. “It’s not about self-control; it’s about reward versus punishment. Why should I reward you with a free show when you deserve to be punished?”
He leaned forward and tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear. I tried not to focus on his aqua eyes and stellar jawline. Everything about him screamed dangerous perfection. “Trust me, sweetheart, you naked, mere feet away from me when I know you’re off-limits isn’t a reward; it’s pure hell.”
With that, he walked ou
t of the bathroom.
I was too confused and stunned to do anything but slowly strip out of my clothes and get into the shower and try to forget about how close his lips had been to mine.
The water was hot as steam billowed around me.
I let out a groan as I put my head under the hot water, letting it slide over my face. This was what I needed, to relax, to think about anything but Junior taunting me. Again.
I was so calm and relaxed, I didn’t notice that he was back.
The glass door opened.
And a very muscled eight-pack greeted me like a bomb detonating.
“Hey.” He didn’t so much as blink as he held out his hand. “Can you toss me the body wash?”
With a curse, I grabbed the plastic bottle and chucked it at his perfect body, obviously on purpose. May it slip and hit his balls, rendering him unable to sleep around like I’d assumed he was doing all along.
I hid my hurt well because I hid it behind the shield of so much anger that I could have sworn I was hooked up to an IV of rage.
He caught the body wash with one hand and smirked. “Shoulda played baseball, princess.”
“I’m not the best with balls, you know that, I see something small and I want to squeeze.” I lowered my gaze and shrugged like he wasn’t completely hung.
He burst out laughing. “Funny, since I remember you grabbing a lot of balls back in the day, even licking them…”
I refused to shiver. “Go be gross elsewhere, dude.” I waved him off and grabbed my shampoo, and tried to ignore the way my body pulsed with awareness. He was so close, under the other showerhead, pretending like we didn’t hate each other like we didn’t have some serious issues.
It was almost like he was pretending we were friends.
And It confused me more than his hate ever would.
Because I didn’t know what to do with it, and it made me hope, and deep down, I was a romantic. I grew up watching relationships around me borderline on obsessive.
I wanted an obsessive sort of love, the kind that refuses to let go, even if it was unhealthy—it was what I wanted, what I was exposed to.
So, when Junior teased me, it gave me the wrong idea.
“Do me a favor?” I whispered while I massaged shampoo into my hair.
“What’s up?”
“Don’t—” I took a breath. “Don’t pretend we’re friends just because we’re shower buddies, don’t pretend our relationship isn’t fucked up when it is, because it’s not fair to me, and it’s not fair to you, especially when you go back home in less than two weeks, and we still have to work together without killing one another. I may actually murder you if you go from my friend Junior to my enemy in the span of thirteen days, got it?”
He seemed to think about it, and then he grabbed my shoulder and turned me around, so my back was to him, and then he was pulling me under the water and rinsing my hair.
My lips trembled.
My heart cracked in my chest.
It was so wrong it was right.
I hated him for making me feel vulnerable, for making me crave the closeness that I missed so much.
It was so hard, knowing what it was like to love someone, only to have them disrespect and betray you in front of your face and act like it didn’t matter like you didn’t matter.
He was sending so many mixed signals I wondered if he was actually going insane.
“What if I’m just your friend now, what if we both put down the weapons and try a different tactic, I’m here for two weeks, and regardless of our friendship we still have to work together until we fucking die—may as well make it enjoyable by not being at each other’s throats.”
I opened my eyes. “Is the great Junior Nicolasi waving the white flag?”
“I would never wave first.” He shrugged. “I’m just saying, this has been going on for over a year, maybe it’s time we tried not hating each other.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and said softly, “Junior, my hate is all I have. Please don’t take that too.”
His face completely fell. “Serena—”
“I’ll think about it,” I whispered in a hurried rush, and then I was stepping out of the shower and grabbing a towel, but not before a knock sounded on the bathroom door.
“Serena?” My dad’s voice filled the bathroom; he was clearly standing on the other side of the door, ready to expose both of us, all of the lies. It couldn’t happen. Not now, not ever.
My eyes widened. “Hey, Dad, I’m showering what’s up?”
“Oh, I was just looking for Junior. You see him?”
“He’s um…” I looked over my shoulder.
Junior gave me an arrogant grin. Ugh, he knew I was the worst liar ever. “He’s around somewhere, Dad. I just saw him at breakfast. Knowing Junior, he’s probably finding Coco number two, so he can ruin dinner again and get laid.”
“Serena, have a little heart. Junior hasn’t had it as easy as the rest of you.”
I felt Junior go still behind me.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s just… Never mind, just know that the mafia doesn’t forget. We don’t talk about it, but that doesn’t mean we don’t know, so yes, things have been harder on him because he has to prove he isn’t his bloodline, and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”
“But— I held my towel tighter. “Phoenix is amazing; he’s your best friend.”
Dad was quiet and then. “Honey, we should talk about this later.”
“Okay.”
“Love you,” he said.
And then he was gone.
I whipped around. “Junior, what’s he talking about?”
Junior’s eyes looked haunted. He gritted his teeth; his jaw clenched like he was ready to lose his shit. “Nothing.”
“Junior?”
“I said nothing!” He moved past me and snatched the other clean towel. And then he hung his head. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. Just know that it’s not something I want to talk about—ever, especially with someone who might look at me the way you are right now.”
“How am I looking at you?”
He was quiet and then, “Like I’m unpredictable. Like I could snap. Like something’s wrong with me.”
“That’s not what this look is.” I shook my head. “This look is one of concern.” I took a deep breath and said it. “From one friend to another.”
His head jerked up; long, wet, golden-brown hair stuck to his forehead as his teal eyes locked on mine. “You promise?”
I knew in that moment I should have run in the opposite direction. No good would come from us being friends.
In fact, it almost felt like a bad omen, holding out my hand and shaking his, like we’d both just sealed our fate.
Done something we would never come back from. But I still said, “I promise.”
“Hate you for as long as we both shall live.” He said it with a smile.
I grinned and said. “Back atcha.”
I didn’t realize how much I was smiling until I was back in my room and saw my reflection.
And all my heart kept screaming at me was. “We are so screwed.”
Chapter Fourteen
Junior
Nothing like calming the arousal down like the reminder of your family’s past, the reminder of your blood, of where you came from, of choices made.
The minute Serena left the bathroom.
The minute I knew Nixon was gone.
I slammed my hand against the tile, over and over again, until the pain turned numb, until I couldn’t feel my fingers.
She knew that there was a past.
She didn’t know what my dad had done.
She didn’t know the forgiveness her mom had extended or her dad, for that matter.
And she sure as hell didn’t know the shame I carried when I thought of the name I was born with.
Not Nicolasi, but De Lange, the cursed and forgotten arm of the five families—my dad took the Nicolasi name the minute he inh
erited Luca Nicolasi’s job as boss, making it even harder for the De Lange name, a name attached to traitors, murderers, and rapists, to survive.
But there’s something about a name.
Something that people don’t talk about. It doesn’t matter that I was a Nicolasi under my father’s rule, because I knew, in my heart, in my head, the blood that pumped through my body knew, that I was still a De Lange, that I was part of the original Family that the Cosa Nostra despised.
It didn’t matter that Nicolasi covered a multitude of sins.
My blood was still evil.
Serena didn’t know the whole story, none of the kids did, but I’ll never forget the day my dad sat me down and explained why it was essential to become a Nicolasi and not slide back into what was easy—being what I was born to be: a De Lange.
Fucking evil.
I didn’t understand; I mean, I was twelve.
And then he showed me the pictures.
Pictures of strung-out prostitutes, pictures of death, pictures of my grandfather, of business deals made, and finally.
Of him and his friends.
The original Elect.
All four of them standing next to another girl, Nixon’s wife, Trace, all of them smiling, all except my father who in the picture was looking directly at the innocent dark-haired girl—his expression dripping with hatred.
A person doesn’t forget the first time they see that sort of hate, that sort of brainwashing, which my dad assured me it was, didn’t mean that the sins were totally forgiven.
That day I went into my dad’s office innocent.
I left with the sins of my father on my hands, and I’d been trying to rectify that ever since. I learned that day that no amount of showers and soap would cleanse me of our sins, of our family’s legacy, so I had to be better, do better, and then I’d locked eyes with her.
Serena.
I remember the day things shifted.
The day we went from laughing and climbing our favorite tree, to making out behind her dad’s giant ass garage. We went from making out to skinny dipping to our first time when she told me she loved me when I told her I had no idea what I was doing, and when she told me it didn’t matter because we were together. J and S.
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