Page 82 of Dark Romeo

I felt my cheeks flush.

Before I could say anything, her eyes lit with understanding. “I see,” she said as she nodded at me.

She had the wrong idea. I had to correct her. “Mrs. Brevio?—”

She laughed. “So formal. Please, call me Nonna.” She smiled at me and her warm brown eyes suddenly appeared younger than her obvious years. I wanted to blurt out my entire confusing predicament. Somehow, I thought that she’d understand. She’d know what to do.

I held my tongue.

“Nonna,” I tested the term on my tongue as I debated what I was going to say next. “I’m not his girlfriend,” I said truthfully. For some reason, it hurt to say it.

“But you care about him,” Nonna stated as if it were fact.

I swallowed. “I’m confused about him.”

Nonna nodded and folded her wrinkled hands together on the table in front of her, a dusting of flour on the backs of them. Her fingers were tiny and compact, her nails cut short and clean. “Roman has always been misunderstood. Even by himself. Even from a young age I could see there was a war raging inside that boy.” She sighed, then glanced up at me as if expecting me to say something.

“That makes sense, seeing the family he was born into,” I blurted out.

She gave me a sad smile. “He was always different from his other brothers. He was born premature, you know.”

I blinked at Nonna. “No, I didn’t know that.”

“Twenty-six weeks. They weren’t sure if he was going to make it. But he defied the odds. He was still such a tiny thing when they brought him home from the hospital.” She smiled, her eyes going all misty with the memory. “Even as he grew he was always smaller than his brothers. He was his mama’s favorite, perhaps because she nearly lost him.”

“He was close with her,” I guessed.

“Very.” A deep sadness closed over her face and the wrinkles around the corners of her mouth deepened. “Maria was a beautiful woman with the largest heart. She just loved the wrong man.”

I remembered the news articles about Maria’s murder. A knot developed in my throat. I knew what it must have felt like for him to lose his mother at such a young an age.

“I tried to do my best for Roman afterwards, but…he was never the same after that. There was a darkness in him that wasn’t there before.” Nonna sighed, a low and aching sound. “I just don’t know how a young boy recovers from something like that.”

The back door swung open, cutting off our conversation. “I’m home, Nonna,” a deep voice called. Mercutio strode in, two grocery bags in his hands.

“Mercutio.” I stood up from my seat, gazing past his shoulder, my heart half terrified, half wanting to see Roman behind him.

But Mercutio was alone.

Mercutio froze when he caught sight of me, his eyes narrowing to slits. “What’s going on?” He glanced over to Nonna sitting beside me, his gaze searching her face. “Nonna? Are you okay?”

Nonna let out a snort. “Mercutio, don’t be so paranoid. This is one of Roman’s friends. She came here to speak to you.”

Mercutio turned his attention to me, his dark eyes now hard. “Perhaps Ms. Capulet and I should speak alone,” he said.

Nonna stood up, patting my hand. “It was nice to meet you, dear. Go easy on our Roman, will you? He needs someone like you to understand him.”

A thread of guilt wound through me. I shouldn’t have made it seem like Roman and I were friends. Mercutio placed his bags down and crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at me over Nonna’s shoulder. He knew I hadn’t been presenting myself truthfully to his grandmother.

“It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Brevio,” I said.

“Nonna, please.” She gave me one last smile before she walked out of the kitchen.

Leaving me alone. With a hostile-looking Mercutio.

“Detective Capulet,” he said, spitting my title like it was a curse. “Why didn’t you show her your badge? Why didn’t you tell her you were a detective investigating Roman?”

Because I wasn’t here in an official capacity. But I couldn’t admit that. He’d kick me out in two seconds flat if he knew I had no real reason to be here. No reason except for my ridiculous unwavering obsession over a certain dark-eyed friend of his.

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