Page 89 of Diamond In The Rough

“Political science. She’s in her final year.”

Felix chuckles. “That tracks. Seems politics was dinner table discussion during your childhood, just as surely as it was during ours. Your brother?”

“Lives on the Lower East Side and is not yet married or in a serious relationship.” I wrap my hands around Micah’s and use him as an anchor. I touch his still-tender limb. I feel the rough stitching, and realize, in all the time I’ve known him, this is a first for us both.

He’s letting me touch. And I’m brave enough to want to.

But his mafia brother is shaking me down, and I’ll be damned if I accept it without having someone to hold on to. “My brother and I are reasonably close,” I admit. “He’s my twin, actually.”

“Your twin?” Micah startles beneath me. “You’re a twin?”

“Fraternal, obviously.” I focus on Felix. “Where are yours?”

Immediately, his eyes shoot over my shoulder and stop on Micah.

But I shake my head in defiance. “There are five of you. Where are the other three?”

“Publicly available information.” He steps away from Christabelle, his easy mood visibly harder for him to cling to when I pry into his family. He heads to the fridge and opens the large steel door. Searching the interior, he finds what he’s looking for and pulls back to reveal a covered tray. “Archer and Tim have lived in Copeland for many years. One is a cop, the other manages a bar.”

I know I risk my neck with my next question. But I ask it anyway.

Curiosity and all that.

“And the third?”

“Attending college in Copeland City,” Christabelle murmurs. “Happily. Safely. Cato is finally making good choices for his life.”

“Is your sister single?” Felix asks, earning a scowl not only from me, but from Christabelle, too.

“I’m not asking for myself,” he laughs, setting the tray on the counter. “My brother is in college, your sister is in college.” He unwraps the dish and reveals cheese. Crackers. Rolled slices of meat. “Perhaps we both want our siblings to meet educated, decent people.”

If that were the case, I’m not sure I’d introduce mine to Cato freakin’ Malone.

“My sister is in a relationship.” I smile for the mafioso who seems to enjoy the back and forth of thinly veiled jabs. “Why don’t you tell me something about you? Something not publicly available.”

He barks out a laugh, his shoulders bouncing with the movement. “You’re like a dog, Ms. Hale. Challenging and stubborn, and completely unwilling to give up a bone no matter how threatening the alternative is.” He looks over my shoulder at Micah, “Wise choice. Life would be dull if you brought home a fuckin’ bore.”

“Charming.” I study the tray of appetizers and reach across to select an olive. I don’t ask permission, and no one offers. I merely help myself and plop the morsel between my lips. “What’s for dinner?”

“Figured we could grill on the patio.” Felix grabs a small knife and stares into my eyes. Taunting. Sinister. Yet, entirely too Malone for me to be afraid. Then, he slices a piece of cheese off the block, places it on a cracker, and offers the lot to Christabelle. “Ms. Cannon and I are partial to a decent steak. I hope you’re not opposed to eating meat.”

“Nope.” I select a thin slice of prosciutto and place it on my tongue. “Steak sounds delicious.”

17

MICAH

ONE BASTARD. TWO BASTARDS. THREE BASTARDS. FOUR…

Tiia Hale is a brave woman. Challenging and demanding, even when it’s not necessarily safe to be those things. She’s stared into my eyes from the moment we met and stood up under threat. I’ve handled her physically. Spoken to her with words I would never use with someone I care about. I’ve threatened her life. Broken into her apartment. Infringed on her workplace.

I’ve been a prick from the moment we crossed paths and her existence and mine collided.

Yet, she clings to my hand, threading her fingers through mine and walks by my side as we wander my home and head toward the dining room.

“I didn’t realize you were a twin.” I keep her close, looking down into her eyes when she glances up. “A whole twin? That’s not a small deal.”

“He’s my brother,” she shrugs. “Fraternal. We’re as normal as any other sibling group.”

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