Page 64 of Tasting Sin

“That’s enough!” he shouted. “What is wrong with you two?”

“Ask him,” Giaco snapped.

When Grace stood and cleared her throat, the room silenced. “You two are here fighting when you should be on the same team. This family needs you to work together!” She looked at us like she wasn’t almost a decade younger—more like she was the older sibling lecturing us for the hundredth time. She sounded exasperated, pointing at each of us in turn when she spoke. “And all of this because you love Nellie and you can’t handle that? Get it together, or we all lose.”

Our father nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. “She’s right, you know? If the two of you can’t be on the same side, we can never expect anyone else to be.” He looked at Mom, offering an apologetic glance. “You two step into the office and talk and come back when you’re finished. Your mother made a delicious meal, and you’re going to sit down and eat it.”

We nodded, both stepping back from the table like a couple of scorned teenagers. Dinner resumed for the three of them, and the sound of forks clinking against plates followed us out of the room. Giaco had barely closed the office door behind us when I started talking. “I can’t just let her go through this alone, Giaco. You know that.”

“I know,” he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“And I’d never put our family at risk.” I sat against the edge of the desk. “You know that too.”

He nodded. “I do.”

“So give me a fucking break!” I threw my hands in the air.

“I can’t,” he said with a simple shrug, like it was the most obvious thing he could’ve said. He stepped toward me, putting both of his hands on my shoulders with a suddenly more serious than usual look. “You’re not going to lose it over a woman. She has handled herself this long without you. She doesn’t need you to babysit her now. Get it together.”

“She’s not just a woman.” She was the woman. Every woman.

He rolled his eyes, but the frustration on his face still lessened. “Yeah, I know. She’s your woman and you love her. I get it.” Then, he lowered his voice. “I don’t care. Figure your shit out before someone in our family, or Nellie, gets hurt.”

Chapter 43

Nellie

Icouldn’t get Ronan’s words yesterday out of my head. I had been smothered and kidnapped, taped to a pole, and smacked around by some man I didn’t even know before I watched him die in front of me, but all I could think about was Ronan. I never wanted you to get hurt.

Spice was curled up next to my leg, almost half under it. From the minute Ronan let him into my room yesterday, he hadn’t left my side. I think he could sense that I was hurt. He knew something was wrong. He didn’t even care about demanding his nightly can of tuna last night when I had forgotten.

When there was a quick knock and the front door opened, I jumped, and Spice’s head shot up. We both looked in the direction of the noise, waiting for someone to turn the corner. I couldn’t hear the footsteps over my heartbeat pounding in my ears. I held my breath, releasing it in a rushed exhale as soon as Grace turned the corner.

“Are you okay?” she asked, looking taken aback when she stepped into the living room. “You look really pale.”

“I thought you were someone else.” I didn’t want to admit to her that I thought she was the man I had seen bleeding out on the storage room floor, knowing there was no way he could be walking through my front door. Would the woman with him know where I lived? I shivered.

“I got the address from Ronan,” she said, stopping at the end of the couch. “Why do you even have the door unlocked in the first place?” I could see the resemblance between her and Ronan more when she scolded me.

I tilted my head, sitting up straighter and tucking my feet under me to give her more space. “Did you really come here to lecture me about my safety?”

“No.” Grace giggled, and I couldn’t help but smile. “I came to check on you. Are you okay?”

“Totally fine,” I said, swallowing back the lump in my throat. I wasn’t used to having anyone but Ava and Spice check on me.

“You’re a liar.” She lifted one brow and pursed her lips in a don’t-even-try-to-lie-to-me scowl. “I know you’re not because I know my brother’s not. You went through a lot.”

I shrugged. Story of my life. “I’ve been through a lot before.”

“I know you have.” How much did she know about my past?

I looked down, picking at the skin around my nails until one of them started to lightly bleed. “He’s the reason my brother is dead.” My eyes stung with tears I didn’t bother to blink back, and one slipped down my cheek.

“That’s not exactly true. He just couldn’t prevent it from happening.” Grace took my hand, brushing her thumb over the top of my knuckles. “He beat himself up for it for years. I don’t know if he ever stopped. He would’ve done anything for Dickie.”

“How can you say that? He didn’t even come to the funeral.” I sniffled, and my throat burned. I cleared it.

She smiled sympathetically, the way one does when they are faced with someone else’s grief. “He paid for it, though. He tried to stay in touch, but it was painful—for him and your parents. It’s hard to be around someone who reminds you of what you’ve lost. Then, when your parents died…” Grace patted my hand, placing it in her lap but not letting go. “Look, I don’t know what it is about you two, but I’ve never seen my brother react to anything the way he has to you. Then, when he thought he’d almost lost you? Something snapped in him.”

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