Page 65 of Protecting Charity

"Charity, you have to answer it," Nico said from the couch.

It had only been a few days, but I knew why my Dad was calling. I stared at my ringing phone, seeing his picture, and dreading these next moments.

"Charity…"

"I know." I exhaled, situated myself on the edge of my seat while tapping my finger against the table, then answered the phone.

"Hi, Dad."

"Hi, Cupcake, how are you?"

"I'm okay. You?"

"We are managing."

I willed the tears to disappear as I bit my lip to keep them from falling. I didn't understand how I could still have them and in such abundance. Luca reached across the table and rubbed my hand, giving me a comforting smile to go along with his touch. As much as I wanted it to work, I didn't feel any better. Nothing would make this feel any less surreal or better.

These last few days have taught me I still have a heart because I felt the piece my brother held shatter into a million dust particles, not just the night his life slipped from my fingers, but every day since. It was all I could do to get out of bed—to just function. I couldn't get his lifeless gaze out of my mind, and the nightmares didn't help.

"That's good."

"Sorry, this is last minute, but I wanted to tell you the funeral is tomorrow at noon. I'll send you a text with all the information so you won't forget."

Max told me he did as I asked and took care of Josh for me. I knew he wouldn't fail me. Max designed a carjacking gone wrong by putting Josh in his car, in a parking lot with no cameras for miles, and shattered the window. Dad said they were still trying to figure out where the original crime scene took place, seeing as there was barely any blood in the car and mud was everywhere.

I prayed Dad never discovered the answers he was looking for, the ones I knew he deserved, but to find Josh's killer would be the day he would lose both of his children. I thought maybe it would destroy him to put me behind bars, but seeing how distant he has been through all of this since the dinner had me questioning just how strong I thought our father-daughter relationship was.

"I won't forget. Thanks, Dad."

The urge to drown my sorrows in a bottle of whiskey was all too tempting, seeing as it would help me stop the gnawing thoughts of failure always at the forefront, but I knew I couldn't stoop to that level. If I took that damning step, it would be the snake eating its tail, and it would be all for naught.

He exhaled a heavy sigh in my ear, then answered, "I've got to get back to your mother. Bye, Cupcake."

"Bye."

I placed my phone back on the table and put my hand over Luca's, silently thanking him for lending me his strength, then stood and walked into my room and shut the door. I was hoping the conversation with him would have been more heartfelt and less businesslike. I needed my dad, and he refused to be there for me, so I've been keeping to myself, causing the guys to be uneasy that I may do something rash, or go off the deep end and leave a trail of bodies behind me. It had crossed my mind a time or two, but who do I go after? Who do I take this misery out on? I still have a little girl to find, and I couldn't even bear to hear her name.

Collapsing to the floor, purposely blocking the door with my body, I buried my face in my drawn-up knees and soaked my jeans with salty tears that dried out my skin. This pain killed me deep down, more so than any torture, broken bone, or cut I have ever experienced, and I needed it to go away. I wanted to be normal again. I wanted the Charity I was to come back. Where I didn't give a shit anymore, and I could put my big girl panties on and not let the world get me. Where I refused to let my emotions lead, and I handled my business.

Tomorrow was a day I knew my emotions would get the better of me, and I didn't look forward to it. But who looks forward to a funeral? It would be the day I would come face to face with the alternate world I created—a world where my brother no longer existed. A world where I would now have to learn to navigate without a family member in my corner of understanding.

But did he really understand me? I thought he did; it was why I lived my life for him. Why I gave up my future to protect his. Do I continue living this way, or do I end it? Everyone knew you didn't walk away from the Mafia. It was a blood-in, blood-out type of situation, but I had responsibilities and obligations before deciding.

I was Allie's only hope of getting out of her helpless predicament, and that meant her future didn't look so bright if I couldn't bring myself together. I pictured all the probable scenarios taking place with her, and something inside of me fractured. I couldn't allow those things to happen to her. She had already been with her captors for far too long, and it was time to bring her home. But first, I had a funeral to attend—one I was thankful Nico could attend with me.

He has been by my side every day since, while Max and Luca took care of business. Nico had one court case he had to attend that he tried rescheduling, but the judge threatened him with contempt if he didn't show. The stress and worry produced bags under his eyes, and he wasn't getting much sleep, so he was hesitant to leave, but when he came back, I watched the weight leave his shoulders when he saw I was in the same place he left me six hours previously.

After the tears stopped, I pulled myself together and walked back out to the kitchen to grab a water and guzzled it. I stared at the wall, unable to show them I had been crying just moments ago even though I assumed they already knew. It would be hard to ignore the sobs coming from the dim room.

The heaviness in my chest wouldn't let up, adding to the metaphorical damage to my spirit. I couldn't heal when I had his face burned into my mind and etched on my soul.

Luca and Nico sat on the couch, purposefully putting on one of my favorite movies in hopes of attracting my attention, and it did. I gravitated towards them with my eyes glued to the TV. I plopped between them and laid my head in Luca's lap. Nico grabbed my legs and brought them over his lap, then massaged my calves that forced a moan to escape from between my lips.

I bit my knuckles to keep hushed while Luca discreetly played with my hair. The heaviness lifted ever so slightly as they distracted me from the harsh existence I had to live with.

Something that had been eating at me all week and wouldn't go away blurted from my mouth before I could hold it back. "What happens to me now that he's gone?"

Luca stopped stroking my hair, but Nico continued his massage. I can just imagine the silent dialogue they are having, pondering their words very carefully. I didn't want to have such a tough conversation at this very moment, but evidently, my mind needed to know.

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