Page 15 of This Thing of Ours

He thought back to the first time he’d seen her soon after Nico had brought him home. She couldn’t have been more than twelve. He’d been barely more than a kid himself when Nico had found him, living in a rat-infested apartment he’d shared with his drunk-ass father.

Things had always been tough—growing up with a gambler who’d lost more than he won hadn’t lent itself to a fruitful environment. But the year he would turn eighteen, things had come to a head. His sister had bailed that year, and while it was one less mouth to feed, it was also one less paycheck. Already a few months behind on the rent, their shithole landlord had finally roused himself enough to leave a pay-or-quit notice on their door, and that had been the beginning of the end.

The piece-of-shit job he’d had while trying to finish his last year of high school hadn’t paid more than the bit of food he’d managed to keep in the kitchen and the gas and electricity it took to cook it. And he’d known he’d have to drop out of school and find himself a full-time gig. He hadn’t been foolish enough to have lofty dreams, but even the small dreams he’d had would’ve been crushed without a high-school diploma.

After ten years of service to the family and more money than Marco had ever hoped to achieve in a single lifetime, he knew it’d been fate that had brought Nico to his door that long-ago night, expecting payback for gambling debts incurred by his old man but taking Marco instead. He knew he owed Nico his loyalty and he had it a hundredfold. But even his loyalty to Nico couldn’t protect against the consequences of his feelings for Gabriella Conti. Feelings he’d always known might one day get him exiled from the family if they were ever revealed.

Looked like that day might be upon him.

Gabriella’s soft voice pulled him from his thoughts, and he looked down to find her eyes on him. “What?” He leaned in closer to catch her words over the wind blowing through Nico’s open window and the tires speeding over asphalt.

“I said, go ahead and say it.”

He drew his brows together. “Say what?”

She exhaled a small sigh before whispering, “I told you so.”

He squeezed her a little tighter, too relieved they’d found her—and found her alive—to worry about anything as petty as gloating. His lips touched the top of her head where he closed his eyes and breathed her in before murmuring, “Never.”

Chapter Seven

The steady humof the tires and the warmth of Marco’s arms almost lulled Gabby to sleep, but they pulled through the gates of her home before she could completely succumb. Seeing her parents’ house come into view jolted her to full wakefulness and panic set in. She wasn’t ready to be interrogated. Wasn’t ready to face the consequences of her stupidity. The anger from her father. The worry from her mother. She just needed some time… alone.

As Nico put the car in park, her whole body tightened, which must’ve alerted Marco because he asked, “What’s wrong?”

She clutched the front of his shirt. “I want to go home.”

A frown appeared between his brows. “You are home.”

“No, my home. I’m not ready to face anyone yet.”

“You need to see a doctor.”

She desperately shook her head. “I’m fine. Truly. I just need a shower and some sleep.”

“Gabriella—”

“Please.” She leaned in closer, abusing his shirt further, and with a heartfelt whisper, repeated, “Please.”

The back door was whisked open, and Nico was there, reaching for her. “Come on, polpetta.”

Marco’s arms tightened around her as the two men stared at each other.

Nico was the first to speak. “Don’t overstep, my friend.” While the words sounded like friendly advice, the warning was clear in his tone.

But Marco didn’t back down, and Gabby had never been more grateful. “She needs a little time. Just tonight.”

“You’re an authority now?”

The tension was thick, sucking all the oxygen from the car and making it hard for Gabby to breathe. Or it might have been Marco’s arms which had grown tighter around her.

“Her request.”

Nico’s eyes flashed to hers and held. She watched the tension leave his face as something like sympathy overtook his expression the longer he held her gaze. If it got her what she wanted, she’d take all the pity she could get.

He sighed, his shoulders deflating. “I’ll go in and explain, but Greene has been called, and you will see him.”

“I don’t need a doctor, Nico.” Her voice was so low it was a wonder he’d heard her.

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