Page 57 of Make You Mine

Raising my eyebrow in question, he chuckles and then elaborates. “I met Trevor through a mutual friend, and one night, all three of us got too drunk for our own good, and secrets were spilled. There was no going back after that. Trevor and I formed an unlikely bond. A few months later, we realized our siblings were in love with each other, and you were miserable with the fact you were arranged to marry the soon-to-be boss of NYC, a life I knew you didn’t want any part of. Trevor and I thought Trent’s best chance of breaking you from those chains was having the backing and power that came along with being a Saint. Over time, my own vendetta with Junior formed, and that’s when Nico and I sat down for the first time. Ashley, if I had known what you’ve been going through, I would have gone to him a long time ago.” Trent’s slip-up about the history between Cass, Micah, and Trevor makes me wonder if this is about her. I shut that thought down real quick, not wanting to think of my brother’s sexual proclivities.

“I can’t imagine how on edge you must feel.” I squeeze his arm in comfort.

“Ha! I’ve always had to watch my back. At least now I know I have some good ones watching it for me too.”

“Thank you, Micah.”

He makes a face at me.

“I mean it. It means the world to me knowing I have someone like you in my corner.”

“You have plenty of people looking out for you. I'm just glad I'm part of the team, not only for your safety, but to rid the world of that piece of shit.”

“Love you, big brother,” I say as we pull up to our childhood home.

“Love you too, principessa,” he replies, and I swat at his arm. “Ouch… The fuck?”

“I fucking hate being called that!” My arms cross over my chest in defiance as he jokingly rubs the reddened print on his arm.

“But Dad always called you that.”

“Yes, and he was the only one I would ever allow to do so.” Just another thing Junior has ruined for me.

He raises his hands in surrender. “Alright, won’t do it again. Damn, your nails hurt.”

“Aww, I'm sorry, big guy. I didn’t know you were so fragile,” I tease before exiting the car.

He follows behind me, mocking me. But I can't help the smile I'm sporting when we get to the front door. Although there’s still so much left uncertain, I finally feel the shards of my life are clicking back into place, like the last few pieces of a puzzle that’s taken years to put together.

Mom spent most of brunch filling us in on the latest gossip from last night’s Mahjong game with her girlfriends. I'mthankful for the reprieve her excitement to share all the details gives me.

We’re just about finished cleaning the kitchen, when Micah’s phone rings.

“Excuse me, ladies,” he says and steps out of the room.

“Thanks for cooking. It was delicious.” Isabelle Castrovinci is a great cook, but no one holds a candle to my grandma’s skills.

My mom grabs my hand and smiles at me. “I'm glad you’re both here. We need to make more time for each other, spend more time as a family. I miss you guys.”

“Aw, Mom, I miss you too.”

“It’s weird not having him around.” Her voice wobbles as she wipes a tear from her cheek. “He loved you both so much.” She says this line in some form or another every time we're together. I don’t know if this is her way of apologizing on his behalf, or if she’s trying to remind us of his presence.

Her world revolved around my father, and with him gone, I was afraid she’d lose herself. I know that feeling all too well. I thought I could literally die at any moment those first few months after Trent disappeared.

Micah walks back into the kitchen, grabbing his keys off the counter. “I gotta go. Love you,” he says, giving Mom a kiss on her cheek, then me. “Luca should be here soon to scoop you up,” he adds.

“Okay, love you too,” she replies back, but he’s already out of the room.

Mom makes her way to the table and motions for me to sit with her. She studies me for a few moments before she speaks. “You seem happier lately. I hope you know that’s all I ever wanted for you.”

“I am happier. One day, hopefully soon, I’ll be able to tell you all about it.” I smile. I know I claimed to be a shell of the woman I once was, but I guess it was more obvious than I thought. I assumed I was still putting on a good outward show.

“I understand, sweetie.” She gives me a genuine smile, then reaches for my hand. “I’m here for you if you need anything.”

The grandfather clock in the hallway sounds, alerting me it’s one o’clock.

Shit, I’m running out of time.

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