Page 134 of The Deadly Candies

Kathy smiled when she saw her. She scooted over, made room. They squeezed in side by side like old times, arms around each other.

“I’m gonna miss you,” Kathy whispered.

“I’m gonna miss you more,” Debbie said, hugging her tighter. “So? How was it? I want details, girl. We haven’t had two seconds to talk since the wedding.”

Kathy chuckled, a little shy. “It wasn’t like you said. Didn’t hurt much at all. I liked it, actually.”

Debbie’s eyes widened. “Then his pee-pee must be lil’—’cause Matteo nearly killed me,” she cackled.

“Debbie!” Kathy swatted her arm, laughing. “It ain’t small! He just took his time with me. Made sure I liked it, that’s all.”

They both laughed again, the kind that makes you lean on each other and forget for a moment how heavy things really are.

“You and Carmelo didn’t even say any vows,” Debbie said. “Matteo and I said ours like we were in a church. He was so sweet, trying to explain how he loves me and the baby. I could barely hold it together. It was… funny and magical.”

Kathy put her arm around her cousin’s shoulders. “I’m glad you got that. You deserve it. You need peace, Debs. For this baby, for yourself.”

“I want that for you, too. You and Carmelo,” Debbie said softly.

Kathy’s smile faded. “Me too. Leaving him again? It hurt. We had a fight, but we made up. He’s... he’s everything to me. I know you ain’t supposed to let a man be your whole world, but... he’s mine.”

“I get it. Matteo’s the same for me. He keeps talkin’ crazy about us all living under one roof—me, him, and his mamma. Like he’s already Don or something.” Debbie snorted. “I love him, but he ain’t living in reality.”

“Let him dream,” Kathy said, eyes fixed on the Harlem skyline. “Dreams are all we got right now.”

Debbie turned toward her. “So… you really leavin’? Mama said it’s your decision this time.”

Kathy nodded. “It never really was my choice. But yeah. I’m going. Y’all comin’ down for Christmas. Mama’s comin’ back for Easter. We’ll try to make it work... a year or two, maybe.”

Debbie blinked. “A year? What you mean a year?”

Kathy shrugged, voice low. “Carmelo’s got plans. Big ones. I used to believe in ‘em. But now... I dunno. It’s harder to hold on to hope.”

“Don’t say that,” Debbie said firmly. “You can’t give up, Kathy. You and Carmelo—y’all are meant for each other. Just like me and Matteo. Things are gonna work out. You’ll see.”

Kathy gave a tired but genuine smile. She leaned in and kissed Debbie on the cheek.

“You’re gonna make a great mama,” she said.

Debbie wiped her cheek like she was annoyed, but her grin gave her away. “You better write me every week, girl. You hear?”

Kathy nodded, her gaze drifting back toward the glowing Harlem streets, holding on to the last bit of warmth before the cold set in.

40

Mont-Tremblant, Quebec - 1978

The Don’s eyes snapped open. The vivid dream—so real, decades later, the pain was still raw—still clung to him. Why now? He remembered Matteo’s frantic pleas to the police, his father’s pale fear when they mentioned his Ma. Even as he’d assured them it would be all right, he’d known it was already too late.

He turned and glanced at Kathy, her grey-streaked hair fanned across the pillow. It wasn’t her age that caused the lovely silver to appear, and the moment he saw traces of it in her hair, he fell even more hopelessly in love with her beauty. It was Kathy. She was the most remarkable woman he’d ever known. From the time she was his and all the bitter years she wasn’t, no one could replace her.

Gently, he slid an arm beneath the covers toward her body. She hardly stirred. Carmelo eased down beside her, pressing close. Kathy groaned as he went between her thighs, waking slowly from her blissful sleep.

“Melo? What… what…time is it?”

First, he started with his tongue. She fell silent. A soft hiss of a sigh escaped her. The ways he teased her clitoris while her bottom bounced on the sheets, the flames of passion he drove into her turned to deep, ragged gasps for air. She shot upright and pushed at his head, resisting the quake of climactic relief his mouth promised. She kicked her feet because the feeling went from good to unbearably decadent too fast. But there would be no release. Carmelo was stronger. A former boxer, a ruthless killer, the Boss of all Bosses in New York, he claimed his woman the way he claimed everything in life, without compromise.

Carmelo’s hand went to her stomach, and with only his hand, he forced her back down to lie flat. Pinned her there, knees parted, thighs shaking, hips rolling, her pussy on his tongue. He reached up to squeeze her breasts and fondle her nipples. He pushed at her thighs with his broad shoulders. The pressure made her knees bend. The heels of her feet drumming on his back.

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