Page 79 of Straightened Out

Let him cry.

Let them all fucking realize this is what happens when you cross me.

When Rienzi starts to foam at the mouth, I loosen my grip slightly. I tell myself the last thing Violet needs to see is another fucking death, bad enough I ruined our fucking dinner. As if on cue, I hear her voice sound.

“Rocco, what the hell are you doing?”

I lift my head and turn around to see Violet standing behind me, her eyes wide and trained to Rienzi. I let him go and take a step back. Her gaze meets mine and for fleeting second, I see the horror reflected in them. The same fucking horror I saw the night Pilar was killed.

“Don’t look so surprised, Bug,” I mutter.

Dino and Carmine rush to Rienzi’s aid as he coughs and tries to catch his breath. I glance at the waiter who wears the same expression as Violet and ask him for the check. Violet’s shoulders straighten and she moves toward the table. I watch as she pours a glass of water for Rienzi and offers it to him.

Still struggling to reclaim his breath, he stares at her outstretched hand and back to me. I don’t say a fucking word as the anger continues to flood my veins. He finally takes the water from her and I watch the bruises form on his neck as he forces a swallow. Pulling the glass away from his lips, he lifts his gaze back to me.

“At your uncle’s request, be at the prison tomorrow.”

Not feeling the need to reply, I turn to Violet.

“I think we’re done here.”

~*~

The rideback to my house was silent for the most part. Violet tried to talk to me, but I was still reeling from the shit she dumped on me and my altercation with Rienzi, not to mention the news that Uncle Vic was being transferred to North Carolina. In all the talks we’ve had since that fateful night when he told me he was handing me his organization, not once did he mention a transfer. I almost want to call Bianci to see if he had any knowledge of this turn of events but when I enter the house and see I have a missed call from him, along with six from Rienzi and three blocked calls that are likely from the prison, I decide against it.

“So, that’s it? You’re just going to remain silent for the rest of the night?” Violet asks as I make my way to the kitchen. Ignoring her, I open the wine fridge under the island and pull out the first bottle I see. She steps around the island before I can grab a glass and pulls it out of my hand. Slamming it down against the granite, she glares at me.

“What the hell was that about?”

“I told you not to ask questions.”

“And I thought you knew me better than to assume I’d be your puppet.”

Frustrated, I comb my fingers through my hair. Hand to God, I do not want to fight with her right now.

“Look, today has been a long fucking day,” I start. “I’m not in the mood to go toe to toe with you, right now.”

“Well, that’s just too bad. You never answered my question back at the restaurant when I asked you if you agreed with my mother, but I’m starting to think you don’t have to. Your actions right now are telling me all I need to know.”

“I don’t even know what the fuck that means,” I fire back. “I’ve had one thing after another thrown at me today. My head is pounding and all I want to do is fucking shut down for the night. I don’t want to think about your mother, or whoever this Yankovich guy is and I don’t want to spend my night analyzing why my uncle is being transferred. I just want to be left alone!”

I want to get fucked up too.

So fucked up that I don’t know my name.

But I leave that part out.

“Then maybe I should leave,” she snaps. “Bruno is still outside, I’m sure he won’t mind driving me home.”

Whether she means to bait me or not, I take it and before either of us can blink, I pin her against the island.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

Fire sparks in her eyes as she juts her chin defiantly.

“I’d like to see you try and stop me,” she spats.

Her nostrils flare and just like that, we’re back to basics—tempting and taunting one another. I don’t know who makes the first move, if it’s her or me, but our mouths fuse together and our tongues take charge of the battle waging between us.

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