Page 14 of Weaponized

“Don’t expect you to.”

“I made a bit of a scene.”

This causes Matteo to laugh loudly. “Oh, Luca. You don’t do anything in half measures. Now that you’ve publicly claimed this girl, what’s next?”

“I—I don’t know. We didn’t really talk much.”

Matteo raises a brow. Oh, shit. I didn’t mean to imply anything happened with Gráinne…

“No. I mean, no. We didn’t do anything. I just ran into her outside our bathroom.”

“So, you ran into her and what? Decided it’d be fun to hold hands?” He’s grinning like a loon.

Hearing it out loud makes me realize how stupid I’m being. She wanted me to walk her out because she was freaked out by Gianni. We weren’t making a grand love connection. I shift uncomfortably on my feet. Matteo can see my doubt.

“Luca, I turned on the charm with that girl. She never looked at me like she looks at you.” Matteo’s humor is gone and his declaration stops me cold. It’s as if he knows what I need to hear. I haveneverbeen anyone’s first choice. Matteo is always the one people flock to. Everyone assumes he will lead the Family one day, and despite my desire for a bigger role, I’ve done nothing to dispel that notion. There’s a part of me that believes I should accept standing in his shadow. Monsters belong in the dark. They certainly don’t get the girl. Especially not a girl like Gráinne O’Toole.

I have no idea how to react to the thought that she mightactuallylike me. “I—I don’t know. I mean, I’m not sure what—”

“It’s meant to be, brother. The two of you fit.”

This has gotten deep quickly, and he’s getting way ahead of himself. I’m not so sure about his assessment. First of all, we don’t fit. She is beauty and light. I am the opposite of that in every way. Second of all, I wasn’t looking for my other half. At twenty-one, I’d already decided that a love match would never be possible for me. I have too many scars—mentally and physically.No one would want to willingly be saddled with that. I’m not foolish enough to think that my attraction—as powerful as it is—to the golden Irish girl would change that. But, I also understand that my brother wants that type of relationship for me. His major purpose in life is to ensure my happiness, elusive as it may be. He holds onto a guilt where I’m concerned, one that no amount of my absolution seems to abate.

I only remember that time in occasional nightmares because I have forcibly pushed it so far into a remote compartment of my brain that the flashbacks wouldn’t dare visit me when I am conscious. But, looking into Matteo’s eyes right now, I see it. The desperation for me to want this girl as much as I already do. It’s as if he thinks she could be my savior, one I haven’t even been asking for. He rarely shows any emotion at all, so this display is disconcerting to say the least. I scan the yard. We shouldn’t do this here, with prying eyes taking in our movements. I’ve already given them enough of a show.

“I should probably take a bow, so we can go inside,” I tell him gruffly, which causes Matteo to look around. He blinks twice, clearing the fog, remembering where we are.

“Yeah, we should go inside.” But his face is going blank again. This conversation, and wishing better for me, is taking him back to that place. The time when he was powerless to help me.

I can hear my brother screaming, though I am the one strapped to the table. It drowns out the sound of my blood dripping on the red floor. I’m facedown with nothing to see but that damn floor. I can’t even see the man who is hell-bent on my pain and suffering.I feel the sting of the whip again, and I huff out a breath.

“Your father thinks he is pretty smart,” the masked man taunts. There is an accent but I can’t place it. “Let’s see how he likes me sending his little heir back in pieces while the insignificant spare gets to watch.” The beating goes on until I pass out. Again.

I was told I was tortured for just over three days while Matteo was strapped to a chair to watch. We were given only small amounts of water and left to soak in our own piss. I lost consciousness during some of that time, but unfortunately for Matteo, he did not. He was untouched and awake the entire time, watching every slash, cut, and blow. Hearing every grunt, sob, and whimper. He eventually lost his voice from begging and pleading. At one point, I remember yelling at him tojust please shut upand close his eyes. Go somewhere far away. I had no idea how often he’d visit that place in the future.

At some point, we were dropped off, broken, in front of one of my father’s businesses. We were filthy, dehydrated, and one of us was still bleeding. That was five years ago. My dad hasn’t stopped the search for who took his boys. I guess when you have so many enemies, it’s hard to pin down a single suspect. I don’t expect to be able to deliver justice anymore.

I’ve moved on. Mostly. I still have occasional nightmares and I’m sure my need to stay in top shape relates to never wanting to be in that position again. My bursts of anger started afterward as well.

Matteo shuts off. I can’t say either of us was the same after the kidnapping, but he completely transformed. He broke up with his high school sweetheart. A girl he’d loved since we were ten years old.He stopped laughing and joking. He started drinking more. Over the years, he’s managed to smile a bit more but he’s not the carefree teenager I remember. He cares about nothing, except for me. Even his interest in the family business is so that I’ll have something to inherit one day. If I want it, he says it’s mine. If I don’t, he’ll do whatever I need. He won’t rest until I’ve found peace.

So, I appreciate that he wants me to find someone. He is just overestimating my ability to interest a girl like that. I know I’ll see her again in a couple days. We have a class together after all. I have until then to figure out what to do.

Gráinne

I walk into my Spanish class on Wednesday still a little disoriented from the night before. My brother struggled on the walk back to my place. I didn’t have to ask him anything because he rambled on for the entire ten minutes it took to reach my door. I listened as he told me that I’d done a good job of interesting one of the Larozzis after only a few short days. Being seen holding Luca’s hand would keep our father happy for now, since word would definitely get around, and that I could make things easier for Rowan’s plan by keeping the Italians comfortable.

His elusive plan. He shared only sparse details so that I understood the risks and what was at stake. Apparently, my father has been talking to the Russians about getting into the flesh trade. Yes, I mean kidnapping and selling women. Rowan believes he can find enough men in the clan to support an uprising against my father if he can also obtain an alliance externally. “There would have to be a strong ally to support such a takeover. And who better than the most powerful mafia family in the country?” Rowan shared with me. “I’ve been having some very preliminary conversations with Victor Larozzi. Seems he also has no interest in women being stolen off the streets.Competes somehow with his brothels. Regardless, Victor doesn’t want the flesh trade to grow, and I am certain there are enough men in our clan who agree.” Bringing all of that strength together is his plan to tear down the evil that is Cormac O’Toole.

“If you get close to Luca, it could help Victor feel more comfortable,” he mused. “But, I’m not sure if the unstable brother is the one you should date, G. Plus, Victor might see it for the setup it is. Awfully convenient timing—me approaching him and you dating one of his sons. I don’t want you doing any obvious snooping while I’m trying to feel out the Italians.”

I understood his concern. After all, my father is feared by everyone who has ever met him, and crossing him would be a death sentence if caught. Nonetheless, I promised Rowan that I could seed in Luca’s mind that our father isn’t well loved—not by us and not by many in the clan—in the hope it gets back to Victor. I can both share and gather information without beingobviousat all. I am better at my job than he knows.

When my brother finally began arguing with himself over that plan, I tuned him out. I was too busy remembering the expression on Luca’s face. The way his muscles flexed and his big shoulders hunched over as he tried to step away from me in the hall. How rough his large, calloused hand felt against mine. How he applied just a little reassuring pressure to let me know he was there. How he was totally focused on making me feel safe from his friend.

Hatred isn’t what I feel for you.

Yes. I believe that now. I could see that it was lust, not disdain, that lit his eyes last night. It should scare me, but instead, I was enthralled.

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