Page 58 of Cruelest Contract
She releases the pendant and chews her lip. “I’m worried. He promised he’d call but he barely answers my texts. And Angelo is no help. If Gabe is trying to protect me from bad news, I’d rather know the truth.”
“There’s no bad news,” I say, though my opinion of her twin brother plummets even lower.
“Do you really know that for sure?” she blurts and the anxiety in her voice threatens to take me out.
“Yes, I know it for sure,” I assure her. “I promise.”
She exhales with relief. I’m glad she asks no follow up questions.
The truth is that Gabriel Grimaldi is still lounging on a San Diego beach and carelessly spending every dime his grandfather sends him. Mancini has already backed off. The word is out thatGabe has a pass for his latest misdeed. I get the feeling he’ll need another one before long.
Cecilia seems to be unaware that Gabe is free to emerge from hiding. Instead, he prefers to milk the situation and take a vacation while his twin sister agonizes over his fate.
“Thank you,” she says softly.
She shouldn’t be thanking me. Any favors I’ve done on Gabe’s behalf were entirely selfish. I feel a sudden stab of guilt about that.
Tye is the first one to stagger out of the darkness, still looking like he’s been mauled by a bear. He’s borderline drunk and he’s grinning. The truck creaks under the addition of his weight and he sits so close to Cecilia that he physically bumps into her. She flinches away from him and curls against my shoulder.
“Watch it,” I warn my brother. Reaching around Cecilia, I shove him away.
“Sorry,” he says, glancing at Cecilia with genuine concern.
“It’s not you,” she says, “it’s the blood.” She gestures to his shirt, which could double as a horror movie prop. “I really can’t stand the sight of blood.”
“Oh.” Tye yanks the remains of his stained shirt off, tossing it behind us in the pickup bed. He puffs out his muscled chest and grins. “Better now?”
“Good enough,” she says and points to his left arm. “What does your tattoo say?”
“Famiglia è tutto.” He flexes obnoxiously.
“Family is everything,” she translates.
“We all have the same ink,” Tye says. “Got it when we were teenagers. The four of us and our two cousins, Monte and Nico.”
Cecilia turns to me. “You have one too?”
“Yes. Words we live by.”
She’s still staring at my arm as if she expects to see through the shirt fabric when Fort and Getty wander back from their adventures in the brush.
Tye whistles to them. “Show our girl your ink, boys. She wants to see how we match.”
None of my brothers need to be prodded to take off their clothes for a pretty girl. Getty rips all the buttons on his shirt, drops it into the dirt and stands directly in front of Cecilia.
“What else do you wanna see?” He hooks a thumb in the waistband of his pants and drags it an inch lower.
Now I’m grossed out and pissed off. I kick the back of his knee and down he goes. He bounces back up, flips me the bird and then performs a backflip for no reason other than to show off.
Cecilia rubs her arms. “You guys are tough to keep up with.”
“Honey,” Tye says, swinging an arm around her, “you don’t have to take all of us at once. No wonder you look scared.”
“Shut up, Tiberius,” Cecilia says and wriggles out of his embrace.
Laughter explodes, some of it mine.
But insults tend to bounce right off Tye and he winks at her. “I knew you were a keeper the day you got here.”
