Page 32 of Bittersweet Endings
Rocco was barking at me, but I couldn’t hear him over the sound of my own heartbeat. Left. Right. Left. Over and over. My fists pummeled into the pads, and I ducked under his arms, avoiding him kicking out my legs.
I was covered in sweat, but I was finally feeling like the best version of myself. Even ifhehaunted my mind.
“Oomph.” Landing on my back, I blinked past the stars in my eyes as Rocco leaned over me.
“Get your head out of your ass, girl! Get in the game or get out of the ring!” he barked.
I swung out a leg, and he jumped to avoid me taking him down. It was enough of a distraction to allow me to roll to my feet. We started sparring again, but before I knew it, my body was exhausted and my mind had slowly shut down.
“Better.” Rocco tossed me a water bottle as I sat on the mats. “I lost you for a few there, but you picked it back up. Don’t let them see you drop your guard. We need to work on your poker face.”
“My face or my heart?” I flopped onto my back, my chest heaving.
“Both.” Once again, Rocco’s eyes appeared haunted. “If you drop your guard, it’ll be open for people to take everything from you until there’s nothing left.” He reached out a hand. I accepted it and he pulled me to my feet and patted my back.
“Don’t I know it.”Don’t I fucking know it.
I showered at the gym and then Rocco took me back to my apartment. I was responding to emails, relaxing on the sofa, when a picture came through. Marco was holding a glass of some kind of liquor.
Peace offering? Your fav place?
The bastard made me smile. While he was technically on Lucky’s side since he was one of the captains, he was still the same ol’ Marco. Except a little more grown up and a lot more hardened.
I quickly changed before texting Rocco, who was down to come. In fact, he was going to have someone meet him there. I smiled.
Two birds. Several drinks.
***
Marco was seated in the back of an old bar, nestled in the heart of New York. It was down a long alley, outdated but somehow modernized. An all-wooden interior with an ornate bar and stools, and two fireplaces with traditional trim.
My brother had been right. It was one of my favorite places.
“Damn, sis.” Marco stood to hug me. “Bitch. Cocky. Once damaged. You look good.”
He was such an asshole, but when his dimple popped out, I couldn’t be mad at him.
Rocco moved to the front of the bar as some blonde walked in and joined him. My darling brother ogled the girl before turning back to me. We rambled on about the family and updates on things. I told him about my business and the new authors I was trying to sign.
“California,” he deadpanned. “I bet there’s no talking you out of it. So, you’re not going alone.”
I went to comment thatof course Rocco was coming,but Marco cut me off.
“I’m coming too.” He gave me that boyish grin, and I shook my head. Then he turned almost solemn.
Marco swirled his glass on the table, staring like an answer to some unspoken riddle was hidden in the whiskey. His fingers tapped against the table, an uneven rhythm that didn’t match the fast beating of the pulse in his neck.
“All right,” I said, tossing back my own drink and ordering us another round. “What’s going on?”
He let out a sharp exhale. Like he’d been holding something in for too long and was unsure how to release it without shattering. Whatever it was, it was also what caused the change in my once fun-loving and irresponsible brother.
He didn’t meet my eyes at first, just continued to stare at theglass and rub at the condensation sliding onto the table. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet but heavy.
“You ever have someone just… vanish?”
I frowned, waving a hand as if to sayreally?After everything that happened to me, pretty sure I did. But he didn’t laugh. I thanked the bartender before asking, “Like, ghost you?”
“No.” Marco shook his head slightly. “I mean, yeah, at first. But I mean, like completely gone. Like she never existed.”
