Page 336 of Vicious Saint
Unlike the deadbeat I never met and the thrusted upon rich stepdad.
Carlo wasn’t only a sweet, scary mobster.
He became the only man besides Grandpa I could ever really trust.
The family I chose.
And when Carlo left this world, he took those filled spaces along with him. Leaving me here, unsure how to move on with them empty again.
“Signorina…” A distant male voice breaks through my thoughts, and when I shoot my gaze to where it came from I find a vision of Carlo, with bright light surrounding him like an angel. He’s got an amused grin tilting his lips, the same one he’d wear every time I’d say or do something ridiculous. Especially if it was to piss off Saint.
Please come back, I beg him.I miss you so much.
Carlo’s face widens into a full on smile.
So, I smile in return with tears welling my eyes, not bothering to stop them as they trickle down my cheek.
“Hendrix.” My mother comes through, making Carlo start to fade and my heart break all over again.
“No…please don’t go,” I murmur right before a shake to my shoulder sends whatever’s left of his face poofing into thin air.
“Hendrix…” Mom continues shaking me, and I blink rapidly at her. “Let go before it breaks even more.”
As if it could get any worse than this.
I must’ve said the words out loud, because Mom interprets my hurt as a reference to the necklace I’m squeezing.
“I’m almost done,signorina.” The old Italian man tries to reassure me as I loosen my grip, but instead I’m hit with a sharp pang in my chest.
“Please, stop calling me that,” I tell him, drifting my gaze in the direction Carlo was a second ago.
“It’s just…eh…custom.”
“I know what it is.”
Antonio nods, and nothing else is spoken between us as he finishes working. Mom and Vic stand beside me, examining what’s left of the gash on my head from surgery, all while I ruminate over the times I argued with Carlo about his use ofsignorina, and what I’d give to hear him call me the name one more time.
Mom over emphasizes how well I’m healing, triggering the same response from Vic, the two of them going on like this with every bruise until Antonio announces he’s finished.
I snatch the necklace from him, and without thinking, wrap it around my neck. I’m amidst a power struggle with the new clasp when Saint enters the room, balancing a tray of food in his hands. “Breakfast for lunch, Jimi. Just how you like it,” he says, noting my frustration as he places the tray on the table. Then, unlike the three unsure-what-to-do dingbats in the room, steps in to help secure the necklace around my neck.
Looking down I find each of my favorites—pancakes, crispy bacon, sausage, two tall glasses of orange juice. Even a fresh pack of Newports. All of which, around two months ago, would’ve easily earned Saint a good “thank you” fucking. But I haven’t even had the will to smoke a cigarette, let alone have sex.
A few seconds pass as I stare at the plate, then, when no rumble forms in my stomach, I go back to blank staring out the window.
Saint parks himself backwards on one of the chairs, not the least bit surprised by my lack of interest in food, him, oranything. Something to be expected from a guy spending almost two months holding the shell of his girlfriend together.
“Everyone out,” he orders, voice cracking like a whip, then without bothering to clean up his station, Antonio leaves the room with Vic. As for my mother, well, she opts for a stare down with Saint instead.
“That means you too,Juniper.” He spits her name, and if it were any other time with Carlo still here, I’d wonder why the tension between them has grown so thick.
But it’s not any other time, and Carlo isn’t here, along with my fucks to give about what’s going on in this family.
Salvini’s beef with the Ivanovs.
Ivanov’s beef with the Lavells.
Mom’s lies. Mysterious calls.
