“Not all YA books are clean, Rome. I know this author. Her books literally contain porn in written form.”
Frowning, Rome leaned forward and picked up the paperback. Started flipping through the pages.
I glanced at Harley. Did she read those kinds of books or how did she know?
“What the—” Rome kept reading, his mood turning blacker by the passage. After scanning several pages, he punched to his feet and turned toward the stairs. “Giuliana Arianna Marino!”
Way too fast she appeared at the gallery over us, like she’d been listening in. “What?”
“Get down here!” She took her sweet time, and when she was downstairs, Rome barked something in Italian as he held up the paperback.
Giuliana rolled her eyes. “Calm down. It’s just a book.”
“Just a book,” Rome muttered, the first time his Italian accent bled through. He pressed a fist to his mouth, then released it. “Do I need to read out loud so we can all decide if this isjust a book?”
“No!” Wide amber eyes came to me.
“I second that no,” I cut in blatantly. For one to support Giuliana, for another to avoid putting images in my head that would most definitely make me stumble. I was already close to the abyss with the dreams I’d had lately.
“Why do you read this kind of stuff, huh?” The paperback crumpled in Rome’s grip. “This is porn. Stuff like that rots your brain and gives you wrong ideas. Not to mention how unrealistic it is what this author wrote.”
“Most of these books are unrealistic,” Harley said.
Giuliana had her eyes cast to the floor, chin tucked. I felt sorry for her, but it was an important lesson.
“Go to your room.” Rome gestured upstairs. “We’ll talk about this later.” After Giuliana had made herself scarce, he stalked tothe fireplace, tossed the book inside, and returned to his spot on the sofa. Scraped a hand over his face. “Why on this rotten planet would an adult author write stuff like that for teens?” he muttered. “And that cover looks so innocent.”
“That’s what I’d like to know.” Harley took a sip of her Family Reserve. “If you want I can give you a list of safe authors. There are plenty of amazing clean and closed-door books available.”
He nodded, then leaned back, tumbler in hand. His eyes drifted shut, then he opened them again. “How can I help you guys?”
I glanced over at Harley, but she’d gone mute. “Does the Mafia have contacts in the DRPD?” I asked.
Taking a swig from his Family Reserve, Rome glanced over the glass at me. “Why?”
“I’m hiding from Craig because he caught me watching him kill two guys in cold blood,” Harley said. “There were two men with him who looked like your people.”
“What gives you that idea?”
“They looked Italian. Black clothes”—she gestured at his black button-down and slacks—“and . . . I don’t know. The typical Italian style.”
Rome leaned in and rested his elbows on his thighs. “You need to stay out of this, Harley.”
She downed her Family Reserve in one go. Made a face. “I can’t. Those men are hiding something. They had weapons or a bomb or a nuke or something. They are a danger to the island.”
“They’re gonna be much more to you if you meddle in their affairs.” His tone was low now, almost threatening.
“Please, Rome. This is important to me.”
Muttering a curse in Italian, he raked a hand through his hair. “I know of nothing but will keep my eyes and ears open.” His amber eyes darkened. “And I’ll take care of Craig Fuller.”
“No!” Harley shook her head, her red hair flying. “Promise me you won’t hurt him.”
“Already told you I can’t make that promise.”
She huffed, her shoulders slouching. “I knew I shouldn’t have told you.”
“He would’ve told me.” Smirking, Rome jutted his chin at me.