Page 69 of Skin Deep

Chapter23

Gigi

It was cold for early spring when we left the hospital three days later. The little bit of sun that was out felt nice on my face as we drove to Harrison’s place. Uncle Tito was bringing mamma over in a bit after she had lunch with Aunt Lola, his wife. She felt safe leaving me with Harrison.

Stella Ranieri was a hard woman to crack, but somehow Harrison had gotten underneath her skin. They even did this odd thing with their hands before we left.

Even though mamma was tough, she was soft in all the right places. I admired that about her. I wished I could be more like her when it came to balance. Instead, I was more like my aunt. I was proud to be like her, too, though. I lovedZiaNoemi.

I sighed. I didn’t want Amadeo to find out. Hewouldn’tfind out.

Before we left the hospital, I agreed to seek treatment. I agreed to fight for this—for me. Because being here meant that I got to keep this love between us. But I had to be careful with my cousin. He had lost his mamma at a young age. Knowing my life had been mimicking hers…he would take it hard. I refused to let anyone tell him about it. He thought I was cruising the world, having the time of my life.

I cleared my throat and looked down at my hand. Harrison’s was wrapped around it, holding it tight. “I do not want anyone to know about—”

“Understood.” His eyes were covered in sunglasses, but I could tell they were hard on the road.

He was almost paranoid about it. He’d told me everything that was going on with his family, but I was no stranger to criminal dealings. I was going to tell him that—argue about why I should stay. But he had never wanted to send me away. It seemed like he pulled me closer.

Even though Harrison had seen me at my lowest, I appreciated that he never pitied me. I never saw that in his eyes. He looked at me the same way he had before. But maybe with more determination. And more passion. He looked at me like he’d missed me.

“Grazie,” I said.

“For?” He gave me a glance from the side of his eye.

“Not pitying me,” I said. “I don’t need it. I don’t want it. If this is going to work, you have to promise me that—”

“No need,” he said. “You might have your weak moments, but you’re one of the strongest women I know. If it wasn’t for you being so ballsy, we wouldn’t be here. Then where would I be?”

I smiled a little. So did he.

We rode around New York for a bit in his sister’s car before we stopped and picked up Chinese food for lunch. Then he took me to his house on Staten Island. I stood outside of the car while he grabbed my one bag, staring at his place.

“I’m selling it,” he said, coming to stand next to me.

“Why?” I asked. It seemed like a place Nonno would say had many memories. A place where the muse in the wall would talk to him.

He shrugged. “I thought we could pick a place together.”

I turned toward him. He was staring at the house.

“You do pity me,” I said.

“No, baby,” he said, turning his face some, to meet my eyes. “I pity everyone around me when you’re not around.”

“How miserable?” I said with a slight smile.

He chuckled, wrapping his arm around my neck, pulling me in close. He kissed me hard on the temple. “My brothers refuse to sugarcoat shit. Ask them.”

“Your sister?”

He shrugged. “Same.”

I knew she didn’t like me because I didn’t like Mari. Truth was, I was still a bit jealous of her. Maybe it was possible to love two people at once—Elias had said so—and I wondered if Harrison still had feelings for her. To love someone—or believe you did—that long? It wasn’t something that could be turned off like a faucet. And I had somewhat come to understand the terms of my jealousy. It was not so much Mariposa herself, but what she stood for.

She was good. Kind. The world couldn’t turn her sour, even after she’d been through so much. I remembered how much Harrison had admired that about her. The world had done the opposite to me. It had turned me so bitter that my skin felt like acid sometimes.

“Come on,” he said, tugging on me. “Let’s go inside.”

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