Page 8 of Rise of the King

PRESENT DAY...

When you comefrom an Italian family like mine, Christmas isn’t the big holiday. Christmas Eve is. My father’s house fills up with people waiting to eat what my nonna has spent the entire day cooking and the day before that, prepping. Everything is made fresh, from the hand-rolled pasta to the seafood I pick up from the market in South Philly that morning. We have at least fifty people at the house for The Feast of the Seven Fishes before everyone heads to church for a candlelit midnight mass.

When the night ends, it’s with just a few of us opening one present each back at Pop’s house. That was a tradition Mom started before she died, and we’ve never given it up.

Dinner is for The Family.

But after mass is for actual family.

What’s the difference between the two?

The Familymeans my father’s organization. The mafia.

My father is the head of The Family.

Actual family is much smaller.

Me, Bash, Pop and his mother, our nonna, are all the family we have.

I’m loyal to The Family. But my family are the only people I love.

Christmas Day is more laid-back. Bash and I meet at Pop’s for Nonna’s leftovers and to open a few more presents. This year, he and I were going to watch the Kings game at the stadium from the coach’s suite. Bash lives with one of Coach Sinclair’s kids and is good friends with the other two, so this wouldn’t be the first time he’s seen a game this way, but I try to steer clear of his world for the most part.

It’s safer that way.

Today was supposed to be easy.

Fun.

I wasn’t expecting to be driving my brother home from the hospital after he got twelve stitches for a stab wound he got while we saved the ballerina’s life.

“Asshole. I’m not that hopped up on pain pills. I know where you’re going, and you passed the exit for my house.” Bash is a whiney fucker when he’s in pain. “Whatever. Fine. Take me to your place for the night. You gonna give me a sponge bath too?”

I ignore the tantrum he’s throwing and keep driving.

“You gotta at least do me one favor.” He leans his head back and closes his tired eyes.

I glance over at him out of the corner of my eye as I take the exit for my condo. “I don’t have to do anything. You’ve already been a big enough pain in my ass today.” This fucker knows I’d do anything for him, and he wields that weapon well. But he’s testing my patience.

“Shut up, asshole.” He fucking smiles, knowing I’m going to do whatever he needs.

I’ve kept him away from the business side of The Family his entire life. I never expected to be in a situation like we were earlier today with Sebastian by my side. And I’ll kill someone before it happens again.

He doesn’t belong in this world. He’s going to do better things with his life.

“What do you need me to do? Call Murphy and tell him he’s gonna have to sleep in his own bed tonight?” Bash and his buddies are a little too codependent, but they’re good guys.

Bash wheezes out a laugh. “Fuck off. We’re roommates, and he sleeps in his own bed with his girlfriend every night.” I catch him looking out the window instead of at me. “Be serious for a minute.” His voice is scratchy. Exhausted. “I want you to check on Amelia. I’m worried about her.”

“Snow White? She looked like she could handle herself, man.” Not that I wouldn’t mind handling her, if I’m being honest.

“Why are you calling her that?”

“Did the crazy chick hit you in the head too? She looks like that cartoon movie Mom used to love. Black hair. Milky white skin. Red lips. Great rack.”

“Did Mom drop you on your head? Snow White didn’t have curves. She had a bunch of dwarves. And animals that cleaned her house.” We pull into the parking garage beneath my building, and he slumps in his seat.

Snow White had a tiny little waist and a great rack in the movie and in real life, but I don’t argue with my brother. “You need help getting out of the Hummer?”

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