Page 46 of Ruthless Consequences

“When you opened the door. You didn’t even ask who it was. This is New York. Not fucking Mayberry.”

I shut the door in his face. A second later, he knocks again.

“Who is it?” I say.

“Open the door, Lucila,” he says.

I do, and I don’t think he finds what I did funny. His face is still hard.

“Okay,” I say. “Next time I’ll ask.”

“You should know better.”

I shrug. “You feel like the most dangerous thing in my world. And since youlikeme, I figure…I’ll be okay.”

I can tell he’s still pissed, but after a second, his face relaxes when our eyes hold. He grumbles something aboutlikeand then steps inside. He closes and locks the door, then heads toward the kitchen. Hoffa sniffs around his boots when he gets to the counter. Then, like a frigging dog, she jumps on his legs, setting her paws against them.

She senses no danger whatsoever. If anything, the kitten takes to him instantly. She seems to like Lilo better than she likes me. AndIfeed and take care of her. She’s purring like a fiend after a hit when Lilo scratches her head.

Meanwhile, I’m trying to figure out if there’s something I can do about the way I look. I’m in an old white T-shirt of Sonny’s and a raggedy old pair of sweatpants that Ava says makes me look like I crapped my pants because of the baggage in the back. My hair is up in a ponytail, and my feet are bare. My hands smell like bleach and lemon cleaner. There’s nothing I can do, though. He caught me off guard.

He’s already looking at me like I might disappear on him. He does that sometimes.

“Why do you look at me like that?” I say, my eyes softening against his.

“I never want to lose you, Lucila,” he says. “And I might fuck up someday.”

“Would you mean to?” I’m not sure why I ask, because depending on what he does—would it make a difference?

Some things are avoidable. An affair, for instance. No matter how many times a person says it wasn’t on purpose, that seems like a choice that’s plain and simple. That hurt can be avoided by saying no and ending it before the damage is done. But something else, like a choice between light and dark—I’m okay with him being in the shadows, for some reason. But I also don’t know what that truly means, other than what happened with the lunch lady and the guy at Coney Island.

He’s wild in ways that many people aren’t, but it only makes me feel safe.

He makes me feel safe, and that,that, is a dangerous thing. He already has my heart. A heart that’s just starting to heal after bitterness has worn it thin. Just like a body that’s been buried for too long.

“I would never mean to hurt you,” he says. “But it’s what I do. Eventually.”

His words make me think of him and Michele. The look of disappointment on his dad’s face when he looks at his son sometimes, and the immediate look of acceptance on his son’s when it happens. I think that’s where his comment stems from. It’s not about me, but about that. Maybe he tried to be everything Michele expected but always fell short. Because I can see the uncertainty in his eyes after he says it. Like he’ll see the same rejection in my eyes. He’ll come up short. Then I’ll lock him out.

Hoffa hisses at me as I move her out of my way, wrapping my arms around Lilo’s middle. Holding him is like holding a rock. He’s hard all over. But his warmth makes me pull even closer. He’s so tall I have to look up at him.

“I missed you,” I whisper. I want him to see and feel anything but rejection from me. I want him to feel what I do when he makes me feel like he does. Like no one could ever compare. Like I’m it for him. It’s us and forever.

“That’s why I’m here,” he says. “Fuck the rest of the world. This is where I belong.”

I’m not thinking highly of myself when I think this. But I do believe I’m the only “lighter” person who truly accepts Lilo for who he is. Other than me, he’s more comfortable around guys like Ghetti.

An image of a ferret out to steal gold always comes to mind when I think of Ghetti. He’s average height but thin, which is why they call him Ghetti, short for spaghetti, but he has dark eyes and dark ways. And a ferret’s disposition. I think it would have been a better nickname for him.

But I love that Lilo comes to me. I love being that person in his life. It makes me feel important. Special. He’s that person for me.

“It is,” I say. “As much as I’m yours, you’re mine.” Heat stings my cheeks. I’m not used to expressing things like that. Tearing open my heart and letting my feelings out.

The look he gives me in return makes it all worth it. He gazes at me with something I don’t see when he’s out on the streets. Absorption. Like he needs to feel me beneath his skin. He needs me to consume him so he can feel something different.

“My shadow man,” I whisper.

The moments that pass between us are charged. Heated. It’s like when our eyes connect, when we’re this close, one of us is the wire and the other is the outlet. We’re plugged in, and something electrical passes between us. But something better. Something that’s a mixture of euphoria and reality.

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