Page 19 of Sweet Lies

Justhow I need it to be.

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ANDRE

I watch her, and I know I shouldn’t. There are a million reasons I need to look away. Most of them involve me living to see another sunrise. Elijah and I are friends, but if he ever suspected I had feelings for his sister, he would have my head, and no one would be the wiser. Still, like a siren, she calls to me, and even knowing it will likely end with me in a watery grave, I give in to temptation.

Her black dress makes her appear paler than normal. The dress hugs her hourglass figure, and her chestnut hair falls in tight curls. Even in mourning, she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. Her class and grace put all others to shame. Since we were children, she’s had this ability to know what others in the room are feeling. She’s been able to make me feel human on my worst days, and there have been plenty of them. Watching her in this moment of grief has me reliving my own.

“Don’t cry. You’re ten and know better.” My father’s words ring in my ears loudly on repeat. I feel the wetness fighting to break free, but I hold the tears back. I will not cry; I refuse. The desire to see my mom is overwhelming. I can still smell her floral perfume, as if she were standing in front of me instead of lying inside the wooden casket.

People had been coming up to me since her death, not knowing what to say. Even the most confident among us were at a loss for words. My father had said little since she’d died, outside of telling me not to cry. I think every time he said it to me, he was really telling himself.

She’d been sick for the last year, so we were expecting it; nevertheless, when the time came, I was shocked. I was used to death—the quickness of it, the kind that comes with a gunshot—but the lingering pain of cancer is a different grief. Each day was a question of whether it would be her last, but I would give anything to have her here and wonder that again.

Looking ahead, few would meet my eyes. Another new thing that wouldn’t happen again for some years.

It seems to take forever for the priest to finish his last words. I can’t take the sad glances much longer before breaking down.

My father’s hand rests on my shoulder in comfort as Father Mike finishes speaking, but it disappears as quickly as I felt it settle there. I don’t glance up, afraid to see his tears, sensing we’re both losing the fight with our emotions.

“It’s time to go. We’re expected at the house.” His voice catches.

I don’t answer; instead, I stare at the closing ground, wishing I could jump in to be with her.

“You want to stay.” He says it as a statement and not a question. “I’ll send the car in a few.” He walks away.

I nod, knowing if I speak, the tears will be released, and I’ll have no control.

Everyone slowly leaves, following his lead.

At first, I didn’t noticed that she’d stayed. I’d assumed she would go with her family to our house. But she lingers by my side, stepping closer till her smaller hand slips into my own, anchoring me.

Her warmth seems to silence all the dark thoughts that have been circling all day.

Rebecca says nothing, knowing that words will do no good. Most try to find something comforting to say, but I call it bullshit. They’re just happy it wasn’t their family. Instead, Rebecca does what she always seems to do for everyone. She simply stays, giving the other person what they need.

With her hand clasped in mine, the tears fall.

That’s one of the first moments I realize I need Rebecca Rossi in my life. She’s my anchor. I also know I can’t blacken her. I know I need to look after her. She doesn’t belong in our world of blackness and death. Keeping her far away from it would be a hard task, but one I would do my best to achieve.

Her hand squeezing mine alerts me that something is up. I see her nod ahead. Following her gaze, I see the car pulling up. It’s time to go.

I’m still holding her hand as we start toward the car. Only when we’re a foot away do I drop it and instantly miss the feeling. Her eyes stare into mine as she holds her hand back out.

Stepping away, I open the door and slide onto the cold, leather seat. She slides in next to me a few seconds later.

Her hand rests on the middle seat, daring me to take it. Instead, I stare at the driver’s seat in front of me, counting the seconds till she was away from me and dreading that moment at the same time.

Thunder crashing in the sky jolts me back. My eyes find Rebecca and I feel sorrow at her loss. Tears flow down her face, her dark brown eyes hidden by her huge sunglasses. They’re not needed in the rain, but tears show weakness. And the last thing Elijah Rossi would allow today is weakness, even if it were tears for his father. Adrian Regio had started this war, and Elijah was readying the men for the following weeks. He’ll be an influential leader if he gets the chance, but I suspect Adrian won’t give him one. We’re all living on borrowed time.

Claire and Elijah appear unfazed by the day’s events. Only those close to them would notice the shadows in their eyes and the unease in their stance. Rebecca was as different from her siblings as it was possible to be. The light to their dark. That’s why her father, and now Elijah, would never allow me—or any of his other men—near her. They would tarnish her, and a treasure like Rebecca deserved more than what any of us could offer. Despite that, I can’t help but watch her, wishing for something that will never be mine.

Elijah has directed me to take care of Logan, Adrian Regio’s oldest son, tonight. An eye for an eye. More like setting off a bomb and starting a war that will change how everything is run. He’s correct to want Logan taken care of—with him out of the way, it leaves Sebastian to take the reins when we kill his father, and Sebastian doesn’t have the sense to run the organization. He’s lost in the bottle too much to know where to begin. And once the Regio family is gone, it will leave just four families to rule, opening new opportunities. Most of the other bosses hate Adrian—not that they would admit it. Some out of fear and others just from smarts, because Adrian was a bastard of the highest order—a snake that would take them all down.

Lost in thought and the possible outcomes of our plan, I fail to notice the service is over. I force myself to look away from Rebecca as she’s led to the car.

My phone vibrates in my pocket and I move toward my car as I answer it, traveling in the opposite direction of the others.

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