Page 60 of Of Grief And Gratitude

“Fuck you,” Vito hissed.

“Didn’t know you swung that way,” I fired back, knowing it would piss him off. “I don’t think Daddy Dearest would approve.”

Any hint of an alternative lifestyle could get one of my father’s men killed. I didn’t breathe a word of Luca’s activities when he went out of town because even being my cousin wouldn’t save him from my father’s homophobic wrath. I wasn’t sure those with old-world ideals would ever catch up with how progressive the world was.

“I don’t get paid enough for this shit,” Vito mumbled, transferring his weight from one foot to the other.

His complaining had crossed the line, and I couldn’t let the disrespect fly. I was on Vito in seconds, slamming him against the building and holding him by the throat.

“Are you unhappy with the family, Vito?” My voice was smooth, cajoling. I squeezed hard enough that he couldn’t speak, feeding the anger that had taken the place of my despair. The violence came naturally, and I smiled as Vito struggled. Though he equaled me in height, he was no match for my strength. “You want to file a formal complaint? I’m listening.”

The longer I squeezed, the less he fought. “You disrespected my family. I could kill you where you stand, and nobody would do a damn thing about it, Vito. So, tell me. Is there a problem?”

He shook his head, face turning bright red. I felt his pulse under my fingers, how it struggled to beat through the pressure against the artery.

The quiet click of a door alerted me to Dario’s presence, and his scarred face entered my peripheral vision. “Everything okay, Boss?”

“Everything is fine.” I shoved off Vito, and the man slumped, bracing his hands on his knees as he gasped for air. “I was just giving Vito some running tips. Isn’t that right?”

I gave the man a look that promised death if he contradicted me, and he knew enough to toe the line. “Yeah, Boss. I’ll pick up the running shoes.”

“Good.” I made a show of stretching and checking the time. “Why don’t you boys take the rest of the night off? I’m heading home now, anyway. Don’t forget to rest those feet, Vito. Blisters are a bitch.”

Before Dario could return to the SUV, I turned and ran around the corner, heading back to my place. My steps were lighter, though the weight on my heart refused to lift.

Visions of cars exploding filled my dreams when I slept, and I often woke in a cold sweat after seeing my mother’s lifeless eyes. Alcohol and pot were the only things that eased the nightmares, but even then, my body refused to sleep.

I’d given up the nightly runs, choosing instead to drink until I passed out. Riona stopped by nearly every day, and I’d made an effort to be sober during the hours she sat around my place, cooking meals and cleaning when I didn’t have the energy for the task. She fucking folded my underwear for me.

Sunday came and passed, but I couldn’t bring myself to attend mass with the rest of my family. Without my mother there, it seemed pointless. There was no Sunday dinner. No leftovers Mamma forced us all to take home with the excuse that she’d accidentally made too much. Like we wouldn’t realize she was still trying to take care of us, even though we didn’t live at home.

I shook off the memories and focused on the glass in my hand. Vodka. Or gin. I couldn’t remember which bottle I’d grabbed when Luca insisted on picking me up to take me out. I tossed back the shot.

Fuck.

Tequila.

When did I finish the vodka?

My phone buzzed, and I reached for it, but it evaded my grasp. Damn double vision. I tried to grab the other one, finally wrapping my hand around it and seeing Luca’s name on the screen. I didn’t bother to answer. He’d tell me to get my ass downstairs.

I shoved my wallet and phone into my pocket and swiped my leather jacket from the hook, pulling it on as I headed down the elevator. Luca’s black Bentley sat at the curb, and I climbed into the front passenger seat.

“About damn time you got your ass moving,” he scoffed, slamming the car into drive and peeling out into traffic like he was invincible.

“Fuck off.” I fumbled with the seatbelt, having enough sense to stay alive if my cousin was behind the wheel. “Where are we going?”

Luca drove with his knee and produced a wad of cash from the center console, waving it in the air. “Deception, baby. Boobs fix everything.”

I rolled my eyes at the ease with which he shoved everything serious aside. Tits wouldn’t fix it, but there was no use objecting. If Luca wanted to do something, he’d drag me along until we were too drunk to move.

The wind whipped through my hair when I got out of the car at Deception, rain pelting my face and taking me back to the day Mamma died. I shivered and pulled my jacket tighter around my body, lengthening my steps to reach the shelter of the building faster.

“Come on.” I looked over at my cousin and smirked. “I need a drink.”

“Fuck yeah.” He pumped his fist in the air and ran ahead. “Loser buys!”

Luca made it to the door a few steps ahead of me, flinging it open, so I had to rush through to avoid getting hit by the backswing. Inside, music thumped sensually, the soundtrack of sin. I squinted into the dim lighting, sighing in relief when I didn’t spot Cosimo. He must have been off for the night.

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