Page 74 of Of Grief And Gratitude

It didn’t take long to find enough clothes for the trip. I didn’t think we’d be gone longer than a couple of weeks. My father’s attention span was short when it came to his displeasure, which bode well. There was always something new to piss him off and divert his focus. I hoped.

Patting the pockets of my worn black jeans, I checked for my wallet and keys, reached for my phone, and slipped it into my front pocket. I grabbed my packed bag and passed by my filming room, adding the video camera so I’d remember to give Riona the memory card of our first night together. Part of me longed to ask her if I could make a copy and keep it, but if things went the direction I hoped, one day, she might agree.

Sweat beaded on my temples as I stared at the bar, wishing I could take a drink to help me through the next few hours. I settled for boxing up as much alcohol as I could until there was a knock at my door. Go figure; my brothers finally learned to wait before waltzing in.

No, that would have been too much of a milestone for them. A moment later, Dante opened my door and waved Riona through, following behind with her duffel bag. I stared, taken with how adorable she looked in clothes that weren’t dressy. I could see myself pulling her to me by the hem of that loose black t-shirt.

“Ready to head out?” Dante asked, setting the bag down by the door. How did she even pick that thing up? It was nearly as big as she was.

I nodded, tearing my eyes away from Riona and looking at my brother. “Yeah. Just about.”

“How are you?” Riona asked in the way that all people tiptoed around talking to grieving people. Still, my chest tightened with that familiar pang of sorrow I didn’t want to feel. I wasn’t ready to face my new reality.

“Fine,” I mumbled, catching her raised brows before turning to caffeinate before the drive. “Coffee?”

“Sure.” Riona shrugged and leaned against the counter, watching me closely while trying to appear casual. The next couple of weeks would get awkward if she didn’t knock that shit off.

“See something you like, mia fiamma?” I purred suggestively, lifting my coffee mug to my lips and sipping while staring her down. She blushed predictably, and Dante scoffed, drawing my attention. “Are you planning to wait and make sure we leave town?”

“Yes,” he answered, crossing his arms over his chest. Fucker.

I handed Riona the second cup of coffee and opened the refrigerator, waving for her to select a flavored creamer. She took the vanilla and poured it liberally into the black coffee before returning it so I could close the door. I focused on all the minute details, every gulp of coffee, the soap suds as I washed and dried our mugs, and each dish I unloaded from the dishwasher.

Riona and Dante made small talk as I finished wiping down the counters and throwing anything that would go bad into the trash. I should have left it for a week and then sent my big brother to clear it out. Hindsight.

“Now I’m ready,” I admitted reluctantly, tying the trash bag and handing it to Dante. “You don’t mind taking that, do you?”

He scowled and grumbled something, making me flash him a grin as I donned my coat and shoes, then gathered my things.

“I can get that,” Riona protested as I bent to pick up her bag. Her hands were fisted adorably on those sexy hips; her lips pursed with indignation.

“I’m sure you can,” I tossed over my shoulder as I took it anyway, my arms too full to open the door.

She stepped forward, held the door for Dante and me, and then made sure it closed. “Are you sure I can’t carry anything?”

“Hit the button on the elevator, will you?” I nodded toward the wall, and she rushed forward, tapping the circular button. The doors opened, and we piled inside, Dante and Riona on one half and me and the bags taking up the rest of the space.

We made it to my car in silence, Dante leaning down to speak quietly to Riona while I tossed our bags into the trunk and carefully arranged the box of alcohol so I wouldn’t have any disasters during the drive to the cabin. Satisfied with how it all looked, I slammed the trunk with more force than necessary and lifted my head to find two sets of eyes staring at me, concerned.

“I’m fine,” I snapped.

Dante lifted his hands. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You don’t have to when you look at me like that.” I ran a hand through my hair and sighed, unwilling to leave things on bad terms with my family. “Look, I don’t need you constantly watching over me. Things are shit right now. Eventually, maybe they won’t be so shitty. Just let me work through it in my own time.”

He nodded, thrusting his hands into the pockets of his suit pants when I thought he might reach out and hug me. Our father had done a good job making Dante fear showing affection. Couldn’t have the future Don appear soft, even to his own brothers. It wasn’t until Mamma left us that I realized how much I appreciated her willingness to flaunt my father’s rules and hug and kiss us every time she saw us. It might not be socially acceptable for men to long for that kind of physical closeness with others, but I didn’t give a fuck when I felt cold and alone.

I contemplated pulling Riona into my arms and holding her until she begged for breath, but that would only worry Dante. I’d find ways to stay close to her when we arrived at our destination.

“I’ll be in touch,” my brother said, stepping away from the car so Riona could slide into the front passenger seat. He shut the door behind her and faced me. “Call if you need anything. And work on shit, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

I lifted my chin in acknowledgment and climbed into my seat, settling in for the ride south. Riona bounced her leg nervously as I pulled out of the underground parking and into the sunny spring day outside.

Soon enough, the city faded away, giving way to rural plains and rolling hills. I relaxed, letting my hand wander across the center console to brush against Riona’s fingers, where they tapped against her thigh.

"You can talk to me, you know." I tapped her hand, drawing her attention from the lackluster scenery out her window.

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