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“What?” I asked after I couldn’t fuckin’ take it anymore.
“What, yourself? Don’t play games with me, Michael.”
“What games?” I bit out, going hard at a nonexistent stain on her perfectly clean bowl. “It’s the truth, plain and simple.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Well, you should.”
“And why exactly is that?”
“Because I’m no fuckin’ good!” I exploded as I tossed the bowl onto the dish rack with a clatter and threw the scrubber into the water. More of it splashed on my shirt. I barely noticed. “The sooner you get that through your pretty little head, the better. I do bad things, Lea. I steal cars. I sleep around. I fuck up. That’s all there is to it. All there is to me.”
Lea was quiet for another long minute. Eventually, I went back to cleaning, but there wasn’t much more to do. Two glasses. Two bowls. A few forks. That was all. The sum total of this borrowed kitchenette. This borrowed life.
My hand was practically shaking when I finally turned off the water. Then Lea finally spoke.
“You’re a liar,” she said in a husky voice that barely quavered so slightly that no one else would have noticed.
But I did. I had a feeling I would always notice things like that about Lea Zola.
“What have I been telling you?” I asked. “You don’t know me for shit, baby girl.”
“I know you enough,” she shot back, even as she pushed herself off the counter.
She had that look about her. The look of a woman who was on her way out, even before she made the move.
Something in my chest tightened as I watched her march around the kitchenette, gathering a few things she’d brought from her house, packing them into the shopping bag, then finally slinging on her coat before she headed for the door.
It was only after she twisted the knob that she stopped to face me again.
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe I don’t really know you, Michael Scarrone,” she said quietly. “But God does. And he hates a liar too.”
“Yeah, well, God left me out of his plans years ago,” I said bitterly. “That’s how I ended up here. In case you forgot.”
She shook her head stubbornly, causing her hoop earrings to sway from side to side. “I don’t think so. I think you’re here because of those plans. And one way or another, we’re going to figure them out.” She opened the door, then paused once more. “The party’s in Port Morris, near Mill Brook Houses. In case you want to start fresh there, too.”
“Fuck the party,” I bit out. “And fuck this dinner, too. It was good, but I don’t need any more of your handouts, contessa. I can take care of myself.”
Even as I spoke, I knew I was confirming everything she’d thought of me. That I was a wolf, so desperate not to be trapped again that I’d bite everyone, even chew off my own foot, to avoid it.
Lea, however, didn’t bite back. Not this time.
“At least you have some fight in you,” she said as she stepped out of the room. “Good thing, too. My nonno wouldn’t hire a pussy.” She sniffed. “Next time I’ll bring a salad. I already know you don’t eat enough vegetables.”
And before I could answer, she left.
But not before two words rang in my ear a few seconds too late.
Mill Brook.
One of the most notorious housing projects in the Bronx. Home to gangbangers, dealers, vagrants, and who knew how many junkies with eyes for pretty young women.
Lea Zola, the innocent girl who had apparently decided to save my godforsaken soul, was entering a den of sin.
A party I absolutely did not want to attend.
And yet, deep down, I already knew I was going. When it came to her, I was starting to think I didn’t really ever have a choice. Maybe I didn’t want one either.
