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“That’s the least you deserve, Maxi Pad.”
Something snaps in me.
As if I’m watching someone else, my body takes a couple of steps toward my nephew, and I slam my fist into his chin. He flies back and lands half on a chair, half on the floor. But he can’t stay down long. Of freaking course he can’t. The second he tries to get up, I sit on him and punch his face again. And one more time for good measure. Blood splashes from his nose or mouth, I don’t know.
I’m about to hit him again when something clenches my arms and chest in a vise. While I’m dragged away, the buzzing in my ears starts clearing, and I hear screaming. Men’s voices. They’re shouting words.
“—wrong with you?”
“Grab him!”
When he’s free of me, Leo tries to take a swipe at me. Suddenly, a boot appears on his chest, pushing him down. I look up at the jean-clad leg, then higher still until I find it belongs to Tinker Bell.
What is she doing here?
“Don’t you even dare,” she threatens my nephew.
“Hey.” A girl’s voice grunts in my ear. “Chill, big man. You already won the fight.”
“What is happening?” The question cuts through the fog in my brain. It’s my mother, who now stands somewhere behind me. “Massimo Cassiano! What have you done?”
Of course everyone thinks I did this. Leo’s feral grin tells me I walked right into his damn trap.
“Explain yourself!”
I shrink.
Oh, great. That’s my dad. He’s going to murder me now. That tone of voice is the same one that preceded lashes with his belt when I was a kid.
“Maybe the one who should explain himself is your grandson, sir,” Tinker Bell shocks me by saying. Her eyes meet mine for a second before she directs them behind me again. “Since Max walked in, all your grandson has done is antagonize your son.”
The emphasis on the word grandson isn’t lost on me. So she figured that one out, huh?
But it’s like she’s speaking to a wall. Dad shouts. “I don’t care how this started! How dare you make a scene in the restaurant, Massimo?”
Yeah. How dare I, huh?
I pat the hands of one the three Strikes holding me back. At this point, I probably look more tired than willing to commit murder, because they let me go.
Slowly, I get up and turn to face my parents. And two of my siblings, the rest of the kitchen staff, and a whole restaurant packed mostly with strangers. Mom gasps when she sees my face. On cue, my lip starts throbbing. I figure it’s split. I wipe at it. The stab of pain confirms it, even before I see the crimson stain on my thumb.
I snort. My shoulders keep shaking in a silent chuckle. “Happy damn birthday to me, huh?”
This one will go down in history as one of the worst.
Before anyone reacts, I step over and around my nephew and keep going, one foot in front of the other until they take me out of the restaurant.
Only when I’m a block away am I able to take in a full breath. I rub my head, messing up my hair even though I styled it to perfection just an hour ago. I wanted to look good for the date that was never destined to happen.
And what’s the point? Luz would’ve eventually seen that I’m a loser in my own family. It’d have weirded her out like it did to my ex.
“Cassiano! Max, wait!”
“Go back to your friends, Tinker Bell.” My voice comes out like gravel. But I don’t stop walking.
“No, they don’t need me right now.”
“Neither do I.”
