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He hands the keys over to one of the men and climbs off.
“Be careful, stairs can be slippery,” he says, holding out his hand.
I look at it. The palm is up, offered to me.
I meet his gaze and, after a moment, I put my hand in his, and he helps me out, and I know the instant we’re inside that they only allowed us in because they know Gregory because we’re the only two dressed like we are.
The casino is larger inside than it appears on the outside and this isn’t like anything I’ve seen before.
Soft music plays in the background and waiters walk around dressed like the two outside carrying trays of drinks to the elegantly dressed men and women at the tables.
I see Joseph Gallo at the same time Gregory does. He’s at a poker table where a group has gathered to watch the game. He gives Gregory a nod of greeting, meets my gaze for an instant then steps aside to let us see Sebastian.
Sebastian’s wearing a tuxedo. It’s stretched so tight over the thick muscles of his arms that I wonder how it contains him, how the stitches don’t rip right apart.
He’s engrossed in the game and in his hand is a tumbler of whiskey. From here I can see the half-empty bottle beside him as he signals for the dealer to give him another card.
Gallo heads toward us, whispers in Gregory’s ear.
Gregory asks a question in Italian, and after Gallo answers, he hands him a key card. Gregory takes my arm and we walk to Sebastian.
I don’t play poker but from the burst of angry talk that erupts from Sebastian when another player lays down his cards, I know he just lost.
Gregory puts a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder.
“Brother,” he says.
Sebastian turns around but before he sees Gregory, his eyes land on me.
He’s surprised, then pleased, then, when his gaze falls to where Gregory is holding onto me, angry.
“Helena.” His voice is husky, and he half stands but has to grab the edge of the table to steady himself.
Gregory puts pressure on his shoulder and Sebastian winces, sucks in a breath.
I remember the bandage I saw on his arm when I first woke. I never asked him about it.
“My brother’s done here,” Gregory tells the dealer.
“I’m not done,” Sebastian says to the dealer, but his eyes are locked on me.
Gregory ignores him, releases me to collect the chips still on the table.
“Let’s go,” Gregory says.
“I said I’m not done,” Sebastian says, this time, turning to face Gregory as he rises to his full height.
Unsteady as he is, he’s something to see. The two of them together, nose to nose, are something to see.
I take a step back and Gregory must have the instincts of a cheetah because he reaches out to grab hold of me again.
Sebastian’s instincts are dulled by the alcohol, but he follows the movement with his eyes, then drags them back to meet Gregory’s and for a moment, I’m sure there will be a fight. A battle between these two Goliaths.
Gregory must know this though, because he pulls me forward.
“Take her,” he says.
Sebastian almost grunts, and when the pressure of Gregory’s hand is removed from my left arm, Sebastian’s replaces it on my right. His eyes, though, never leave his brother’s.
Gregory takes the key out of his pocket and looks at both sides.
“Which floor?” he asks, walking ahead of us to the elevator and pushing the button to call it before the attendant has a chance to.
“Why don’t we take him back to the island?” I ask as the elevator doors open and I see our reflection in the mirror mounted on the back wall, me, small and out of place between them, these tall and broad and beautiful men with their chiseled jaws and dark hair and darker eyes.
The aggression coming off them is so palpable, it almost crackles.
“Because I don’t want to fish my drunk brother out of the canal, do I, brother?” he asks, leaning into Sebastian’s face.
“Fuck you, Greg,” Sebastian says.
Gregory shakes his head and turns to the man smiling awkwardly inside the elevator. “Get the fuck out,” he says, practically tugging the man out. “We can push our own fucking button,” he mutters this part under his breath. “Floor?” he asks Sebastian.
“Four.” Sebastian turns to look at me when we get in, then turns back to his brother. “What are you doing here?” he asks. “Why is she here?”
“You didn’t want me to leave her alone on the island, remember?”
“I don’t need a babysitter—” I start.
“Why are you here?” Sebastian asks Gregory again.
“Because Gallo mentioned things had gotten out of hand.”
“Gallo can go fuck himself.”
“What did he do?” I ask Gregory.
“I’m right here,” Sebastian says, leaning in close. “You ask me. Not him.”
I look up at Sebastian. “You’re hurting my arm.”
