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“What were you two talking about downstairs?”
“Nothing,” I say too quickly.
He narrows his eyes. He knows I’m lying.
“I was asking her why you spanked her last night.”
“What?” Sebastian starts, not sounding surprised. “Did you jerk off to the thought of it, brother?” he asks, taking a step toward Gregory.
“No need,” Greg says, standing and taking a step toward his brother so they’re nose to nose. “I’d had my fill.”
“I should throw you out the fucking window.” Sebastian takes hold of Gregory’s shirt.
“I’d like to see you try.” Gregory’s response matches Sebastian’s and the two turn a circle.
“What are you doing?” I ask, trying to step between them. “Having some sort of pissing contest?”
Neither looks at me and I put one hand on each of their fists.
“You need to mark your territory or something?” I continue, trying to yank them off each other.
“We already established territory,” Sebastian says, his eyes on his brother.
“I thought we had too,” Gregory says. “But you keep going back on our agreement.”
“What agreement?” I ask.
Nothing.
“What agreement?” I ask again.
For a minute, I think they’re going to fight, and I think that yes, one of them will throw the other out the window.
But then Gregory says something in Italian and Sebastian exhales.
He gives me a glance because whatever Gregory just said diffused things.
They release each other and I find myself exhaling.
“What agreement?” I ask once more a moment later.
“You, Helena,” Greg answers, eyes on his brother. “You’re the agreement.”13SebastianI look at Helena, then at my brother and in that minute, I hate him. I hate him for what he proposed. Because there is a way out. A way for Helena to be mine. For this to be over without breaking tradition. Without consequences for the next generation of Scafoni sons.
But I’m not entertaining that. No fucking way. Even if she agreed, I wouldn’t allow it.
My dick is hard at the thought, though. That’s the sickest part of this. And my brother knows it.
“What did he say?” She has her hands on the lapels of my jacket.
When I don’t answer but keep my gaze on my brother she turns to him.
“What did you say?” she asks him.
Gregory’s gaze is burning daggers into me.
Does he want it? Does he want that for her?
“We’re leaving,” I say to her, taking her by the arm. She stumbles when I lead the way to the door.
She looks back at Gregory once we’re out in the hallway and it pisses me off.
I stop.
“You want to go back?” I ask, giving her a shake.
“No. Christ. I can’t even look at him without you thinking I want him?”
“I know him, Helena.”
“You’re brothers, Sebastian. That means something because from what I can see, you need each other.”
“You have no fucking idea what you’re saying.”
We make it down the stairs without her toppling and when we’re outside, she stops.
“At least let me take these off.”
She reaches down to remove the sandals. Like glass slippers. Like she’s Cinderella.
When we’re back on the boat, she stops me. “You can’t leave him there.”
“He’ll get back. He always does. Can’t manage to lose the son of a bitch.”
“Sebastian, you don’t mean that.”
“How do you know what I mean?” I snap. The look on her face is stunned and I run a hand through my hair, take a deep breath in. “Fuck.” I shake my head. “Go inside and sit down. Give me some space. I need to cool down.”
Remarkably, she does as she’s told and goes inside. It’s probably the cold as much as anything else, though. She must have dropped her wrap when we were in Gallo’s office.
Before Helena, Gregory and I didn’t fight. We weren’t best friends or anything, but we didn’t fight. Not like this. This Willow Girl thing, it’s driving a wedge between us and it’s like an echo of Lucinda’s words on the night of the reaping.
It’s history repeating itself.
It happens with every generation.
When we finally get back, Helena goes upstairs, and I head out to the patio. After taking off my jacket and bowtie, I stack wood in the fire and light it before sitting down with my whiskey. I look at my brother’s empty chair.
Helena returns a few minutes later wearing jeans and a long-sleeved sweater. She’s barefoot and when she sits, she tucks her knees under herself.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
“You’re right. We’re brothers. And I’m letting this thing come between us.”
“This thing. Me.”
I nod. Drink. Offer her my glass.
She shakes her head.
“I think he’s just lonely, Sebastian. I think he’s alone.”
“You two are chummy.”
“It’s not like that. I thought he was a jerk in the beginning. I mean, he still is, a lot of the time. But when I talk to him, I also think he’s lonely. I don’t know, maybe I’m wrong.”
She’s not wrong. I know that.
The sound of swiftly approaching footsteps alerts us both to his arrival.
