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I chewed on my lip, unable to help myself. I wanted to say the words so badly it hurt. I wanted to get through this and to move on with my life, because if I didn’t I was afraid he’d scar me, break me, and leave me a mess in his wake.
“I don’t know you,” I said.
“Yeah,” he said. “That’s what I thought.”
He came closer. I didn’t step back as he reached out and touched my face. I clenched my jaw and went to push him away, putting my hands on his chest. But he caught my wrist, held it there, and I felt his heart racing, felt his muscles bulge.
He leaned down, holding my wrist, other hand on the small of my back, and he kissed me.
I leaned into that kiss. I tasted his lips, turned my head, let his tongue slide against mine. I felt his body crush against me, his hard muscles, all his weight, all the power behind him. I knew he could take me, wrestle me to the ground and dominate me, but there was still something strangely tender about the way he kissed.
But then the anger flared up again, that old anger I couldn’t quite keep at bay. This bastard, this monster, he thought he could just come up to me, give me some stupid fancy duck, get me to drink a glass of wine, and then kiss me.
Like he owned me. Like I owed him something.
I struggled away and staggered back. I stepped into the weed patch, felt the plants brush against my legs, and pressed myself against the fence. I stared at him, breathing hard, and he looked right back, a smile on his lips. But he didn’t come closer.
“Tell me you didn’t like that,” he said.
“Go to hell.”
“You dirty little girl.” His smile got bigger. “You’ve been thinking about that since we met, haven’t you? You waltz around here, pretending like you’re all high and mighty, but the moment I touch you, you’re losing your mind.”
“Fuck you,” I said and shoved past him. My heart was racing so hard I thought I might pass out. Sweat dripped down under my arms, and for a second I was afraid he’d grab me and hold me again.
But instead, he let me go. He stood and watched as I made it to the back door, breathing like I’d just run a marathon.
“Keep pretending,” he said. “But we’re not that much different, you and me. I just chose to live my truth.”
“Yeah?” I said. “And your truth is what? Killing people?”
“Doing what I have to do for my family,” he said.
“They’re not your family,” I said. “They’re just… mobsters.”
“They’re all I have.” He smiled a little bit, and for a moment, just a brief moment, I could see all the pain in his eyes, the pain he must’ve carried around inside of him all the time, that pushed him to become what he was.
But I wouldn’t forgive him. I didn’t care how good he kissed, how strong his arms were. I didn’t care if he cooked, or laughed, or smiled, or pushed me against that fence and fucked my brains out.
He was a monster, plain and simple, and I wasn’t going to be his savior.
I turned, pushed the door open, and ran inside before he could stop me.11LucaI woke up early the next morning and stood over the sink in the kitchen eating cold Peking duck for breakfast and drinking steaming hot coffee. I stared down at the metal sink, at the marks and scratches from years of use, before stretching my back with a groan.
I could still taste her on my lips. No matter how much I ate or drank, she was still there, lingering right on my tongue. I couldn’t seem to shake her, not the angry look she gave me, the rage somehow making her more beautiful, not the way she let out a little moan as soon as my tongue touched hers, not the way she let me press my body against her soft, gorgeous breasts. I couldn’t take any more, I knew she would’ve let me, knew she wanted it as much as I did, but something held me back.
It was the conversation we’d just had.
It hadn’t gone to plan.
Not even close.
Maybe she was right. My past was rough, much rougher than she knew. I didn’t tell her about the abuse, about the older kids beating the shit out of me regularly, about learning to defend myself, learning to take care of myself because nobody else would. I didn’t tell her that finding the Leone family was like finding a home.
But I knew she would’ve rolled her eyes at that.
She wasn’t wrong about some of it. I made my choices. I chose to kill, chose to steal and fight and sell drugs. I chose to become the monster that I am today, all because I wanted to fit in with the only family that ever seemed to give a tiny shit about me.
