Page 87 of Loyalty

Antianxiety meds.

It was a lot.

Some were obviously discarded meds, maybe ones he no longer used for whatever reason, considering the dates on the bottles and amount of pills still inside.

There were lots of rumors about the infamous Johnathan Marcello. Many of them passed Siena by because she only heard things from afar when made men gathered, and she happened to be around.

Some of them called John crazy. Some said he was just a little wild.

His arrest years ago that took him to prison had also led to lots of speculation about just what had gone down between John and his cousin in a restaurant. Apparently, some people that had been there said it was like John had fallen into a mental break or something.

No one knew for sure.

Siena had heard those rumors.

All of them.

She didn’t entertain whispered gossip and stories. Not when it came from the mouths of men who would only say something behind someone’s back, and never to their face.

And that was enough for her.

Siena instantly slammed the cupboard doors, and stepped down from the chair. She did it without thinking, and never having touched one of the bottles.

A huge part of her felt like she had just betrayed Johnathan in some way, even though she couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was. She hadn’t been snooping, and in fact, didn’t even leave the kitchen the entire time he had been gone except to use the bathroom once.

And yet, she still felt wrong.

Like she had done something wrong to him.

The purr of a Mercedes pulling in the driveway outside made her forget about it.

At least now for …

• • •

“Ease up on the pedal a bit,” Siena joked, “I’m not even late or anything.”

John’s white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel loosened ever so slightly. His gaze slipped to the clock on the dashboard, and the car slowed down subtly. “Yeah, sorry.”

Something in the lilt of his tone caught her attention. Siena looked at him, but John’s focus was only on the road ahead of him.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

John nodded. “Sure.”

“Really?”

The bobbing of his throat as he swallowed hard did not escape her notice. Neither did the way his fingers tightened around the wheel again like he needed something to keep hanging onto. All of it felt wrong to her.

She just didn’t know why.

“Did something happen?” Siena asked.

John chuckled. “Oh, something is always happening, dolcezza. Don’t worry about it.”

“You can tell me anything, if you want—”

“It’s fine,” he interjected quietly.