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What the fuck? How the fuck was this real life?
“What happens if she asks for her daughter and doesn’t want to stay?” Darcy asked, and Ethan paused, looking up from his glass. I prepared to duck.
Ethan’s grip on the glass tightened. “Why would you ask me such a stupid question? My daughter is staying where she belongs. That is here. That is all.”
“Ethan, other than the fact that this woman kills people for a living and she is coming here under the belief that someone stole her daughter, we know nothing about her,” I stated, trying to see if maybe I understood wrong or maybe he knew something he wasn’t yet sharing.
“She kills people. We kill people. We already have something common.”
“We sell drugs. That’s different from assassination,” I reminded him, not sure what the hell was going through his mind. It was like he was in his own little world. Which wasn’t out of the character for him, but I’d never seen that look in his eyes before. It was like a storm was brewing.
He laughed, and he finally focused on me; “Why do you sound scared? It’s not like you, brother. Don’t you want to know who wins this showdown? Mafia versus Assassin. It’s like a movie.”
Maybe he was having a mental break? It was just too much for one day and he couldn’t process it?
“Just so you know, in the movies when it starts raining outside and an assassin is on their way to your house, that usually means you’re not making it to the next movie.” Sedric told him.
“And not to play the race card,” Darcy spoke up, and we all knew where he was going. “But I am the only black guy here.”
“I’m Asian,” Sedric reminded him.
“You’re half-Asian.”
“You’re half-Black!” Sedric shot back.
“I’m half-Italian,” Ethan said to them, making them both look at him. They were shocked he jumped in but didn’t miss a beat.
“You’re white,” they both said.
“I know,” Ethan drank some more. “I just thought we were sharing obvious facts with each other.”
“Are you all done?” I asked them, truly feeling as if I’d lost my damn mind. His behavior, even before this, when he’d picked me up at the hospital…it was off. That plus all of this…and our parents. I wondered if I really died and this was just the beginning of hell?
Fuck it! Fine!
Reaching over I took the bottle of brandy and drank straight from it, cringing before speaking again. “Ten million on the mafia.”
Ethan raised his eyebrow at me. “You always did make safe bets.”
“So you have a plan.”
“Welcome her with open arms?” The fact that I didn’t know whether or not he was being honest was the reason I often lost my cool around him. He gave me a headache. This family… “Why can’t one thing be simple with you?”
“Says the man in love with his cousin.” He snickered, but stiffened when he heard Uncle Declan exhale deeply behind us.
Son of bitch did that on purpose.
“I have a question,” Uncle Neal boomed, kicking his feet up on the table and never was I more I grateful to him.
“What?” I asked.
“No, not for you.” He pointed to Darcy. “Isn’t it only in horror movies that the black guy dies first?”
“Uncle Neal!” I snapped. Fuck me for thinking he was going to ask something serious. Ethan just rolled his eyes.
“What? I want to know. If it’s not, then who would be the first to go?”
“It’s a trick question,” Uncle Declan replied, pinching the bridge of his nose and exhaling sharply. “Nine times out ten there is no Asian in the movie, so the black guy dies first. One out of ten times there is an Asian, but he blends with the white people so the black guy still dies first.”
