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More like this mouth. But I didn’t say that out loud.
“We’re just… casual, okay? It’s not a big deal.”
“Huge deal,” Mal said, leaning against the counter. “Whose bed did you wake up in this morning?”
I busied myself getting coffee so I didn’t have to look at them. “Mine, but not alone”
“Huge deal,” Cap said. “He slept in your bed? All night long? I think that’s a first.”
“Can’t be a first,” I protested, even though the idea didn’t seem so bad. It’d been my first time too. I’d given him a lot of firsts lately.
“Definitely a first,” Mal said, nodding.
I put some milk into my coffee and sipped it. Strong and hot. “I know you two mean well, but really, it’s not a big deal.”
“Huge.” Capri grinned. “Now go wake his ass up. Food’s almost ready.”
I did as he commanded, if only to escape them for a few minutes. I found Carmine sitting up and rubbing his face. He looked surprised when I stepped into my room.
“Do I smell bacon?” he asked.
“Cap and Mal are here.”
His excitement died slightly. “I knew you didn’t cook.”
“Hey, I can cook. Better than she can, I bet.”
“Prove it sometime.”
“I will, but unfortunately, you’re not worth the effort.”
He laughed at that. “You trying to put me down first thing in the morning? Get over here. Cap and Mal can wait.”
“No way,” I said, not getting any closer, grinning like a moron. “Let’s go eat something before it gets cold.”
He shrugged, got up, pulled on shorts and a t-shirt, and followed me into the main room.
Cap, Mal, and Carmine fell into bringing the food out to the table like they’d done this a thousand times, and for all I knew, they probably had. Carmine and his two friends had such an easy banter and way about them, and I couldn’t help but feel a little bit of jealousy, and a little bit of pride. Mal said this was what they did for friends, which meant they counted me as a part of their little group.
It made me feel special. I had friends for the first time in my life—and I might’ve had something more in Carmine.
“So how’s Nervosa doing?” Cap asked casually as she took a bite of eggs.
“Same as always. Power-hungry asshole.” Carmine drank his coffee. “He kidnapped Jules just to fuck with me.”
“Maybe he wanted to ask my advice because I’m so smart and useful,” I said, nudging him with my elbow.
He shrugged. “Could be. Or maybe he wants to send your father a message. Nervosa plays games within games. All those Oligarch assholes do.”
“But he’s helping us,” Mal said. “That’s good.”
“Could be,” Carmine said. “I haven’t decided yet. You never know what he really wants until it’s too late.”
“What are the Oligarchs, anyway?” I asked, watching the three of them skeptically. I’d heard about the group, but I didn’t have a firm grasp on what they were.
“It’s basically a little cabal of stupidly wealthy assholes that like to play around with the crime families,” Cap said. “They control different territories and make all the organizations within them pay a tax for their protection. It’s all very medieval.”
“But they’re strong,” Carmine said. “Which means it’s good we have him on our side.”
I nodded and took a few bites. Cap was a really good cook, I had to admit it, and I realized I was starving. I wasn’t much of a breakfast person, but for some reason I dug into the food, and a pleasant and satisfied calm spread over me as the three friends bickered and laughed and kept pulling me into the conversation.
By the time we were finished, I felt good. I felt really good. I’d never had a breakfast like this before. Back home I ate alone or with the cook, Rosalita, but never with actual friends. Sometimes Papa’s guards stood around and chatted, and sometimes Oscar made my life hell, but mostly I was alone.
This was good. This was really good. Having a group of friends to talk with, joke with, to share my life with, that seemed like the ultimate goal. I’d been so closed off for so long and finally I felt like I was opening up—and I loved it.
Except a quiet voice in the back of my head kept telling me to stop.
Because they don’t know me. Not really. We’ve barely spent much time together, and none of them knew about my past, about all the things I’d done for Oscar, and before that, during the accident. They didn’t know the sins I’d committed, and all the broken lives I’d left in my wake.
And I hated myself for it.
This group was pure. Oh, they were bonded over blood and death, and they were criminals—but their friendship was real. Cap loved Mal, but she also loved Carmine, and he loved them, and Mal loved them, and for nothing more than because they enjoyed being around each other. I was a fourth wheel, an interloper, an outsider getting a chance to pretend like I was a part of something.
