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“I’ve witnessed them,” she replied softly. “And that was bad enough.”
Fuck, how did I forget?Impulsively, I reached out and squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry, beautiful. You should’ve never seen that.”
She shook her head slightly. “No worries. I suppose, you’re right. I am jaded. Seeing the father you’ve admired your entire life kill a man in cold blood can do that. And I don’t even have cause to complain. My father and brother treat me well, and I’ve seen many fathers over the years. Not all of them can leave what they do during the day at the door. My father’s ability to compartmentalize is impressive, but I operate under the assumption that it’s the exception, not the rule. How can a man not let violence bleed into other aspects of his life?”
Her observation hit a little too close to home. My father did let it bleed in. He confined his abuse to me, but with me, it was no holds barred. Hell, he used methods on me that he’d used on men he’d tortured.
Impulsive. Contrarian. Reckless.The words came out in a staccato rhythm between the thwacks of his belt against my back, the buckle catching the flesh of my ribs and tearing into it. I absorbed each of his insults into my fucking soul and swore to never release them. I would become all that he accused me of and more. Not only would I not try to change. I would make sure never to change. What he hated most, I would preserve and nurture.
“We’re supposed to be able to separate them. To protect you from the ugliness.”
“I understand where that impulse comes from, but every single member of a clan is implicated. Having the veil ripped off did me good. It made me stronger,” she replied. “I don’t live in a protected little bubble like so many other mafie girls. It also changed my life for the better. I was able to go to a prestigious school. My loneliness forced me to focus on academics. I would’ve become a pampered, spoiled mafie princess if I had stayed in Queens.”
She paused, her forehead creasing in concentration. “My father tried to shield me, but sometimes, bad things happen. Especially in our world. At least it was an accident. He hadn’t failed me on purpose, like some men. Some take their entitlement too far or exploit their power to do whatever they want, regardless of who they hurt. Like your father did by cheating on your mother.”
“Not only cheated on her. He maintained an entirely separate family for decades,” I clarified.
She pulled back; her eyes flared wide. “Oh, that is bad.”
She really hadn’t heard the whole sordid story of how my father kept a separate household with an American woman. Apparently, he’d had photos of us children scattered around the house when Sebastian and Emma were growing up. How fucking twisted was that?
“If only it stopped there, I would’ve considered myself lucky,” I huffed out. “He was a bastard, through and through.”
I snapped my mouth shut before I gave away any more.
Shit, I’d gone too far.
I made a disgusted sound from the back of my throat. Should I go on? Should I reveal what he was really like? I’d never spoken about it with anyone but Tatum, and only because he’d found me, bound and gagged in a closet, in a dog crate no less, when he and Alex were playing a game of hide-and-seek. That was when he began inviting me over for sleepovers at his house and we created our own independent friendship, despite our two-year age difference. Even knowing that he pitied me, he was one of the few people I allowed in. It was a sign of how lonely and desperate I was at that time.
My father ingrained in me a culture of silence, to protect my siblings. I didn’t have to protect Cat, but I’d just finished spouting off that it was our duty to protect our women from the brutality of our world. On the other hand, she herself said that she was strong. I had seen glimpses of that steel in her spine. It was part of what attracted me to her.
Always so perceptive, Cat’s head snapped toward me.
Eyes narrowed, she demanded, “What is it?”
Her eyes glided over the tension in my facial muscles down to my clenched jaw. “Tell me, Luca. Tell me. I know you want to protect me from the ugliness, but I don’t break easily.” Her voice dropped. “I can handle whatever your secret is. I want to know, and I promise that you can trust me.”
Fuck, that little speech hobbled me. How could I deny her?
The quiet hum in the tight confines of the car resembled a confessional of sorts. We were in a small, hushed space, with little noise outside the occasional honk penetrating our bubble. Although we didn’t know each other well, we had shared intense private moments, creating a shared sense of security and intimacy. Perhaps it was the way she’d been so brave and honest with me earlier. Either way, I had the urge to speak of what he’d done to me. To speak my truth.
“You’ll find Nicu and Alex have a very different view of my father than I do,” I began. She pivoted her body toward me in anticipation, her full attention on me.
Clutching the steering wheel tightly, I focused ahead and continued, “Rebellion wasn’t tolerated with my father, but as my mother told it, I’d been a rebel right out of the womb. I always chafed against rules and regulations. My disobedience provoked him, and he allowed himself a free hand. Over time, I embraced the label and went out of my way to antagonize him.”
“Allowed a free hand? What does that mean exactly?” Cat asked me, concern lining her sweet face.
I gave a little shrug. “Means that when he was pissed off about something, he came home and beat the hell out of me.”
She remained silent.
“I provoked him with my behavior—”
“Don’t,” she cut me off abruptly, eyes flashing in anger.
I shook my head. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t say it’s your fault or lay the blame on yourself in any way. You were a child. His son. He was an adult. His job was to take care of you, not hurt you or take advantage of you because you were smaller and weaker than he was. You do know that, right?”
