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“When can we give the gifts?” That comes from one of two guys seated together.
They’re big, like the rest of them. Apparently, there’s a physical requirement to join the whole not-mafia mafia gang here. These guys look so similar that they could be twins. The more I study them—openly and without looking away—the more I think they might be. They both have long, deep brown hair, broad shoulders, and handsome enough faces, and they apparently prefer things more casual since they’re both wearing black T-shirts and probably jeans.
“Introductions first,” Scarlet reprimands gently. “But first, pass the food around. It would be a shame for it to get cold.”
I didn’t think I could possibly eat a thing, but I’m surprised that when the food starts coming my way and I dutifully add fluffy scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, fresh fruit, a pancake, whipped cream, strawberry sauce, and homemade-looking salsa to my plate, my stomach rumbles. The orange juice I reach for and gulp down tastes freshly squeezed and is pulpy—the way no one else seems to like but me.
When everyone has mounds of food on their plate—and holy banana balls, can these guys eat—Scarlet starts the introductions.
“You know Binksky, Pink, Johnny, and Deano from last night, though I don’t think you got a proper introduction.” She points them out one by one. “Alden, you’re already well acquainted with.” Her lips twitch as Alden turns scarlet. I tear my eyes away from him as soon as they settle on him. “This big softie here with all the tattoos is Ransom. He just looks scary and happened to choose a scary name.” Scarlet grins affectionately at the guy, who gives her a sappy grin back. “The twins are Orion and Atlas.” So they are twins. “And seated closest to you is Lennox.”
Lennox is the smallest of the entire group, and by small, I mean he’s still over six feet and heavily muscled. He’s gone for the more formal dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up look. Unlike the others, he has close-cropped sandy hair and, as if to make up for that, a massive beard.
“Now, can we do gifts?” Honestly, Ransom is so excited that he’s like a kid on Christmas morning, shifting in his chair and fidgeting with his fork until eggs go flying across the table.
What gifts? Why do I not like the sound of that?
Scarlet gives him a sweet smile. “After breakfast, dear.” She’s hardly taken anything for herself, and it makes sense because it’s clear she has a story to tell and doesn’t want to be distracted. Her bright green gaze lands on me, and I nearly gulp. I grasp my fork and lower my head to hide my discomfort. “None of you know Azalea, but here she is. She knows the basics, and that’s it. She’s asked, as I told you all, for proof that we are who we say we are. That’s rather difficult without a paper trail, but I do have a few things to go over this afternoon, and I know you’ll all do your best to demonstrate your skillset after breakfast. I wanted to start with a story. A story that you all know. About my husband.”
My fork pauses in midair. There’s something about Scarlet’s tone that cuts through me like a sharp blade. It’s not sadness per se. No, I’d classify it as more like animal grief. Raw and wild.
“After Robert passed—no, not passed. After Robert was murdered by the mafia, my grief was like a fog. He was my everything. I couldn’t do anything for myself. I had to learn how to drive and how to change a lightbulb, which I’d never had to do before. All those little things. Robert was a huge loss. He was everywhere. I still had the house, and all around it was reminders of the life we’d shared. Always. All those things were tangible evidence that he was never coming back, and I was now walking a path I’d hoped I never had to step foot on. All because Robert got a job working for the wrong people. He didn’t know what they did when he first started, and by the time he knew, he couldn’t stop. Then, when he knew too much, he died in a convenient accident. It was so shocking to me because those kinds of things happen to other people. But this time, they didn’t. It happened to me.
“I wanted revenge. I slept, ate, and breathed it, but I had no idea how to get it. I was helpless in so many ways, and it made life unbearable. It was like clawing my way through a thousand-foot mound of steaming shite that never ended. It was dung for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, but I kept tunneling. I was determined to break through that bitch. I still haven’t done it yet, but in that tunnel, I made friends. I found my path in the darkness. I found you boys, and you’ve all made it bearable. I met Ransom when he tried to mug me. He got more than he bargained for that day, wooooeeeee!”
