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He laughs and kisses me and grab his keys. “Come on. Let’s go bring him home.”
Chapter 32
Angelo
A haze of smoke hangs over the room as Nicolas puffs on a cigar and drinks a whiskey and laughs with Carmine. Brice grins at the boys while Sara sits with Cassidy and Robyn and a few of the Scavo guys that flew down for this little celebration. We’re in a back room of the Oak Club, and this is only possible because Carmine pulled some strings and paid some bribes, but it’s a damn nice spot: free top-shelf alcohol and zero oversight all in a high-class atmosphere.
I hate it. This place, anyway. The Oak Club represents everything I despise. The money, the power, the control. The people in this place look at me like I’m scum, the same way they look at Carmine, and Nicolas, and all the other guys like us.
“Why do you look like we’re at a funeral instead of a party?” Sara asks, leaning up against me. She’s in this incredible black dress, the sort of dress that hugs her curves and makes her look like she belongs on the cover of a magazine. Her dark hair’s up in a tight bun and her lips are red, and she’s looking at me like I’m the only man in the room, and those eyes are heaven.
“Just thinking about this place is all. How nothing good ever happens here.”
“Except for this party.” She takes my arm and leans her head on my shoulder. “We got him home. We should celebrate.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Except I don’t feel like celebrating but I can’t say that.
When this is over, I’m supposed to go back to Philly with Nicolas. We got a flight and we’ve got plans. I have a crew waiting for me, more men that need my leadership, and I’ve been away for long enough already. The bastards are probably forgetting about me, and I’m going to have to reassert myself the second I step foot on my own turf.
And I’m fucking dreading it.
Not because I can’t do it—that won’t be a problem—but because I’ll be there when I want to be here.
Only it’s my responsibility. I’m a Capo in the Scavo Famiglia. I’m a made man with a crew and with people counting on me to earn for them. If I stay, I’ll let them all down, but worst of all, I’ll let Carmine down.
“Come on, have a drink. Make it a double, have one for me and one for you.”
I kiss Sara’s cheek. “You’re just trying to get me drunk so you can take advantage of me.”
“Do I need to get you drunk for that?”
“Absolutely not. All you’ve got to do is wear that dress and I am down to do whatever filthy thing you can think of.”
She blushes slightly and swats my arm. “You’re a pig.”
“Does that mean you’ll let me hike that skirt up and fuck you raw from behind in the bathroom?”
“It means wait until we’re back at the hotel, you pig.” She walks away, shaking her head, but she’s smiling.
And I’m smiling back.
And that makes it harder.
Because tomorrow, I’m leaving.
Carmine catches my eye. He comes over and leans up against the wall beside me. “Not like you to watch a party from a distance.”
“I’ve got stuff on my mind.”
“Why? Relax, kick back, have a cigar. They’re Cuban.”
“I bet they are.” I shake my head. “How can you stand this shit?”
“It’s all just a show, my friend,” he says and sighs. “You’ve got to get over it, you know?”
“Nah, that’s not me. I’m a street guy, you know what I mean? I run my crew. I roam my territory. That’s all I do.”
He narrows his eyes at me for a second then gestures with his head. “Come with me. I want to talk.”
I hesitate, but he leads me out of the private area, down a side hall, and through a doorway.
The garden is big and beautiful. It’s right in the middle of the Oak in a hidden courtyard. There are big bushes, blooming flowers, a gravel-lined path, and benches at even intervals. Lights glow from the ground like a magic hive’s buzzing in the earth. I walk with Carmine, sipping my drink as he puffs away, and when we reach the middle of the area, he stops beside a bench.
“You like it here,” he says and faces me.
“Texas? It’s fine. It’s not home.”
“But you like it anyway.” His eyebrows raise. “Because of her.”
I don’t need to ask who he means. Sara’s face drifts into my mind. Sara laughing, Sara smiling. Sara kissing me, Sara moaning, Sara coming. Sara biting my lip and curling up against me.
“Yeah, I do.”
“Why haven’t you asked me yet?”
“Asked you what?”
He sighs like I’m being fucking obtuse. “Why haven’t you ask me to stay?”
I stare at him, not sure what to say. “I didn’t know that was an option.”
