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“So, what happens now?” I ask, shrinking back into my seat a little.
While I’m glad that he’s not losing his shit, I feel like he should be. I may have put him in danger. It seems like I keep dragging him deeper into the pile of shit that is my life while he keeps trying to drag us out.
He pulls into his driveway and parks the truck. As he gets out, he doesn’t say anything though he does grab his copy of the magazine. I follow him, not knowing what else to do.
Salvatore makes his way into the house and to the kitchen, pulling open the fridge and grabbing a bottle of beer. He holds the bottle in my direction but I shake my head.
There is no way that I could stomach a drink right now, even if I was in the mood for drinking.
With a nod, he makes his way over to the living room and sits down on the couch. I sit down beside him, perching myself on the edge and facing him.
“Salvatore, what happens now? I can talk to the magazine but the pictures have already been run. I’ll still email them and ask them to crop the picture of you that would be online,” I say, already pulling out my phone and typing out an email.
“Yes, do that. After, we need to lay low for a little while. No more sneaking around illegal things and taking pictures for the time being.”
I nod, knowing that I’m willing to do just about anything to make this right. “Alright. No more pictures of illegal things for now.”
Salvatore kicks off his shoes and reaches for the remote. As he powers on the television, he kicks his feet up on the coffee table. I send the email, waiting for him to say something else. Instead, he takes another sip of his beer before putting the bottle down and slinging his arm over the back of the couch.
“Do you think there’s anything else I can do?” I ask, my voice wavering slightly. “I don’t want this to be more a problem for you than it already is.”
“Brielle, the only thing you can do to help me now is to relax and pick a fucking movie to watch.”
My eyes widen as I stare at him. “I have to admit, this is not how I pictured this situation going.”
“Like I said,” Salvatore says as I settle in beside him, keeping a safe amount of distance between us. “If you were anyone else, this is not how this night would have gone.”
12
SALVATORE
If my family could see me now, they would think that I was an imposter.
I glance at the dining table, eyeing the white tablecloth and the black place settings I put out. There is a vase of flowers in the middle — what the flowers are I don’t know but they smell sweet and look pretty.
The kitchen smells like birthday cake and the shrimp scampi cooking on the stove. It’s one of the few things that I know how to make well. Most of my younger years were spent learning how to kill instead of learning how to cook.
I feel nervous as I head to my bedroom and grab the present I got for Brielle. Even after asking her to lay low and ease back on the pictures last week, I still bought her a new lens for her camera.
It’s one that she’s been talking about every time we got out and pass her favorite camera shop. The lens is one that she keeps insisting is too expensive before she talks about how great the quality is.
Though I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t understand what she’s saying when she starts talking about the technical aspects of photography, I do like seeing her come to life.
Something about the passion she has draws me in when I should be running away.
My phone rings as I pull out the silver wrapping paper from my closet. I groan when I see Brennan’s name on the screen before answering.
“Hello,” I say, reaching back into the closet for the roll of tape and the bow I know I tossed in there the other day. “I don’t suppose you’re going to be coming home anytime soon so I can start focusing on my famiglia again, are you?”
Brennan chuckles. “I see you’re in a fantastic mood today. Don’t worry. It shouldn’t be more than a few weeks and then I’ll be coming home. I owe you a big one for this.”
“Yeah, you do,” I say as I struggle to roll out the wrapping paper with one hand.
“What the hell are you doing?” Brennan asks. “All I can hear is something rustling.”
“Reading the newspaper.” I don’t want to tell him that I bought Brielle a birthday present in case he starts to get the wrong idea.
“Yeah, I don’t believe that load of shit for a minute.”
