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“You know this girl only wants you for the money,” Dario says, his voice cracking like he might cry. “That’s why she said all that shit. That’s why she pretended to feel the same as you.”
“Out! Now!”
“That’s why—”
I grab him by the front of his shirt and haul him off his feet. He’s almost as tall and big as me, but he’s like a toddler as I shove him against the wall. He grabs my wrist, his eyes snapping open wildly, a flash of fear as he glares.
“Get your fucking hand off me.”
“What we have is real,” I growl. “As real as what you and Angelica had. Disrespect it again, and I’ll forget you’re my brother.”
“Take your goddamn hands offnow.”
“Do it, Dario. Disrespect her. Disrespect our relationship. Do it.Do it.”
The fight drains out of him.
“Just let me go,” he says, “and I’ll leave. I don’t want to be here anymore, anyway.”
“You’re lucky nobody heard you talking to me like that.”
“Oh, why, brother?” Dario replies, walking around the table when I let him go. It’s like he wants to put some distance between us. “Would you hurt me?”
“I would’ve done what I had to.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t talk about your relationship anymore. I won’t talk about anything. Not with you.”
“You sound like a sulky child.”
“That’s me.” He strides for the door, snatching up the whiskey bottle. “Just one big overgrown kid. Have a good night.”
I lose control again. I spin and punch the wall, then drop into my seat, panting, gasping, animalistic, and thinking of Emma.
CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE
Emma
As soon as we enter the house, Rosa charges through the foyer straight to her mother’s shrine. I yell and try to stop her, knowing she’ll regret whatever she’s about to do, but then she throws herself into the destruction. With a scream, she kicks the leg of the supporting unit. It must hurt like heck, but she doesn’t show any sign of it. She does it again and then starts flinging the thankfully unlit candles everywhere. She smashes the glass in the picture frame, then throws it across the room.
“Rosa, you’re bleeding.”
I move to her quickly, my hands raised to calm her down. She’s a storm, a human tsunami, and I can tell calming down is the last thing shewantsto do, let alonecando. She shakes her head quickly, her knuckles dripping crimson.
“Every conversation we’ve ever had…”
Her body shudders in time with her voice. I made a mistake in the car, reading her shellshocked quiet as incoming calm. She waited until we arrived home to let it all out and unleash the rage trapped inside.
“Every time we visited her grave… Do you know how many times we stood here, hugging, talking about Mom? Or just watching the flames flicker in her picture frame? Each moment was special.”
“They can still be special,” I murmur.
Eddie lingers nearby. Looking over my shoulder, I see him frowning as if unsure of what to do.
“It’s fine,” I tell him.
“Yeah, Eddie, we’re fine,” Rosa says in a cutting tone. “My whole life’s a lie. Everything I ever believed is bullshit, but we’refine, okay?”
“You should let me bandage your hand, miss.”
