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Matteo clears his throat as he leans forward, nudging his empty plate out of the way as he crosses his arms on the table top. “I didn’t say whether you were dying or not.”
Nonna rolls her eyes, making me desperate to do the same, but I manage to refrain. My gaze travels to Vito instead. He hasn’t said a word since I walked in. This morning is a far too distant memory amidst everything else now, and I have a feeling I’ve hurt him the most. Or I would have if they actually had any feelings and emotions to begin with.
“How about we have a go at a quick draw, see who pulls their weapon first and get this bullshit over with?” The words slip from my mouth, my father's voice echoing in my mind in memory of the number of times he said those exact words to me.
Matteo shakes his head, his version of an eye roll, as he turns his gaze away from me once again.
Tension sits tight in my spine, the offer still on the table. I refuse to be caught off-guard if one of them opts to pull a weapon without notice.
Pursing my lips, I place my palms on the table, ready to stand, when the shrill sound of a phone rings through the house, making Nonna groan in agitation. “I’ll help you with the clothes,Bella, if you respond to Mrs. Steele because she hasn’t stopped calling since you arrived, and the ringing is starting to get on my last nerve.” Her smile is tight, the irritation clear in her features as I nod, wincing with a hint of guilt.
I take that as my cue to leave, slipping my hand into my pocket, wrapped around the gun as I give the De Luca brothers my back.
I’m surprised no one follows me to the bedroom to ensure the door is locked behind me, but relief courses through me as I close it shut and drop down onto the bed. I pull my gun from my pocket first, laying it on the sheets beside me before I dip into my other pocket to retrieve my phone.
Twelve unread messages
Thirty missed calls.
I roll my eyes at the ridiculousness that is Featherstone, or Luna, more specifically. I thought we were on the same page that I was a bitch and everything was even now, but apparently not. With a heavy sigh, I shuffle back on the bed, leaning against the headboard as I open the messages.
Luna
Where are you? Are you okay?
Let’s not do this silent shit, it doesn’t suit you.
Have you taken her phone? You fuckers better get her on the line. Now.
Can you at least confirm that you’re not dead?
Where. Are. You?
I can’t come and find you if you don’t help me out!
This wasn’t the plan, Wren. What on earth is going on?
Goddammit, Wren
Maybe I should just leave you to rot like you did to me after you jumped me in Ace Block if this is how you’re going to be.
Fuck, Wren. Answer me. That’s a fucking order.
Fuck.
I’m used to being on the harsher end of Luna’s wrath, but not where she’s fucking worried for my safety. What the hell is that about?
A yawn teases at my lips as I tap out my response.
Wren
Unfortunately for you, I’m still breathing. It's like a vacay; accommodations are good and the food is fabulous. Stop worrying and focus on the Russians.
I hit send, but another thought buzzes at the tips of my fingers, and before I can think better of it, I add another message.
Wren
Jumping you was a simple decision. Attack you or feel the wrath of my father. I made the decision we would all make in that situation. It isn’t worth shit, but I’m sorry that happened, and in the grand scheme of things, I think we went through far worse in the months that followed. We each had our roles to play whether we liked it or not. But now we’re even. Don’t worry about me, and I won’t have to worry about you.
