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“Hey, why don’t you go find your mom and your brothers while I talk to Uncle Loz?” he says quietly.
She pouts. “I want Uncle Loz to play princess dinosaurs with me too.”
“He will soon. He and Daddy just need to talk first. Okay?”
Gabriella turns to me, her brow pinched into a cute frown as she considers his request. She looks so much like Joey; when she pouts, it’s almost like traveling back in time to when my sister was her age. “I promise I’ll play soon,” I assure her.
“Good.” After a decisive nod, she squishes Dante’s cheeks together and kisses him loudly on the mouth, then wiggles out of his arms and scampers off down the hallway.
With a sigh, I watch her leave and wait for my younger brother’s lecture. While I’m the oldest, he’s the official head of the family. My father denied me that birthright when I chose Anya Novikov as my bride instead of the Italian woman he picked out for me.
“What the fuck, Loz?” Dante snaps once his daughter is out of earshot.
“I told you, I didn’t like what they had to say.”
He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “This shit happens almost every single fucking time you leave the house.”
I square up to him. “Why the fuck do you care about those two pieces of shit anyway? I did the world a favor getting rid of Manfred and Richie.”
He cocks his head, visibly working to keep a lid on his temper. “I don’t give a fuck about Manfred and Richie, but I do give a fuck about you leaving a trail of goddamn bodies in your wake every fucking time you walk out the front door.”
I snarl. “I cleaned up after myself. I always do.”
He gives my clothes a pointed look. “Not well enough.”
Glancing down, I wince at the blood, so much of it clearly visible on my dark suit. Pretty sure some of Manfred’s brain matter is spattered on my shoes too. “I’ll take care of it now.”
“But you drove home like that, Loz. What if some asshole cop with a point to prove had stopped you?”
“The cops don’t stop us,” I remind him.
“It takes one fucking time, Loz.” He holds up his pointer finger, his brow furrowed in a deep scowl. “One fucking time.”
I shrug. “I don’t fucking care.”
“I do, Loz,” he shouts. “I fucking care!”
My pulse races, and I suck in a deep breath through my nose. I can’t do this right now. I can’t—
He grabs my face in his hands, pressing his forehead against mine. “I can’t fucking do this without you, brother.”
“You can.” I choke out the words.
“No I can’t. If you don’t give a fuck about yourself, think about us and how we would ever cope without you. Me and Kat. Joey and Max.” His pleas pull at some of those tiny slivers, gathering enough together to make my heart start beating again. It’s faint but there. “Think about Gabriella and the boys and what they would do if they lost you.” Those words act as the final nail in my coffin, and I break.
Tears stream down my face, and he wraps his arms around my head and neck, pulling me into his shoulder. “This has to stop, Loz.”
“I know,” I admit.
But what if I can’t stop?
ChapterThree
LORENZO
Dante fastens his cufflinks and studies me with concern. “You sure you’ll be okay? We can stay home.”
I roll my eyes and look into the face of his eight-month-old son, Micah, who’s nestled in the crook of my arm and drooling while he chews on a teething ring. “Your daddy thinks I can’t handle some little punks like you and your big brother and sister?” I bounce him and he giggles.
