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“Bring on tomorrow,” Mera teases, rubbing her hands together as a dreamy look comes over her face. “I want to watch a movie and read racy books.”
“Mera!” I gasp. “Why would you want to read those sorts of books? It’s… they’re indecent and… they’re lewd.”
“There’s nothing wrong with her wanting to read risqué novels, Shayne,” Luca lightly scolds her. “You said you want to live a little, give it a chance. The world won’t shatter because you two want to be a little naughty. I dare you to give it a shot. The erotica lifestyle isn’t necessarily one you would choose for yourself, but going outside of your comfort zone is the only way you’ll be able to explore your interest and find out what makes you purr.”
“Purr?” I choke. He makes it sound lovable instead of salacious. “The nuns would fumble all over themselves and make a sign of the cross across their chests if they were to overhear this conversation. They’d believe we’d been touched by diabolism, needing an extensive lesson in what’s proper and pure. In our sex education class, it was drilled into us that the marital bed is for reproduction intentions, not for lustful activities. After all, lust is a sin.”
“Ah, one of my favorite sins to explore,” Luca saucily includes. “I see they weren’t shy about expanding y’all’s vocabulary either. Diabolism isn’t a word used in everyday conversation.”
“It is when you’re raised in a convent,” I ascertain.
“We’re well-versed in biblical definitions,” Mera supplies.
“Was it part of your spelling bee too?” Luca asks, his eyebrows shooting up into his forehead. “I didn’t know what that word meant until my junior year of Catholic Sunday school.”
“You went to Sunday school?” I probe, because he doesn’t seem the type.
“Our mother was Irish Catholic. She was brought up in a strict, religious household, even if they were living a secret life outside of that theology,” Julius informs me.
“What do you mean by that?” I wonder aloud.
“Our mom was from the Irish Mafia, and our dad was from the Columbian mob. Their marriage was one of convenience, a way to unite two forces and make them a powerhouse to be reckoned with,” Julius answers. “It was rare but wasn’t the first of its kind.”
“Wow!” Mera whistles. “That’s one syndicate I wouldn’t want to cross.”
“To the Crumleys, we became a challenge,” Luca confesses.
“It started with the Crumbleys,” I correct him.
“Yeah, how did that whole name swap thing happen anyway? We’ve referred to them as both in the past because we weren’t sure which was the right pronunciation.” Luca has a valid question, and all I can do is give them the answer my brothers gave me when I asked.
“Crumbley comes from our Colombian roots, and Crumley is used by our Irish side, which gets confusing at times. But the spelling and pronunciation of our last name varies from one country to the next. It’s the same family. They work side-by-side, only spread out in different regions,” I enlighten them.
“It’s a way for them to control two different geographical territories,” Julius clarifies.
“It’s not happenstance either that they’re from the same countries our forefathers came from, or where they established our familial domain,” Luca defines.
“They want to take away what our family built from the ground up,” Julius confirms.
“Without putting in the work,” I maintain. “It’s easier for them to steal than to put their blood, sweat, and tears into it.”
“They’re dirty, but don’t want to get the dirt underneath their fingernails by being that way. It’s abhorrent,” Mera snaps, her mouth turning downward into a frown. “Your brothers are worse than I believed.”
“I told you my family is evil,” I remind her.
“Yeah, but there’s evil, and then there’sevil!” she comes back.
“True. I can’t believe that their blood runs through my veins.” I sigh.
“Blood ties don’t make you evil, Shayne. Your life is what you make it,” Julius conveys, sincerity blanketing his features. “You’re a good person with a good heart. Use that to make yourself who you want to be.”
“I will,” I determine. “I refuse to be like them.”
* * *
A slight nudge to my shoulder awakens me. I must’ve fallen asleep mid-conversation because I don’t remember shutting my eyes.
“We’re here. We’ll go through the garage entrance so nobody sees you,” Julius tells me.
