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“I don't know what your deal is but I will not…” I begin to say with my pitch rising as I deliver each word, meaning to tell him I won't take any of his playful bullying.
“Rose,” Lawrence's voice cuts me short and I spin to see him standing by the entryway of the kitchen.
No smiles, no expression of being thrilled to see his sister is in one piece. Just him, raven hair and onyx eyes like my mother’s, in his black dress pants, black dress shirt, and pouty lips waiting to see if I will run into his arms like the scared sister he has always known me to be.
“Lawrence,” I jump from the stool, grateful to see a familiar face. “You are here,” I scurry over to him but I don't jump on him.
“I did say that, didn't I?” Orazio grunts behind me and I allow myself the vanity of giving him a middle finger.
“How are you doing?” Lawrence lifts my chin with his index finger, observing my neck, “What is this?” He lifts his eyebrow.
I clear my throat, “I scratched my neck because I used a bath wash that I was allergic to last night,” the lie comes easily to me. I can't tell the truth for now, especially since we are in Benedetto’s territory. “But you are here,” I flip the topic and observe him like I cannot believe it because I cannot.
“And dad?” I hurry past him, not waiting for his answer.
I dash for the sitting room to see my father with his usual crinkled forehead, reclining hairline of brown hair, and bulgy eyes like mine, in the same outfit as Lawrence only his is navy blue.
“Dad!” I'm a little girl with a voucher to pick anything she wants from her favorite candy store right now.
“Rose,” he smiles and I scamper to him, almost tumbling over myself as I throw myself on him and wrap both arms around his neck.
“Dad,” I squeeze tighter, feeling my nose prick from the tears that are now dancing in my eyes.
When I travel, half the time it's because I cannot stand to be in the same house with my father and my brother without losing my mind. But at this moment their presence brings me great relief. I cannot believe I'm admitting this but I miss him and his tobacco breath.
“I don't deserve hugs now, do I?” Lawrence scoffs behind me.
“We don't do hugs,” I pull away from my father and stick my tongue out at him.
“It's good to see you too,” he walks to the sofa and sits.
“Benedetto asked you both to come?” I flick glances between the both of them and my father nods.
“He means well,” Lawrence nods too.
Only he doesn't. They think he does but I know him and I know he doesn't. He is not who he portrays himself to be.
“Dad, he doesn't mean well, I don't feel safe here, I feel trapped,” I say under my breath carefully so Orazio and Evelyn won't hear me from the kitchen.
“You don't look trapped to me,” Lawrence skims my outfit, “But you need a new bath wash,” he points at my neck.
I shoot him daggers, then turn back to my father, “Dad, we have to leave, we can't stay here,” I'm pleading but I know to my father it sounds like when I was asking him to give Lawrence my royal blue Porsche and give me his emerald green one.
“What exactly did he do aside from bringing you down here?” My father clips.
“He…” I clear my throat, “he just looks frightening.”
“Everyone that isn't shoving their tongue in your mouth looks frightening to you,” Lawrence jeers.
“What is that supposed to mean?” I scowl at him.
“You know what it means,” he lifts from his seat.
“Make it plain and see if I won't stick my fingers in your eyes,” I start to walk towards him. I won't.
“See, she still has her trademark of being overbearing, all good,” he says to my father.
“That makes no sense!” I yell.
