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“He seems a bit too protective to be just her boss,” Jake says as he mulls over the information, scratching his chin with one hand and pulling his phone from his pocket with the other. “Diletto. It is Italian for beloved or darling,” he states and now I am wondering if the old guy is indeed her father or uncle or something. Maybe it’s her dad and he is just overprotective? I guess that may make sense? She probably gets hit on all the time in a place like this, so he is probably just used to fending off all the male attention that’s thrown her way. And I know that she would get a lot of it. She is stunning.
I sit forward, my elbows resting on my knees and look again to the bar and to the doorway that leads out the back. Shaun slaps me on the shoulder. “Fuck it. Let’s get out of here, Bro. We can go to Romeo’s restaurant and get some good Italian food before we go home. Baxter is not sleeping through the night yet, so I know if I don’t eat now then I won’t get a chance to eat later.”
I look at Shaun, I do love my older brother, I do, but I don’t really care about what he wants right now. All I want is to see Frankie again, and he knows it. My face must portray what I am thinking because he sighs and squeezes his grip, in a supportive gesture.
“I know you want to see her, but let’s take the hint from the old guy tonight. At least now you know where to find her if you decide to come back another day? Stomping after her or sitting here waiting like a stalker for her to return is not going to end well nor earn you any brownie points with them,” Shaun says, looking at me with raised eyebrows.
“I agree. I am starving and perhaps you can come back when the old guy isn’t here,” Stephen adds as he stands up, prompting the three of us to follow his actions.
I blow out a breath and nod in agreement, then take the last swig of my beer. We leave our empty beer bottles on the table, and together we walk toward the door and start to file out one by one.
I stand holding the door open for each of them to walk through, and I look back at the bar again. I see the old guy watching me as he leans against the doorway of the back door at the bar. His arms are crossed, and he gives me a nod of acknowledgement, which I return before I begin walking out behind my brothers, knowing that I will be back.
6
Frankie
The muffled sounds of people, glasses, and the jukebox rumble through the room as I sit upstairs above the bar. I am at the small, circular dining table having a cup of tea with Sofia in her kitchen. It’s a small space, older, full of rich timber cabinetry, and the table where we are perched is solid oak. The room is dark, the velvet red curtains are drawn, and the TV is off. It feels homely, a relaxed space where I can just be me.
It is decorated simply, with trinkets and photos of Alf and Sofia, and even one of Sebastian and I as kids. It is not identifiable to anyone outside of the family, not that anyone else comes here. They rarely have visitors. None that make it past the front bar anyway.
I feel so drained and a little sad and deflated. My palm is starting to itch underneath the bandage so I unwrap it, thinking some fresh air to the wound might be a good thing. Maybe some fresh air would help my mind too. I try to squeeze my hand shut and move my fingers to encourage the blood to pump through my hand and stretch the cut a little so that it can start getting back to normal.
“Are you all right, Diletto?” she asks quietly. The Italian word for darling falls from her tongue like a warm, soft cuddle, and I think of my mama and how she never once uttered those words to me. Sofia looks from my face, to my hand and back again, and I wince slightly when I move my fingers due to the skin pulling from the stitches.
Sofia has been more of a mother figure throughout my life than my own mama was. While my mama would be out all night with papa and then sleep most of the next day, Sofia was the woman I went to throughout my teenage years when I needed female support. She was the one to scuttle me out of the kitchen when I would sneak in to steal whatever baked goods she was making, and she was also the one who read me bedtime stories when I was little. Our favorite was Rapunzel.
“I’m okay, Padrina,” I say with a sigh, wondering what the next steps are for me. I can’t continue to live like this; it has been eight long months already. I knew my papa would not give up trying to find me so easily, but he needs to stop at some point. I know that a father will never stop looking for his daughter, but I need to have my life back. I just want to be a normal young woman, exploring life. I just want to live.
Sofia gets up from the table and grabs some ointment from her medicine box above the fridge. Sitting back down, she reaches for my hand and places it palm up on the table. Softly, she applies the cream to my cut, soothing the itch and hydrating the area so the pulling feeling lessens. I really don’t want it to scab, so I hope this ointment helps.
“Okay, he is gone,” Alf says as he steps into the kitchen, breaking our quiet moment. He looks at us both and appears to be just as exhausted as I feel. Sofia jumps up to make him a fresh cup of tea as he sits down next to me. His huge body takes up most of the space around the table. He may be old, but he is still a large, scary-looking man. If you didn't know him then he would be quite intimidating.
Taking my hand, he looks over it. “It is healing well, Fifi. Those stitches I put in should be able to come out in a few days.” He takes the bandages and wraps up my hand again. Now that the ointment is on, it feels much better.
“Thanks,” I reply glumly. Alf, like me, has stitched up a few wounds in his time, and I am lucky that I snuck here when I did the night I hurt myself, as my hand wouldn’t stop bleeding. Sofia was a little frightened when I showed up banging on her back door late at night, but as usual, they rushed me inside and helped me with nothing but love and support. I really don’t know what I would do without them.
“Hey, don’t be sad, Diletto. We knew this was going to be a long road. Your papa is not going to rest until he finds you, but let’s hope that horrible man, Enzo, that he has promised you to, loses interest and finds someone else to take his fancy.” Alf takes a sip of his tea as Sofia takes a seat back at the table with us and pats my arm in support.
Enzo. Just the mention of his name sends a shiver of fear through me. He is not a nice man, something my thirteen-year-old self unfortunately discovered. He still haunts my dreams.
He’s is an older man in his late fifties, who lost his first wife a few years ago and now wants another, preferably a younger one. He owns the criminal activities in almost half of New York; my papa owns the other half. Papa and Enzo have known each other for a long time. In the early days, they didn’t get along, each one trying to get controlling interest. But now they seem to have come to a stalemate. Enzo does some business running drugs with my papa and in order for papa to get controlling interest in Enzo’s business operations on the other side of the city, he wants something in return.
That something is me.
My papa, who I am sure loves me in his own weird way, prefers to have strong alliances and business success, so he’s happily offered me up to be Enzo’s bride. He thinks it is a win: win for everyone, a great option for the family, to bring someone like Enzo into the fold.
Sebastian and I were horrified when papa announced this to us. Not only for my life, which would consist of a lonely and most likely violent marriage and early death; but also because we didn’t want Enzo coming into our family. His business dealings are predominately illegal, the very thing Sebastian is trying to move away from, and the two of them would fight to lead the family once papa retires. Bringing Enzo into the family would be a death trap for all of us; papa is the only one who can’t see that.
“I know.” I sigh again and take another sip of the warm tea, feeling comforted by the hot liquid that makes its way down my throat and settles into my stomach, calming me. Like a warm blanket on a rainy day.
“I am not supposed to tell you this as he wanted it to be a surprise, but Sebastian is coming to town to see you,” Alf says to me in a half-resigned, half-excited tone. He knows that seeing Sebastian is the one thing that makes me happy, and after warning me to stay away from Marco tonight, he is trying to ensure I smile again. I don’t get to see Sebastian as much as I would like, so his visits are special.
A smile immediately makes its way to my face. Sebastian is a few years older than me, and papa is molding him to take over the family business. He is not married because he hasn’t met the right woman yet, much to papa’s disappointment, although he isn’t short of female interest and companionship. He is often seen with different women each night and has a bevy of regular women who chase after him and try to infiltrate his life.
But Sebastian doesn’t want to run a family business in the drug trade or manage any of the other illegal activities my papa currently does. When he takes over, he has plans to change things, for the better. I don’t know how, but I know that whatever Sebastian puts his mind to, it will happen.
Sebastian is extremely protective of me, more so than any normal older brother. He helped me flee before I could be married off to Enzo and has kept my location a secret, regularly providing both Alf and me with money to ensure we don’t go without. He is living dangerously close to the edge because if papa ever found out he has hidden me away, there would be hell to pay.
