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“It’s okay,” I assured her.
“Hey, ah, Nino,” Santo called, and there was something amused in his tone.
“What?” I asked, turning toward the door.
“Figured maybe Savannah might, you know, want her shirt back. I’m sure none of us would be opposed to her going without it, but, you know…” he trailed off. “Oh, and her panties were ripped, so I went ahead and discreetly tossed them for you guys,” he added. My glance moved in Savannah’s direction to find a smile tugging at her lips and her cheeks just the barest bit pink. “Not that I have any problem with you two having some naked time in the kitchen. Totally seems sanitary to me. Anyway… the shirt?”
“Let me guess,” Savannah said in a whisper. “One of your brothers?”
“Santo,” I confirmed. “The fourth of six,” I added.
“Go ahead. Open the door,” she said. “I’ve already made quite the impression with Massimo,” she added, rolling her eyes at herself. “What’s one more unglamorous introduction?”
But she did take a second to rearrange her sheet so it completely covered her.
With that, I opened the door to Santo who was twirling Savannah’s shirt around on the tip of his finger.
“Well, if it isn’t the famous Savannah,” Santo said, giving her a brotherly sort of smile. “I thought this might suit you better than the sheet,” he said.
“That was kind of you,” Savannah said, smile warm, but her eyes were looking a little glassy. The booze was getting to her. Maybe that was for the best.
“Santo,” he said, nodding at her. “The better brother.”
“Good to know,” she agreed. “But I’m kind of fond of this one,” she said. “He has the eye crinkles,” she added.
“Hell, give me a few years, I’ll get those crinkles too.”
“Get the fuck outta here,” I said, slapping him across the chest, shoving him back out of the door.
“Can I tell Ma to expect to see her at her table soon, or…”
“Go downstairs and put your ass to work,” I said, slamming the door in his face.
“So, the superior brother, huh?” Savannah asked, taking the shirt from me.
“He’s got enough ego, but not enough sense, to claim that,” I told her.
“The brotherly antagonism is cute,” she told me. “I need my skirt,” she reminded me.
“Right. I’ll grab it,” I told her, moving out into the bedroom, closing the door behind me so I could take a deep breath as I leaned back against the door.
I didn’t realize I had an audience until I heard Massimo speak. “All that worry over nothing, huh?” he asked.
“What worry?”
“Please. You were tense as fuck down there.”
“I just got my house shot up,” I reminded him.
“Yet your gaze kept going up toward the ceiling, worrying about that woman in there,” he said.
“Gotta find these fucks. This is twice they almost killed her.”
“Twice they almost killed you too, brother,” he reminded me. “Can’t forget that.”
“You’ll make them pay.”
As the Family’s hitman, I had no doubts about that.
