I poured more wine and stared into the fire.
I was doing that a lot lately, just randomly staring at things, searching for answers in all the wrong places. I poured more wine and stared into the fire. I could handle the flame, not the whole fireplace, the whole fireplace somehow translated into much more meaning to me, meaning I wasn’t ready to face.
The air shifted, a shadow crossed briefly in front of me, the footsteps were heavy, solid. “Dante.”
“How the hell did you know?” he asked in a defeated voice as he joined me on the couch.
“Practice.” I drank more wine.
“So…” Dante coughed into his hand then crossed his arms.
“Spit it out, man.”
He leaned forward and placed his hands out in front of him as if he was going to give me a huge speech. I really didn’t want to talk about his sister.
“I’m just gonna come out and ask it, all right?”
“Probably a good call, I’m not a patient man.”
“No shit,” he muttered then rubbed his hands together. “I want you to train me.”
“Huh?” I set the wine on the coffee table and turned to face him. “Train you? How, exactly?”
He gulped. “I want to know how to fight better. I’m a good shot, but I could be better. I have anger issues, and I don’t know why — at least, I know I struggle with my temper. I was just thinking, since you’re here, and since… I guess I have no choice now…” His voice trailed off.
“You realize what you’re asking me,” I stated in a quiet voice.
“I think so.”
“You think so?” I sneered. “Thinking is the same as hesitation. You don’t think, you know. If you want me to train you, I’ll train you, but do you really think you’re ready? To laugh death in the face? To end someone’s life? Do you even realize the innocent people I’ve taken from this world? Are you ready to do that? To kill someone who doesn’t deserve it? Because it seems to me that you may be under the impression we only kill the bad guys.” I let out a heartless laugh. “I wish.”
“You kill innocent people.”
“I kill.” I nodded. “Period. A job’s a job. But loose ends? We don’t do loose ends. If we have a rat and he has a family, a wife, kids, and we suspect them…” I shrugged. He’d figure it out.
He was quiet for a minute then whispered, “Has that happened before?”
“More times than I’d care to admit.”
“Did Luca ever hesitate?”
“He hesitated when necessary. He knew how to time everything, he was…. strategic.”
“That.” Dante nodded, his lips drawn into a grim line. “Teach me that. Killing must be the last option, but outsmarting people? That I know I can do.”
A weight lifted off my shoulders, because the last thing I wanted to do was teach Luca’s son about murder. But intelligence? Yeah, I could do that with my eyes closed.
“Yes.”
“What?” He frowned.
“I said yes. I’ll train you.”
He exhaled. “Thanks.”
“I don’t do hugs though.” I held out my hand; he gripped it and shook on it.
“Dude, I hug my sister. That’s it.”
“Good to hear it.”
“How is she?” he asked, changing the subject.
And I was back to staring into the fireplace, reaching for my wine — anything to take away the churning in my stomach. “Good.”
“Will you ever be able to love her?”
I thought about it for a while. Could I? Not in the way I loved Andi, but I imagined I could learn to love her like family, and that was better than nothing. “Like a sister… I can love her that way.”
“Hey.” Val knocked on the wall, announcing her arrival. “The uncles are gathering in the kitchen. There’s wine, there’s yelling, and I heard something about Chicago? Can you guys come help?”
Dante rolled his eyes and stood. “When are they not fighting?”
“Right.” Val held up her hands in innocence. “But they never fight if they’ve already finished three bottles of wine.”
“Girl has a point,” Dante muttered as he moved past Val.
Her eyes darted to mine, uncertainty and hurt laced every angle of her face. Damn it.
She’d heard.
The dreaded sister word.
At least now she knew.
I’d protect her with my life.
I’d love her like I would any family member.
But she would never share my bed.
Or have my heart.
Now I am dead. Now I am fled. –A Midsummer Night’s Dream
Valentina
HE DIDN’T EVEN apologize or at least explain himself. It was rough, the entire situation was rough. It was like being told you’re good but not good enough.
I realized in that moment, when Sergio stared me down, refusing to go back on what he said about me being like a sister, that I’d been more than coddled and sheltered. I’d been straight up locked inside a box with only one window looking out on the world.
I straightened my spine and gave him a half smirk even though I didn’t feel it. “If I’m your sister that means you’d pull a Dante and go to the movies with me, doesn’t it?”