She bit her lip as she stared down at her food, feeling every word he had said and knowing there was no jealousy of the relationship Sal had with his father. Dang it, she really wished he would stop surprising her with how little she understood him.
“I’m glad you two found each other then.”
His eyes turned that beautiful shade of green. “And I’m glad you like him. It means a lot to me that you feel comfortable around him.”
The crazy thing was, she had. She even felt comfortable with scary Drago. The question was: how? She wasn’t comfortable with anyone, especially men. However, not once had she feared they would even touch her.
Chloe remembered then that, when Sal had sat down, he had pulled his chair far enough away from her and was very careful not to touch her during their tutoring session. It was the same with Drago. He was always careful of the distance between them and to not come close to touching her.
Looking into the green eyes before her, she now knew why, and it had been in front of her the whole time.
“You told Sal and Drago to be careful around me, didn’t you?”
Smiling, he answered, “Yes.”
“W-What did you tell them?”
Lucca leaned in, caressing a strand of her hair. “That they are only allowed to get so close to you.” He twisted the strand around his finger once. “And that they are to never touch you unless it is life or death.” Another twist made the strand wrap around the length of his finger. “Or I’ll fucking kill them.”
A cold tingle trickled down her body. She saw it in his eyes then, that he would even kill a man he considered a brother if he touched her. There was no question about it; she was sure he wouldn’t even second-guess it.
“W-Why?”
He caressed the strand wrapped around his finger with his thumb. “For you.”
It turned out that she not only never understood him, but I don’t know him at all.
Seventeen
Is Today the Day You Want to Die?
Lucca parked his car in the parking garage, right in front of the door he expected the person he was waiting for to come out. Getting out, he leaned against the hood of his classic black Cadillac. Then, pulling out a cigarette, he lit the end. It was his first cigarette of the day, still being early in the morning.
He sucked the contents faster than usual as he waited. Then he pulled out another one, wanting to savor it.
It was rare for Lucca to need help, but he was going to ask for it. He needed to ask it from probably the only person who understood him; the only person who knew how his mind worked, because their mind was like his.
We both hear the whispers.
Finally, the door opened, and he heard the clicking of heels. The man to come out the door first held his hand up, stopping the person behind him. When he realized it was just Lucca, he exited, waving for the one he held up to come out.
The clicking of the heels moved closer until the stilettos stopped right in front of him.
“Why does it look like my big brother wants something from me?”
Lucca motioned to the two men standing behind her. “Leave us. I’m taking Maria to school today.”
“No. No, you will not! I’m pissed at you. Don’t leave me with this psychopath!” she yelled after her bodyguards. But despite her effort, the two men made their exit.
Removing the cigarette from his mouth, he looked at his sister incredulously. “I’m the psychopath?”
Maria crossed her arms. “Yes, you are an unstable and aggressive person who lacks empathy and remorse.” She was obviously spending too much time in her psychology books.
“First of all, I’m the stable one; you’re not. But I think you are forgetting a major part of that diagnosis. A real psychopath appears normal and charming, hiding the fact they are aggressive, and lack empathy and remorse.” Taking one long and final hit, he tossed the bud to the ground. “Now, who does that sound like to you? Because it sure as fuck isn’t me.”
Uncrossing her arms, she flipped her long, golden hair behind her shoulder. “You were never good at hiding your true colors. Unlike you, I like the surprise when they find out I’m crazy.”
“Because you are a true fucking psychopath.”
Maria went silent for a moment, becoming serious. “Yes, but if I’m a psychopath, what does that make you?”
The question wasn’t meant to be answered, because the question was an impossible one to answer. They both knew Lucca was too fucked up for a definitive diagnosis.
Folding his arms across his chest, he was done talking about who was more fucked up. “So, why are you mad at me?”
Stomping her expensive heel on the pavement, she huffed, “Because you kicked us out of the house!”
“I thought you liked it here? You’re able to get into more trouble.”
“I was before they amped up security. I practically have someone going into the bathroom with me now.”
“Aw, the poor, poor mafia princess.” He pretended to care.
“You know I don’t like it when you call me that, Lucca.”
“We both know that you do. Otherwise, you wouldn’t act like one.”
It was her turn to change the subject as she went toward the passenger door. “Are you taking me to school or not?”
Lucca moved swiftly, not letting her open the door. “No, I need your help with something.”
She tapped her heel again. “That depends on what it is.”
He gave her a warning look. “You’ll have to keep it a secret.” Or I’ll have to kill you.