“I think Savio is a disingenuous scumbag and he makes my skin crawl,” she says, shooting a glare at his unassuming head.
“Yeah, well, he pays well, so…” I shrug, not sure if I should tell her I feel the same way since I am supposed to be his protector and all.
“Why would he give you up if you’re his best security guy?” she narrows her eyes at me. “I mean, he doesn’t give a damn about me and my sisters. Let’s be real here.”
“He probably realizes he has a lot to lose if anyone gets inside, so having me hang with you girls keeps the empire secure.” I roll my eyes. “Or something like that.”
“Why would anyone come for us? What could hurting us possibly do? Revenge on my father is kind of moot, isn’t it?” she snips. “I mean, they’re gone. Hurting us won’t do anything to my parents.”
“You do know that gangsters don’t really pay close attention to logistics, right? They carry out orders, and sometimes the orders don’t make much sense to anyone other than the bosses who create them.”
“It has to be about money,” she mutters, rubbing her temples. “It’s always money, isn’t it? It just doesn’t make sense, though. I don’t understand how…” Her voice trails off and she kicks at a stone near her foot.
“How what?”
She shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter. All that matters is making sure my sisters are safe.”
“What about you?”
“I can take care of myself. Remember? I like cutting up people.”
“A scalpel isn’t gonna stop the army of evil from busting through your front door, Kristina. You’re a smart girl. Make the smart decision or you risk more loss.”
She cocks an eyebrow. “Is that supposed to be some kind of threat, Massimo?”
I walk up the steps leading back to the funeral home, turning once I’ve reached the stoop. “No. It’s your reality now.”
Chapter Ten
KRISTINA
“Savio is a lowlife bastard. You don’t need a goddamn thing from him!” Uncle Frank bellows a few days after the funeral as we drive to Cold Spring Harbor where my parents’ attorney is located.
“I agree, but that guy Massimo had a point. What if whoever did this isn’t finished with our family? What if they come back to finish the job? They already tried once.” I say that last bit in an exaggerated whisper since I haven’t told the girls about the attack outside the hospital.
No need to freak them out even more than they already are.
I’d mentioned it to my uncle and he told me to keep it to myself, that he’d handle things from now on. Reporting it to the police was out of the question since it would just send the enemy running. He swore up and down that he’d find the people who murdered my parents, that we don’t need any outside help, especially from Savio.
But I came damn close to having my throat slit the other night and at this point, I’m not convinced.
“You have me,” he says in a gruff voice. “I will take care of you girls.”
“Seriously? You’re just going to move in and give up your job to play bodyguard?” I let out a huff. “Look, I get that you want to watch over us, but we need a longer-term solution.”
“I would do anything for you kids,” he says, turning the steering wheel down a quiet, tree-lined street. “If some sicko is gonna come after you, he’ll have to deal with me first.”
“Uncle Frank, that’s sexist,” Maria pipes up. “You’re assuming it’s going to be a man, but the crazy person could be a woman.”
I swallow a chuckle. “And we women are known for being ultra-crazy, right?”
“That’s right,” Sofia says.
“I don’t care what Savio promises. If he’s sending in that tool, there’s a reason why, and I can promise you it’s not your security he’s worried about.”
“I still think it might be a good idea.” We both know that someone is still after me. And that’s why Uncle Frank has been glued to us since we left the hospital the night my parents died. But he’s not a professional. And he’s rash and sloppy.
Or so my dad used to say.
I don’t trust Savio, but something about Massimo was so genuine. I may be naïve for thinking it but he’s not anything like Savio. I get good vibes from him, not the scumbag variety. And it’s not like he pressured me at all into agreeing to this security situation. He just…made me feel more comfortable about it.
About him.
Safety should be my number one priority, but I can’t lie.
Something about Massimo has my knees wobbly and my heart fluttering.
It was the exact same reaction I had when he saved me from face-planting onto the concrete the day of the party.
And if I’m being honest, the sensations still haven’t dissipated. Every time an image of his dark eyes and chiseled jaw floats into my mind, my skin pebbles with goosebumps, and a delicious shiver shoots through me as a reminder of how good it felt to be held, even if it was for a few stolen seconds.
I needed that comfort even if he didn’t realize what he’d provided.
I stare out the window at the gray sky, dark with storm clouds as we near the office.
They seem to be following us everywhere.
There’s no reprieve from the unknown.
My stomach is in knots, wrung out like a wet dishtowel since I woke up this morning.
Aside from everything else I’m dealing with — fear of death and twisted feelings of lust — I’m afraid of what I’ll hear from the lawyer and what it will mean for my medical career.
It’s been a week since the attack, and I’ve spent all of my time trying in vain to make up missed schoolwork in between taking care of my sisters. In a matter of days, I’ve assumed the roles of mother and homemaker, neither of which were a part of my ten-year plan.
I’ve grudgingly come to the conclusion, with the help of my mentor and instructors, that I won’t be able to finish med school from my kitchen table in Long Island.
I’d sent an email to Nick letting him know I wouldn’t be back, not that he called me again to check in after that night at the funeral home.
Scumbag.
I was just a brain and a piece of ass to him.
He couldn’t even be bothered enough to send a sympathy card.
The medical school administration suggested taking the semester off to get things in order at home, that my spot would be held for me because of my past performance.
But really? I’m just going to jet off next semester and leave Maria and Sofia to fend for themselves? My parents would roll over in their graves if I so much as considered it.
My life has fundamentally shifted, and even though I didn’t take one of those bullets, the one that was supposedly intended for me, I kind of feel like I’m dying a slow after-the-fact death.
Submerged in the mafia hell I was so desperate to escape.
Maria is only fourteen, so for at least four more years, I’m grounded in Syosset, my dreams of being a doctor crushed, just like my soul.
It’s been a tough pill to swallow because I didn’t just leave home to flee the criminal underworld I’d been mercilessly dragged into.