Fall(Romanian Mob Chronicles Book 2)(18)

“You were there, were at risk. Vasile, Sorin, they take that very seriously,” she said, her voice somber.

“Take what seriously?” I asked, curious as to what she meant. Sorin had his own kind of intensity, but he didn’t strike me as the type to get too worked up about much.

“Any risk to what is theirs. They have to respond. Can’t allow that to stand.”

“I’m not theirs. His,” I finally said. But my statement was far too slow for my comfort. I should have rejected it immediately, not let it hang, lingering there like there was some truth in it. Like I wanted there to be truth in it.

“Does he know that?” she asked.

“Of course. This is just… Whatever it is. He doesn’t think of me like that, and I certainly don’t need him…hurting people on my account.”

And I didn’t want that. But even more, I didn’t want to consider the possibility that he might care.

“He wasn’t, not on your account, not entirely. But either way, whether he’d acknowledge it or not, he was responsible for you so he had to respond. He’s clan, his honor demands it.”

I rolled my eyes and then collapsed against the couch. “Honor? Clan? Are you serious?” I said on a short laugh.

I waited for her to join me, but she didn’t, so I looked at her, my laughter fading when I glimpsed her serious expression, no hint of any irony or humor present at all. A shiver raced through me.

“You’re for real about this, Fawn?”

“Deadly. And you should be too, Esther. This is serious, about life, yours and his. You need to understand that.”

I knew Fawn well enough to know that she wasn’t speaking lightly, but I couldn’t quite process it. Sure, the Petran brothers were not like the men I came across every day, but life or death? I wasn’t certain. I shrugged.

“It’s not really. I mean, we’re just messing around. It’s…”

“Nothing?” she said.

I nodded.

“It’s not nothing, Esther. Do you understand?” she asked, deadly serious.

“Yeah,” I said. Fawn kept her eyes locked on mine.

“I do, Fawn. I get it.”

“Good,” she finally said. “You have to go into this with your eyes open.”

“I’m not going into anything,” I said, though my voice lacked conviction. I more than halfway suspected I was already in.

“You are. And if this is some casual thing, you have to understand the stakes, so think about it, okay?”

I nodded and then went quiet, lost in thought, trying to reconcile what I knew, what I’d seen, with how Sorin made me feel. I was coming up short.

“What is it?” Fawn asked a few minutes later.

“I guess… I mean, I’m not a total moron, so I know they,” I waved a hand, “you know. But this is…a lot.” And should have been enough to send me running away. Should have, but it wasn’t, and I didn’t know how I felt about that.

“It is, but it’s not all bad.” Her eyes took on a faraway quality. “It’s very good, great, but you just need to know what it means, being with him.”

“Yeah. This is kinda unreal.”

“And what else?” she said.

I paused, not yet sure if I wanted to articulate what I was thinking.

“What, Esther? Say it.”

“I’m a horrible person,” I said.

“Why do you say that?” she asked.

“When he was doing those things, the look on his face, then the way he looked at me after. I liked it, Fawn. A lot,” I said, voice going lower as I spoke.

Her expression softened with understanding. “And you don’t know how to feel about that?”

“Should I not feel horrible? I’m not into violence. But still…”

Fawn didn’t look surprised or disgusted or any of the other things I might have anticipated, and I sent up a silent thank-you to whatever higher power was responsible for bringing her back into my life. I’d always put up a good front, even before her terrible experiences, but Fawn had always had the power to see things clearly, cut right to the heart of what mattered.

“I won’t lie. It’s tough. They are… What they do… But think about how you feel. Do you trust him?”

“I don’t know, Fawn,” I said. “I don’t know him.”

“You do. Probably better than most.”

“I’ll take your word for it. But that doesn’t matter anyway. What matters is whether I’m going to be a grown-up and not get cock crazy over a mobster.”

She giggled, and I joined in. “Those are not images I needed in my brain, friend.”