Kon (Trassato Crime Family Book 2)(55)
The soft purr of a snore floated through the room, and I realized she didn’t expect a response, which only left me wondering what I would have said if she were awake right now.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
My eyes blinked open, my half-asleep brain trying to catch up with everything. My arm hung limply over Carmela’s waist. My mouth felt like cotton, and my back ached like a motherfucker.
I propped up my torso on my elbows, and my gaze collided with Gian’s impassioned glare. Before I could scramble to feet, he was already across the room. Evie stood frozen near the door, her dark eyes wide.
Gian’s fingers curled around my shirt and he jerked me to my feet. “Are you deaf? I asked you a question.”
“Get off of me,” I growled, my hand clamped around his wrist.
“Go fuck yourself.”
His fist smashed into my jaw. I stumbled and my hip rammed into the side of Carmela’s bed.
“Stop it. Stop it. Stop it!” Carmela chanted, her voice rough from sleep. “Don’t fight. Please don’t fight. I asked him to come here, Gian. If you’re going to be mad at someone, be mad at me.”
Gian stalked toward me. “Carmela, this doesn’t concern you.”
“Like hell it doesn’t!” she yelled. “This is my life. I get to call the shots, not you.”
“No. You don’t. Not anymore. You’re incapable of making good decisions. You didn’t fool me. You’ve been sneaking around to meet this piece of shit. I can’t prove it, but I know it. You’re ruining your life for a man who’s using you. He knows you’re vulnerable. He thinks you’re the weak link. He doesn’t care about you. He will never care about you.”
My muscles rattling with anger, I lurched forward and Carmela gripped a chunk of my shirt, trying to hold me back. She didn’t need to. I wouldn’t fight her brother in the hospital while she looked on. She’d been through enough over the past few years, although that didn’t mean I’d let him take another cheap shot at me or spew lies.
I shoved his shoulder. “Back off. You don’t know shit.”
“This is over. Stop fucking with my family!” he shouted, his chest heaving and his fists up, ready to take another swing.
I tugged on the bottom of my shirt and strolled by him, heading to the door. This wasn’t the time or the place to get into this. Carmela didn’t need to see this and neither did Evie.
I paused at the threshold and glanced over my shoulder. “You don’t own me, Gian. You can boss your little fucking soldiers around all you like, barking out orders and playing out some sick superiority fantasy, but I won’t bow down to you or anyone else in your family.”
Gian charged forward, his finger pointed me. “You will not look at my family. You will not talk to my family. You will not think about my family. You got that?”
“Gian,” Evie said, latching onto his shoulder, “this is not the time or the place.”
He shrugged her off. “He’s putting my sister in danger. I’m not going to stand around and let it happen.”
“Put her in danger?” I stared down my nose at him, then cocked an eyebrow. “No, you have our roles reversed. Your piece of shit guard left her alone for over an hour last night, so don’t lecture me on endangering Carmela.”
“You’re lying.”
“Think about it. How else would I have got into this room? You know what’s even more pathetic? He didn’t even bother to peek in the door before he took off this morning. If this is how your soldiers follow your orders, maybe you need to consider another profession, capo,” I drew out the word, mocking his title. “But don’t take my word for it, ask Carlo about his impromptu bathroom meeting last night, or better yet, pick his brain about what he thinks of you marrying a Madigan. While I’m not entirely clear what it means, I’m damn sure it wasn’t flattering to my sister or you.”
I didn’t wait for his response. I’d said enough. There was no way I’d heed his demand and stay away from Carmela. As far as I was concerned, she was mine. Sure, I had dicked around for over a year trying to get my head in the right place before I claimed her. I even tried to find a way out of the arrangement she made with my dad, but I was done denying myself. I wanted Carmela, and the Trassatos would have to pry her out of my cold, dead hands before I’d willingly give her up.
I stomped down the hall, adrenaline rushing through me. With each step, my anger and frustration climbed higher and higher. My fingers itched with the sickening urge to put my fist through the wall over and over until my knuckles were bloody and pain replaced the fear that I was going lose Carmela before I had her.