Romeo winced over that. Even if Nova’s keen intelligence made them a target for the greed of the mafia, he couldn’t bear to hear him curse something their mother had been so proud of.
“A gift or a curse, it’s what you make of it.” Romeo shook his head as he tried to think of a solution. “So use that big brain of yours to figure a way outta this mess.”
“I already did,” Nova said sadly. “You gotta lose the fight, Rome.” Romeo groaned. “Merda.”
“Give them what they want. Frankie can’t kill you for nothing. You’re my brother.
My fucking heart and Aldo knows that. So lose the fight and retire to Hicksville, have little deputy babies with Conner’s sister and be happy. Tino says you love her.” Romeo couldn’t answer that. He couldn’t voice out loud that he wasn’t so certain Jules would still love him if she knew everything about him.
“It’s not that simple,” Romeo settled on as he turned off the shower. “I don’t think she’d respect me if she knew I threw a fight.”
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“If she loved you back, she would,” Nova argued. “She doesn’t want you to die, does she? Especially for something stupid like pride and integrity.”
“You know, Nova, a lotta people don’t think having integrity is stupid,” Romeo said as he pushed open the shower and reached for the towel on the rack. “Around here, it’s sorta like a way of life.”
“Well, lucky them,” Nova said darkly, his arms folded over his chest while Romeo worked on drying off. “Must be nice to have that luxury.” Romeo walked past him and went into the bedroom. He put on a clean pair of jeans while trying to pretend this wasn’t really happening to him.
Nova followed him into the bedroom and watched him silently for a few minutes before he said, “I really am sorry. If I could change it, I—” Romeo sighed and cut him off, “I know.”
“And I love you,” Nova whispered miserably.
“I know that too.” Romeo walked up to him and wrapped his hand around the back of his neck. He tugged Nova forward to place a kiss on his forehead. “I missed you, Casanova. I’m happy you’re here, even if the circumstances suck.” He patted Nova’s cheek and then walked out of the bedroom. Still sitting on the couch, Tino had moved on from beer and was drinking some sort of amber-colored liquid that reflected the flames from the fireplace, making them dance in bursts of red and gold among the ice cubes.
Romeo fell down on the couch next to him and asked, “Whatcha drinking?”
“Johnnie Walker Black.”
Romeo took the glass out of his hand and sniffed it, pulling a face before he tried a sip. His eyes stung, and he coughed into the glass. “Madonn’,” he wheezed. “It tastes like friggin’ gasoline. This shit’ll kill you, Valentino.”
“Nah,” Tino said with a ghost of a smile that didn’t meet his eyes. “Johnnie’s an old friend; he won’t hurt you.”
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Romeo leaned back against the couch, trying another drink. It burned just as badly the second time, but the fire of it running down to his stomach was a welcome distraction.
He was still working on the whiskey when Nova sat on his other side, reaching behind Romeo to hand Tino a glass of ice. Then Nova leaned forward, grabbed the bottle on the table, and filled his own glass before passing the bottle to Tino.
There wasn’t anything else left to say. All three of them had their demons, and for that one strange moment they weren’t fighting about them. They sat there in the darkness drinking and watching the fire. Nova started smoking, and the smell of it was comforting, maybe because their mother had smoked before she got sick. It reminded Romeo of home, of a time when life wasn’t any more complicated than making sure Nova and Tino were fed and doing their homework after school.
One thing Romeo discovered for sure, Johnnie Walker Black worked much better than walking at making him forget.
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Chapter Fourteen
Jules and Wyatt had made a pact years ago not to fight on their birthday. Once they were old enough to understand their history, they swore not to do anything to upset their father on the anniversary of their mother’s death. Even if he never outwardly showed it, the pain was always etched across her daddy’s handsome face over the glow of birthday candles, and neither of them could bear to do anything to add to the misery.
Even though their father was long gone, they’d never stopped the tradition, and Jules woke up on the morning of May 6 determined to be the best sister possible. She dressed conservatively in a black pantsuit and wore a natural shade of lipstick. Then she put a big, golden clip in her hair because it was her birthday and she didn’t want to look too dowdy. She could only go so far to be the toned-down sister Wyatt secretly wanted.