Page 17 of Blood Lust
“Scar Tissue”—Red Hot Chili Peppers
Though I’d known we only had one night, waking up to an empty cabin the next morning wasn’t high on my list of favorite feelings. For someone who didn’t get attached and emotional, I certainly hated the fact that she was gone. As soon as I was up and showered, I packed up my shit and went to my mom’s cabin to wait for her to be ready to leave.
I couldn’t stay in mine.
She was everywhere.
“I can’t thank you boys enough for coming with me,” Mom said as we loaded all her crap back up into one of Dad’s SUVswe had driven to the signing. Pietro closed the back door, and I helped Mom climb up into the back seat.
“You’re welcome,” I told her as I pressed a kiss to her cheek.
“Well, you sure changed your tune about this weekend,” Mom mused as she gave me an appraising stare.
Allessio snorted.
Leo outright laughed.
Vittorio ratted me out. “That’s because he hooked up with one of your fellow book nerds.”
Mom gasped. “Gabriel Mateo De Luca, you didn’t!”
Glaring, I flipped my brother off and mouthed, “You’ll pay for that.”
He smirked smugly, and I could’ve throttled him.
“I’m not discussing that with you, Mother,” I replied, and after ensuring she was safely inside, I closed the door. Then I turned to Vittorio. “You’re just pissed off because the chick you were chatting up turned you down.”
His gaze widened and his mouth opened, but no words came out. Finally, he snapped it shut. Then he narrowed his gaze. “How did you know about that?”
It was my turn to smirk. “It’s my job to know every-fucking-thing. Remember that.”
Leaving him sputtering, I rounded the vehicle and got in the back seat of the other SUV. Vittorio got in with Mom, Alessio rode with me and Pietro, Leo got in the front seat, and Vittorio’s man drove.
“What time does our flight leave?” I asked Pietro as we pulled out of the resort behind the other vehicle.
“7:27 a.m. tomorrow,” he shot off without a pause.
I nodded, then propped my elbow on the door and absently rubbed my chin as I stared sightlessly at the passing scenery. My mind was too busy replaying the night before to pay attention.
When I ran my tongue over my lower lip, I could swear I still tasted her. It was in my head, because I’d showered and brushed my teeth. Impossible, yet it was like she was burned into every part of me. Every so often, I even thought I smelled her perfume.
Shoving that night into the back recesses of my mind, I concentrated on everything I had waiting on me in Chicago.
The next morning when my plane went airborne, I told myself I was leaving her memory behind in Texas.
If only it were that easy.
Back in my penthouse office, I sorted through my mail. An expensive-feeling envelope without a return address was in the mix. I frowned as I stared at the writing. Something about it was familiar.
“Call a meeting with Bruno. Ensure Vittorio is here as well,” I instructed Pietro as I studied the oversized letter. I would need to be updated by Bruno on the activities that went on while I was gone.
Knowing my mail was carefully screened by my security team, I flipped it over and grabbed the embellished letter opener that had been in my family since Sicily became a province of Italy in 1861. My family was one of the first clans asked by the Roman officials to help in their fight against the dangerous independent criminals in Sicily at the time.
When Mussolini came into power and launched his brutal attack on the mafioso, some of my family fled to America. While technically, here in Chicago, we were the American Mafia orLaCosa Nostra, those of us with strong ties to Sicily still viewed our organization as Sicilian—it was where our roots were.
As I slipped the heavy, textured paper from the envelope, I scanned the print. The corner of my mouth kicked up. It was a wedding invitation. Roman was marrying Tawny. Childhood memories flooded me. Roman and I had been friends when we were young children—before we understood the status divide between our families. Back then, it was Roman, Keenan and Keagan, Vincent, and me. We had been inseparable until I was about twelve. After that, things changed for me, though my friends never knew what had happened.
Tawny was part of my legal team. She’d defended me against an assault charge a couple of years ago. How was that for ironic? And a bit of a conflict of interest for her, now. Especially considering whether he wanted to admit it or not, Roman was indebted to me. I chuckled and tossed the invite onto the island. I wouldn’t be attending, and they knew it, which was probably why there was no return address. They just wanted me to know, and I was happy for them.