Chapter 106

The boys begin their plans, and I almost immediately start to lose track of what they’re talking about. It’s not that they’re deliberately trying to keep me out of it by speaking in codes or anything – I just don’t understand half of the people they’re making reference to, or the places, or the strategies.

After a couple of minutes I loose a long breath, pushing to my feet and picking up my half-drunk mug of coffee.

“Are you all right?” Christian asks, interrupting Nico and turning his eyes up to me, reaching out a hand.

“I’m fine,” I say softly, nodding to him and briefly brushing his fingers with mine. “I’m just not being very useful here – and you know how I like to keep busy.” I lift my chin to the kitchen, where my bags of clothes are still sitting and where there’s much to do.

Christian nods to me, understanding, and pulls his hand back, turning his attention towards Nico. Nico keeps his eyes on me a little longer, watching me curiously as I move to the kitchen and start to get to work. The time passes quickly, then, as I lose myself to some chores, my mind turning the whole time that I do – trying to figure out what just happened, and why Christian is doing what he’s doing, and what my place will be in all of this.

I mean, if this whole time I’ve been fighting for independence, did I just get that? Or…did I get myself more wrapped up, make myself more Christian’s mafia captive than I was before?

But I sigh, knowing that I’ve got no way of knowing right now, and that I can ask Christian my questions later after he’s sorted through some stuff with Nico. So I move into the bedroom, and quickly stash my new stock of silly beach outfits away, changing into a sundress and then pulling a sweatshirt on over it, feeling instantly more comfortable in clothes that fit.

I take some time to brush my hair, quietly wishing for a couple of cosmetics to cover up the bruises all over my face when I look at myself in the mirror. But I shrug, because there’s nothing I can do about that now, is there?

So I just braid my hair back, and nod to myself once in the mirror for courage, and head back into the living room. There, I’m a little surprised to see Christian bent over a desk in the corner – honestly, I hadn’t even really realized it was there – while Nico stands in the kitchen, pouring himself another cup of coffee.

Sensing that Christian wants to be left alone to concentrate on whatever he’s doing, I move into the kitchen and pour some more coffee into my own mug, which is still sitting there. When I turn to lean back against the counter and look up at Nico, I am unsurprised to find that his eyes are already on me.

“Proud of yourself?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow my way, clearly implying that I shouldn’t be.

“Oh, shut up, Nico,” I say, narrowing my eyes, which just makes him smirk. “None of this was my choice, and you know that.”

“We’ve had this talk before,” he sighs, leaning back on the counter. “If you’d made different decisions, then none of this would have been happening.”

“If I’d made different decisions,” I say, raising my own eyebrow at him this time, “then you wouldn’t be the number two in a powerful mafia family, would you? And you seemed to quite like that.”

His smirk deepens as he looks over at Christian. “Possible number two. If he can pull this off. Which he might not.”

“And if he doesn’t?” I ask quietly, letting my worry color my tone.

“Then we’re all dead, Bambi,” he murmurs, taking a long sip from his cup. “You included. Or worse.”

“Worse?” I ask, surprised, looking up at him.

“Use your imagination, kid,” he instructs, a little derisive. “Think: a great deal of pain, followed by death, but you don’t even care if you’re alive at that point.”

“Jeeze,” I say beneath my breath, my eyes going back to Christian. We’re both quiet for a long moment. “Do you think he can pull it off?” I say it so low that I wonder if Nico can even hear me.

But his answer lets me know that he does.

“I’m not in the business of dying, Iris,” he says, so serious that I look back up at him. “If anyone can do it, it’s Christian. But you’re his weakness, and everyone knows it now. You have to…” Nico sighs, looking down at his coffee.

“I have to what?”

“You have to fucking listen to him, and to me, Iris,” he says, returning his eyes to me, looking at me more levelly than he has in a while.

I straighten my shoulders. “All right,” I say, serious too. “But you have to stop blaming me for shit that I didn’t do, and stop telling me to run away and leave.”

“Well, I think that you’re beyond that now,” Nico says quietly as we both look over at Christian, who stands up straight now, folding a piece of paper. “He’s made it very clear that he’s not doing this without you. So. We have to find a new medium.”

“Peace, then?” I ask, my voice hopeful, genuinely wanting it.

“Peace, donna,” he murmurs, nodding to me. I frown as he does, but he doesn’t notice, looking towards Christian, who crosses over to us. Because what is this new nickname? Bambi I’m used to – but what the hell is this new one?

“You all set?” Christian asks Nico, handing him the folded paper and raising a strict eyebrow at him.

“Seriously?” Nico sighs, snapping the paper out of his hand. “This, of all things, is what you want me to do?”

“Yup,” Christian replies, holding his gaze steady.

“What is it?” I ask, looking curiously at the paper that Nico shoves in his pocket. But neither of them answer me.

“When do you think you can be back?” Christian asks, folding his arms.

“If I’m trying to avoid a tail…” Nico murmurs, crossing his arms and giving a little shrug. “Tomorrow night? At the earliest? It’s going to be shit, Chris, they’re going to have their eyes on me.”

“Well, then make sure you finish everything you need to finish and take your time coming back,” Christian replies, crossing his own arms. I look between them, seeing the family resemblance between them more than I have before.

“You got it, boss,” Nico says. And then they both drop their arms, and step closer, and wrap each other in a hug, pounding their hands on each other’s backs in a way that makes me jump a bit. It’s a familial gesture, sure, but not a gentle one. I realize, as they pull apart, that both are anxious and tense.

“See you soon,” Christian says, nodding to Nico as he crosses to the door.

“Yup!” Nico calls back, waving to us. “See you right after I drive halfway across the state to deliver a damn Dear John letter, and then spend hours driving in circles on my way back. Sounds like a great way to spend my first day as your number two, cousin!”

“Have fun!” Christian calls after him, dry, smirking a little as Nico leaves.

My mouth purses a little in curiosity as I look up at Christian, tucking my hands behind my back. “What’s he talking about?” I ask, innocent.

“Hmm?” Chrisitan asks, turning towards me.

“Where’d you send him?” I ask, tilting my head towards the door.

“Like he said,” Christian replies, unable to keep the smirk from his lips. “To deliver a letter.”

“A letter?” I ask, batting my eyelashes a little. “And who is this ‘Dear John,’ to whom you’ve written?”

Christian’s face bursts into a smile, because we both know that I’m very aware that the letter isn’t going to anyone named John. That it is, instead, probably a letter that’s going to piss off Violetta very, very much.

“John is my secret lover,” Christian murmurs, stepping close to me and using his fingertips to tuck a stray hair behind my ear. “I write to him biweekly, and Nico is my little messenger pigeon.”

I gasp dramatically, playing along and stepping closer. “And will that letter break his heart?”

“Who cares,” he murmurs, laughing. And then he startles me a little by snatching me up into his arms and spinning me around in a circle – but I’m over my surprise in an instant, and then I’m laughing too, smiling down into his face.

“Are you happy, Chris?” I ask quietly, desperately wanting him to be. Because as much as I’m worried and confused…if this is what he wants, then I want him to have it.

“I am, Iris,” he replies, holding me up against this chest so that I’m looking down into his face. I lift my hands and brush his hair back out of his face. “What about you?”

“You’re happy I’m happy,” I whisper, smiling down into his face.

“Good,” he whispers, nodding to me once before setting me down on my feet. “Come on. Let’s go for a walk on the beach. Things are about to get busy here – we should take the time to relax while we can.”

Eagerly, I nod, and take his hand. And we move towards the door.