Chapter 63

“This is the opposite of what I wanted,” Christian growls towards Nico, giving me a little glare out of the corner of his eye.

“I know,” Nico replies, nodding a long with him. “But,” he shrugs, “it’s done. People know Bambi now – know of her, at least. And unless you want to say she died in that shooting, people are going to notice that she got pulled out of the bar the moment this war started. I hate to say it but…”

“But the safest place for our little Bambi is actually back in the line of fire,” Frankie says with a sigh.

“Wait, why!?” I ask, appalled and confused.

“Because,” Christian says, spelling it out for me, “at the bar you’re a pretty face amongst pretty faces, someone who doesn’t have the privilege or the connections to just quit when the war starts. If you pulled out now, disappeared off the face of the earth?”

I stare at him, not getting it. Why not? Why can’t I just quit?

“People would know,” Nico finishes for him, taking a sip of his beer. “People are looking right now, Iris, for a connection of the Romano family. A pretty girl who is protected. If you disappear from Lupa now? People would put it together, figure out you’re that protected girl. And then they’ve got a face to go with a reputation. The search will narrow.”

I look between the three big tough mafiosos, kind of horrified at this. I mean, I just wanted to leave the house – I’m just basically a waitress…

If I’d known that I was going to be in a gunfight within my first month of work, and then putting myself in the line of fire in a war to keep my identity a secret…would I still have taken the job?

“I kind of like the pretend she died in the gun fight idea,” Christian says, considering me.

I scowl at the idea, reaching out to smack him on the shoulder. “Don’t even think that – that’s bad luck. Or karma. Or something.”

Christian smirks at me because he knows I’m dead serious. I’ve always been superstitious. And as he smiles at me, my stomach fills with butterflies – because there he is again, my friend who knows me body and soul.

“Won’t work anyway,” Frankie says with a sigh. “Lucy knows her now, and Tony met her this afternoon. Lucy will notice if she stops coming to work, and Tony’s clever enough to put the pieces together.”

“Tony met her!?” Christian sputters out, appalled, “why the hell did you introduce her to Tony!?”

“I didn’t introduce her!” Frankie protests, standing straight and throwing out a hand, “she got out of the car and wandered over when we were dropping off Lucy!”

Christian looks over at me, aghast, and I just stare around with wide eyes. “Well, everyone else was getting out of the car!” I protest. “And no one told me not to!”

“You always stay in the car!” the three shout at me in unison, making me jump.

“Fine, fine!” I say, putting up my hands at the onslaught of mafia-boy shouting. “This one’s my bad! I’m sorry, I didn’t know!”

Christian sighs deeply, looking down at his beer like he’s trying to figure it out, put all the pieces together in a way where this works out for everyone, where we all survive and live happily ever after. But from the stressed lines on his face…I can tell that it’s not looking easy. Or possible, at all.

“Okay,” I say, my voice meek and afraid as I look down at my hands wrapped around my cold beer bottle. “I’ll…I’ll do whatever you say, Christian.”

“Where was this attitude three weeks ago?” he asks, dry.

But that just pisses me off, and I raise my eyes to glare at him.

To my surprise – and a little bit of pleasure, I admit – this just makes him laugh. “There she is,” he says, smirking and shaking his head, “meek one second, defiant the next. You think you’re all obedient, Iris. But you’re really just a pain in my ass.”

I laugh with everyone else, but inside my heart sinks to hear him say that. Is that all I am to him anymore? A pain in his ass?

God, but I thought I was more than that.

The boys continue to talk for a while about logistics and their plans, but I admit that I let my mind wander a little, processing my day. I mean, it was kind of horrible, wasn’t it? First getting sexually harassed at work, then nearly being in a gun fight, then watching one of my best friends kill two people, to top it off by coming home and having my oldest friend casually mention that I’m a pain in his ass?

God, what even is my life right now? Suddenly I miss Emi with a great deal of intensity, miss school, miss my brother, even though our relationship is mostly me taking care of him these days. I just miss my old life, where I felt…I don’t know. Safe. Human. Like myself.

“Hey,” Christian’s voice is soft, stirring me out of my absent reverie. When I look up into his blue eyes, blinking, I’m surprised by the silence in the room. When I look around I’m even further surprised to see that we’re…we’re all alone. “Where’d you go, Iris?”

“Where’s Frankie?” I murmur, looking for him.

“Not Nico?” Christian asks, joking.

I huff a laugh and turn my eyes back to Christian’s. “Never Nico,” I say, my voice dry.

Christian smirks, studying me, and I feel tempted to smile when I see the casual way he leans against the counter, at ease – like he was those first couple of days when I came to the penthouse, when things were…good between us.

God, where did those go?

“Don’t be so hard on Nico,” Christian says softly, studying my face. “He’s got his own demons. He’s not so bad. And he cares, in his own way.”

“All right,” I say, glancing down and away from him.

“Well, that was easy,” Christian murmurs, and I don’t look back up at him, suddenly exhausted by all of this. “Usually you give me a fight on something like that.”

I don’t say anything, just looking at the floor.

“Iris,” Christian says, slipping off his stool and stepping towards me now, taking my chin in his hand and lifting my face to look at him. “What’s wrong? Are you all right? Did today freak you out or something? Did you – are you in shock?”

“Am I really just a pain in your ass, Christian?” My question is hardly louder than a whisper.

He goes still for a second, staring down into my face, and then something in him shifts – turns, breaks, like he can’t help it, and if he could have he would. But then he groans, and steps closer, and wraps his arms around me, sliding me gently from the stool so that I’m standing before him and he can hold me properly, so that my face is tucked against his chest. Slowly, he rocks me back and forth.

“You watched two people die today,” he murmurs, tucking his head down against my hair, “and that’s what’s got you all upset? I was joking, Iris –“

“But you weren’t though,” I say, sniffing a little, working hard against tears. And it’s not just that he called me that – it’s everything in the day that’s threatening to make me cry. But still. I have to admit – that’s the piece that’s really sticking in my heart.

“All right,” Christian says, laughing a little and pulling away so he can lift my face again, making me look up at him even as he keeps his other arm warm around me, even as our bodies are pressed together. “You sometimes are a pain in my ass, Iris, but it doesn’t mean I don’t want you there.”

I quirk my eyebrow at him, letting him know that his metaphors are getting a little mixed, which just makes him laugh.

“Please, Iris,” he murmurs, smiling down at me. “Don’t ever think I regret helping you. That I don’t want you here.”

“But do you, Christian!?” I say, bursting out with it, my eyes going wide and pleading. “Because you certainly don’t act like it –“

“I do too!” he protests. “I give you everything you want – you wanted to get out, I let you go out! You have a beautiful penthouse, you do whatever you want –“

“Christian,” I groan, letting my head fall back on my neck and closing my eyes. “You know that’s not what I’m talking about.”

Christian goes very, very still.