45

Alex
It’s the longest fucking plane trip in the history of the universe. Or maybe just the most miserable. Jenna won’t talk. She’s not giving me the silent treatment-no, she’s quite polite. But there’s no friendly chatter. No making conversation.
And she definitely doesn’t want to be touched. She skitters away from me every time I lay a hand on her waist or touch her hand.
My stomach churns on the flight home, trying to figure out what I missed. Is Jenna really afraid of her father? I don’t think so. But what, then?
We finally land in O’Hare and Don G, himself, picks us up. He acts like he didn’t just bust my balls and slaps me on the back, thanking me for bringing his baby home.
I’m relieved to see Jenna’s affectionate with him, and he with her, so nothing seems amiss there.
“Well, I’ll just get a cab,” I tell Don G.
“You sure? I got no problem taking you home.”
“Yeah, I’m sure.” I cut my glance to Jenna. She’s sick of me trailing her by now, and could probably use some space.
Oddly, she doesn’t looked relieved.
In fact, she looks like she wants to cry. I touch her elbow. “Hey. Take care of yourself, okay?”
She blinks rapidly on her way in for a hug. “You too.” She sounds choked up.
Her dad takes her bag and puts his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against him as they walk away. For some reason, I feel like I’m bleeding out of a giant, gutting wound.
And that’s when it hits me like a bullet between the eyes-Jenna’s heart was in play.
And I fucking crushed it.
I’m so sick I want to throw up. Somehow my feet still move me to the line of cabs and I make it home, where I throw myself on the bed and stare at the ceiling.
I’m tired and jet-lagged and I can’t even trust my own head. All I know is what’s in my gut, which feels like a knife twisting and spinning.
Did I read the signs right? Does Jenna care about me? If so, what I did was unconscionable. I took the girl’s virginity and walked away, for Christ’s sake. What must she think about me?
But what fucking choice did I have? Don Giuseppe told me to keep my hands off her. If he finds out what I’ve done, there’ll be hell to pay.
Since sleep seems impossible, I get up and stagger to the bathroom to splash water on my face. I can’t stand the guy I see looking back at me in the mirror. The guy who hurt Jenna Pachino.
How could I?
And I have no fucking clue how to fix this. Truthfully, she’s better off without me. I don’t want her to live a life like my mom, always afraid of losing the man she loves. It’s not fair to her. She should have her chance to get out of La Cosa Nostra.
So just letting the cards lie seems like the best option, if I truly care for her.
Why then, do I still feel like someone’s screwing a giant bolt right through the center of me?
Jenna
Three days and I still can’t stop moping around the house. I won’t even let my mom coax me out for retail therapy. She’s in my bedroom for the umpteenth time, trying to get me to talk.
“Baby, please. Tell me what’s wrong. Did something happen to you in Spain? Something bad?”
I shake my head. “No, Mom. I just didn’t want to come back. I want some time alone.”
Downstairs I hear the sound of masculine voices. I don’t even realize my instantaneous reaction of going still, listening for the deep familiar baritone. But it’s not him. It’s not Alex.
Unfortunately, my interest wasn’t missed. My mom gives me a penetrating look. “Something happened with Alex.” She says it like a statement, not a question.
My flush gives me away.
She scoots closer to me on the bed. “Did you and he…?”
I swallow and nod.
Her mouth drops open. Then she draws herself up, squares her shoulders. “Well, where is he, then? He hasn’t called or stopped by-”
“Dad forbade him to touch me.” I don’t know why I’m defending him. I had all the same thoughts as my mother. I just can’t stand to have anyone think anything bad about-Christ, it’s true-the man I love.
My mother’s lips press together. “That’s ridiculous,” she says primly.
“And he’s just Dad’s puppet, I guess. So that’s that.”
My mother mutters something in Italian, then stands up and folds her arms across her chest. “No,” she says. “Your father doesn’t get to decide this for you. Not after he hamstrung you all these years with that farce of a marriage contract. No, he gets absolutely no say in who his daughter dates or doesn’t date.”
I’m not sure whether to throw up or hug her. “What do you mean, farce of a marriage contract?” Because it sure as hell felt real to me.
My mother makes a scoffing sound. “I knew he would never make you go through with it in the end. It was to keep pressure on the Tacones-it wasn’t real.”
The stone in my stomach grows heavier. “It was real. My whole life you told me I had to marry him. Why would you say that if it wasn’t real?”
Suddenly, unexpectedly, my mother bursts into tears.
I stand up, bewildered. She throws her arms around my neck and hugs me tight. “Oh, Jenna. I’m so sorry. It was so wrong, so unfair. I couldn’t get your father to end it. He let it go way too far. Until we lost you.”
I pat her back, holding back my own tears. Of course my mother suffered as much as I did. She’s dedicated her life to me. I’m her only child.
“Jenna!” Alex’s voice booms from downstairs. “Jenna?” He repeats my name, but it’s closer now, like he’s coming up here.
My mom hurriedly pulls away from me and we stare at each other.
“What the fuck is going on?” My dad sounds pissed.
“I need to talk to Jenna.” Alex is right outside my door now.
I throw it open. Alex looks terrible-dark circles under his eyes, his hair unkempt, like he’s been shoving his fingers through it.
“Anything you need to say to her, you can say to me first.” My dad’s right behind Alex.
Alex’s lips tighten. He stops and pivots to face my father. “Okay.” He drags out the second syllable. “Don Giuseppe. I love your daughter-always have. And I think she cares about me, too.”
My dad’s eyes narrow.
I’m frozen, my legs rooted where I stand.
“My daughter’s not dating a soldier,” my father says flatly.
“I agree,” Alex says.
I can’t breathe.
“That’s why I’m going into investing. See, there’s this great fashion styling plan your daughter came up with, and I’d like to fund it.”
“Alex,” I croak, forcing my body to move forward. I fall into his arms, my cheek pressing up against his hard muscled chest.
“You let them go,” my mother demands, poking my father in the chest. “Both of them. Set them free from La Cosa Nostra. I don’t want my grandchildren living this way.”
My father’s breathing hard through his nose, so heavy I start to worry he’s having a heart attack. I wouldn’t be surprised if the cigars and bourbon finally did him in. He lifts a finger and points it at Alex.
Alex doesn’t flinch. I’m not surprised, because he is a badass in his own right now, too, but it still takes palle.
“You ever hurt her, you cheat on her, I’ll cut your motherfucking balls off.” My dad sounds so mean, it takes us all a moment to realize he’s just conceded.
“Dad,” I choke, tears spearing my eyes. I leave Alex’s arms to hug him. “I love you,” I say to his collar as he squeezes me tight.
“Go on,” he grouches, pushing me back in Alex’s direction.
“Lo prometto,” Alex vows, his face as serious as I’ve ever seen it. He and my father shake hands and my father pulls him in for double cheek kisses.
“Go on,” he repeats, slapping Alex’s back.
Alex takes my hand. “Come on, baby.” He leads me down the stairs.
I’m wearing yoga pants and a thin t-shirt, and no makeup. “Where are we going?”
“I don’t know. Anywhere you wanna go,” he says, leading me out the front door. We get to his car and he pushes me up against the door, slamming his lips down on mine. The kiss has traces of desperation-desire so demanding I’m sure he’ll devour me.
When he breaks it off, his eyes are haunted. “Is this what you want? Or did you just get pushed into another future you didn’t choose for yourself?”
My lashes moisten. “It’s what I want, stupid.”
Alex captures the back of my head, his tongue sweeping into my mouth. “Careful, bambina,” he says when he pulls back. “Or Daddy’s going to spank that delicious ass of yours.” He claims my mouth again, lips twisting over mine.
“I’m counting on it,” I murmur.