by Bethany-Kris
Nobody had the right to judge him for that.
Certainly not her father.
“Lucia,” her father said as she opened the door to the house when he stepped aside, “you’re to stay away from that young man. I’m not asking. I am telling you this. Stay away from him.”
Nope.
Definitely not.
And if she did, it would because she chose to keep her distance. Not because someone had told her to do it.
Simple as that.
• • •
Lucia shifted the messenger bag hanging over her shoulder to ease some of the weight. She was focused on making sure she didn’t trip over the edge of the shelter’s entrance as she came out of the front doors instead of staring straight ahead.
Maybe she should have done that.
It would have prepared her for him.
But probably not.
“Got somewhere to be, princess?”
Lucia’s head snapped up, and she found Renzo leaning against her Lexus. As usual, he looked like bad news standing there in his ripped jeans, combat boots, and a leather jacket thrown over a simple, white T-shirt. Like he didn’t have a fucking care in the world except for the thing he was staring at in that moment.
Her.
A lit cigarette dangled from his fingertips as he blew out a heady cloud of grey smoke, and flashed her a smile that had her insides turning into knots.
Fuck him for doing that to her.
Instead of thinking about the way this guy made her feel—all the good and awful things—she chose to focus on the little boy holding tight to a toy truck as he stood next to his older brother’s side.
“Hey, Diego,” Lucia greeted. “Were you at daycare today?”
Diego smiled widely, and nodded. “I was. You wasn’t there today.”
“I worked in the kitchen today.”
“Oh.” Diego glanced up at Renzo, saying, “Is she gonna come, Ren?”
What?
Renzo patted Diego on the top of his head with a large hand, and passed Lucia a look. “Yet to be determined, buddy. So, are you busy, princess, or what?”
Lucia bristled.
Partly because of the nickname, and partly because she hadn’t seen him since that morning he took off without as much as a goodbye in her direction. Fuck. He hadn’t even looked at her as he left.
Lucia wasn’t going to be any man’s tissue to use and toss away when he was done with her, but especially not this man’s. It didn’t matter how much her stupid heart liked the way he was staring at her, or how those damn butterflies were back to make a mess out of her insides.
Did not matter one bit.
Maybe if she kept telling herself those things, she would start to believe them. God, she was a mess.
Lucia thought she might try for the subtle approach first, and go from there. “What, Ren, you didn’t get what you wanted from me the first time? You need more?”
His gaze darkened as he looked her over, and then narrowed briefly. “You’re pissed at me.”
“You think?”
“Why?”
“You just took off!”
She hadn’t meant for it to come out loud enough to scare off the birds resting along the powerlines, but there she was. Lucia watched the birds scatter into the sky while the man a few feet away just chuckled like she had said something funny.
“Stop laughing at me,” she snapped at him.
Renzo held up both hands, that cigarette of his dangling dangerously from his fingertips. “Sorry, princess.”
“And stop calling me that, too.”
“Kind of fits, doesn’t it?”
Lucia didn’t respond.
Renzo glanced down at his brother, and sighed.
“Listen, I had to be somewhere that morning, and if I hadn’t got up and gone when I did, I would have missed my pick-up time for something I needed to run across the city. I would have been out that cash, and I needed it to pay my sister’s expenses for the rest of the month, okay?”
It took Lucia a second, but she softened her stance. “I could have taken you, if you asked.”
Renzo cleared his throat. “No.”
That was it; that was all.
Just a quiet, simple no.
“But—”
“I handle my business, yeah?” Renzo shrugged a shoulder. “I didn’t think to explain. I just had to handle my shit, and go. I don’t really have to consider other people except myself, and my siblings. So, if you’re expecting something like that from me, then you should also expect to be disappointed occasionally.”
Huh.
The words slipped out of Lucia’s mouth before she could think to stop them. “So, next time maybe explain before you just take off like that?”
A sly, sexy grin spread across Renzo’s features, and his tongue peeked out to wet his lips as he nodded. “I will do that next time.”
“Will you come with us, Lucia?” Diego asked suddenly, reminding her all at once that he was there, too, even if he was such a quiet kid. “Renzo said you would.”
She looked to Renzo. “To where?”
“My sister has a thing,” he said like it wasn’t a big deal. “Figured maybe you’d like to do something—haven’t seen you in a hot minute, you know?”
Lucia smiled.
She couldn’t help it.
“Am I driving, or …?”
Renzo laughed. “I’d rather take the bus, unless that’s going to hurt your sensibilities, princess.”
“Fuck you, Ren.”
“Yeah, maybe later. We’ll see how it goes, you know.”
Ass.
And she liked it.
Entirely too much.
TEN
One seat ahead of Renzo, Diego leaned closer to the window to peer outside. Nothing interested that kid more than people, for whatever reason. Any kind of people. He loved to people watch, but he also enjoyed engaging others. Renzo wasn’t sure what that would mean for Diego’s future, but hopefully something good.
Smiling back at his brother, Diego asked, “Did you see the dog, Ren?”
He hadn’t. He was too busy to be staring out the window between keeping an eye on his brother, and watching Lucia at the same time. Diego looked too happy to tell him he’d missed whatever dog had caught his eye this time.
“Yeah,” Renzo replied, grinning.
Diego went back to the window with a nod. Satisfied for the moment that his younger brother was distracted and fine, Renzo went back to Lucia.
“Almost there,” he murmured to Lucia.
Next to him, she nodded absently. Her attention was on something else entirely, though. The damn phone in her hand that hadn’t stopped buzzing from almost the very second they stepped on the bus. Something was up—Renzo knew it even if she wasn’t saying that was the case. She wasn’t answering the calls or texts, and she’d put the phone on vibrate so now it was only mildly annoying … but it still hadn’t stopped.
Her family, maybe?
She didn’t talk about them a lot, if at all. But he wasn’t so stupid that he didn’t know enough about them to wonder. He was a lot of things, but he didn’t have his head stuck in the sand, either.
Lucia finally looked up to meet his gaze, and she smiled like nothing was wrong in her world. He didn’t know how true that was, but for the moment, he was willing to let her pretend.
“You good?” he asked.
Her pretty hazel eyes lit up like her smile. “Why wouldn’t I be, Ren?”
“Seem distracted, that’s all.”
Lucia shrugged. “No place else I would rather be right now.”
She offered that statement so freely and sweetly that he had no doubt she was telling him the truth. That didn’t mean something still wasn’t going on that he didn’t know about. That was what concerned him.
Renzo really didn’t need to be getting himself in some kind of shit because he got mixed up with the wrong woman. He knew just enough about the Marcellos to know they weren’t the typ
e of people to let things go.
That concerned him.
“You’re not skipping out on anybody?” he asked, testing the waters.
Lucia flashed her teeth in a smile, and laughed. The quiet noise drew the attention of several other people on the bus, including Diego who quickly went back to his window-watching, but Renzo paid them no mind.
He figured right then, he had other shit to focus on. Like figuring out if there was a giant pile of steaming shit coming his way, and deciding whether or not it might be worth it to step in it for this girl.
She’s here with you, isn’t she?
His mind was a killer sometimes. Always reminding him of things he would rather leave to the wayside until he worked something out for himself.
That was a good point, though.
Lucia was there with him which meant, even if she was blowing someone else off, or her family wasn’t happy … she was right where she wanted to be. That thought just made his chest tight in ways he couldn’t explain.
“Well?” he pressed when he realized she hadn’t answered him. “Did you skip out on plans with someone else for this?”
Lucia shrugged. “Not really.”
Great.
“Not really isn’t a no, Lucia,” Renzo said, chuckling.
She gave him a look from the side, and just shook her head. “There wasn’t anything specific going on tonight with my family or friends, so no, I didn’t skip out on anybody. And even if I had, so what? Plans change all the time, right?”
It was that exact moment that her phone decided to start buzzing again in her hand. Renzo didn’t miss the way her gaze dropped to check the screen, or how she was quick to reject the call with a simple wipe of her finger along the red phone icon that came up. She wasn’t quite fast enough that he didn’t catch whose name was on the screen, though.
Daddy, it read.
Damn.
“Lucian is your father, right?” Renzo asked quietly.
Lucia’s head snapped back up fast. “What?”
“That’s your dad’s name. Lucian, right?”
“I was named after him, actually.”
Renzo nodded. “I figured that’s where the Lucia came from.”
“Do you know my dad?”
Who didn’t?
“I know of him,” Renzo offered.
Which wasn’t a lie. Any person who worked the streets under the Marcello organization, be it an errand runner, a drug dealer, a loan shark, or fucking muscle making sure everybody stayed in line and within their territory knew who the Marcellos were, and the people controlling the family.
It took Renzo a couple of years before he truly understood what the Marcellos were—not just powerful, rich people with a tendency for crime, but mafia. He heard the whispers, and as the saying went, there was always a grain of truth in every rumor. That alone was enough to tell him to be careful where the Marcellos were concerned.
Simple as that.
He did his job, and stayed off their radar at the same time. That allowed him to get on just fine, and kept them far away from his business. He dealt their drugs, managed his guys, never stole a dime, and always got paid on time. That was how he did business, and kept the people supplying him on their own side of the city.
Renzo wasn’t out here wanting more. This was good enough for him. He didn’t need any kind of trouble.
Lucia smiled slightly, and looked away at the same time. “I think knowing of my father, and really knowing the man might be two entirely different things.”
Renzo agreed.
Partially.
“I think,” he countered, “that the man I would get to know, if put in his path, is not the same man you know. To be fair.”
“That could be t—”
Lucia’s words were cut off by the buzzing of her phone. Again. This time, she wasn’t as quick to reject the call, and Renzo saw that, once again, her father’s contact lit up the screen.
Well, then …
“They’re not going to send the dogs out looking for us,” Renzo said, only half-joking, “right?”
There.
He asked.
What more could he do?
Lucia’s teeth abused her bottom lip as she flipped her phone over and over in her hands for a moment. Then, she pressed the button on the side until the phone blinked out entirely before she shoved it into her purse at her feet.
Her gaze turned on him again, and he was struck silent by the intensity he found staring back from her. “I want to be here, Ren.”
It sounded simple.
True.
“I know,” he returned easily.
“It’s other people who might not want me to be doing this. They also don’t get a say.”
Well, that was a matter of opinion. He really didn’t need that kind of trouble, either. At the same time, he liked Lucia right where she was, too—at the moment, that meant she was with him.
“We’re almost there,” he said, changing the subject entirely.
Renzo would deal with whatever this was another time. If her family—or her father—had an issue with him, then he would just have to deal with it when the time came. If it ever even did come, he supposed.
Who knew if it would?
Lucia picked up on his desire to drop the conversation, and peered out the window. “One more stop, actually.”
Renzo smirked. “You know exactly which school my sister is in, don’t you?”
She shrugged and winked.
“You did say a private school for the arts in Brooklyn. There’s only one of those. I have a friend who attended but graduated last year. This time of year is when they do their annual gallery and shows. It draws quite a crowd. People trying to get a glimpse at the next great artist.”
Renzo made a noise that came out like a dark scoff. “Mmm, who they won’t give a shit about until they’ve worked themselves to the bone, are left poor, and are dead in the ground. Only then will they care to spend way too much money for things like paint on a canvas that makes a pretty picture.”
Lucia gave him a look.
“What?” he asked. “Where is the lie?”
“There isn’t a lie,” she murmured, “but there is more to art than just being an artist. None of that matters, though. Don’t tell your sister what you just told me, Renzo. Why crush her dreams because you’re a realist with a bitter streak, and she just wants to make beautiful things for people to enjoy?”
Huh.
“Yeah,” Renzo said quietly, turning back to keep an eye on Diego again. “You’re right. I won’t.”
• • •
Diego bounced on the balls of his feet as Rose finished chatting with one of her instructors twenty feet away. Renzo had to practically grab Diego by the back of his jacket just to keep the boy from running to his sister.
“Wait a second, now,” Renzo said.
Lucia laughed. “He’s excited.”
“Yeah, he always is whenever he comes to see Rose.”
Diego loved his sister like nobody knew. A lot like the way he loved Renzo, too. It was sweet, in a child-like kind of way.
Right now, though, they couldn’t interrupt Rose’s time. They were lucky enough to get an invitation to the event to see their sister’s work hanging on the gallery walls, but they weren’t supposed to drag Rose away from the people who had come in to judge the different pieces of art. At least, not until she was finished with her hour of being the speaker on the floor.
That hour was almost up, but she still had a minute or so to go.
“Did you see that abstract painting of hers in the far room?” Lucia asked.
Renzo glanced over at her, but found she was staring in the direction she spoke about. “I did see it.”
“It was amazing, Ren.”
“Yeah, Rose has always been pretty talented when you give her something to color on.”
Her head snapped around, and she gave him a look. “Come on, this is a bit more than just coloring on paper.”
/> He chuckled, and shrugged. “She’s always going to be the little sister I used to steal crayons and paper for, so she could draw something pretty just to tape it up on whatever wall we could find, you know?”
Lucia quieted then, and nodded. Renzo hadn’t really realized how easily he offered that information about his life, and his sister, but it was out there now. It wasn’t like he could take it back, or anything.
He wasn’t sure he wanted to, either.
“She must be so grateful for all of this,” Lucia noted, peering around the gallery.
“She stopped saying thank you a few months back.”
Lucia cocked a brow.
Renzo shrugged. “To be fair, I told her that if she didn’t stop thanking me, I was going to stop bringing her money.”
That wasn’t a lie, either.
Lucia let out a sigh. “That’s awful, Ren.”
“What’s awful is her thinking she doesn’t deserve this, Lucia. Or that the only reason she’s here is because I pay her lodging and other expenses. Truth is, she’s here because she deserves to be here, and she worked hard to get noticed. She got the scholarship—I just made it work.”
And he didn’t want to be thanked for that because if he didn’t do it for Rose, who would? Certainly not their mother who, half of the time, didn’t even live in their reality. And it certainly wouldn’t be their useless, deadbeat of a father.
Fuck up might be a better term.
Nonetheless, it was still true. Neither of their parents had ever shown even an ounce of interest, appreciation, or otherwise for Rose’s accomplishments. In fact, their mother had the audacity to ask Renzo if he could pay three thousand a month for Rose, then why couldn’t he spot her money every once in a while, too.
As for their father?
Shit, Rose was attending the private school for a good year before that asshole even knew about it. Total fuck up.
“Rose!”
Diego’s shout brought Renzo back from his bitter thoughts quickly enough. Which was fine with him because he didn’t want or need to be spending any more emotional energy on his deadbeat parents than he already did on a daily fucking basis.