Privilege (Renzo + Lucia Book 1)

by Bethany-Kris

He found his sister coming their way with a wide smile, and all he felt in that moment was pride. Rose looked like she was on top of the word with her hair done in soft waves, her face made up in neutral tones of makeup, and a pretty dress that made her look slightly older than her seventeen years.

  Like she’d won the fucking lottery.

  Maybe she had.

  “Look at you,” Renzo said.

  Rose was already kneeling down to hug Diego, but just as quickly, she picked up their little brother and stood to face Renzo. “What about the way I look?”

  Renzo smiled. “Nothing—you look good. Happy. Any news, then?”

  “Well, I passed the practical, the presentation, and I’m pretty sure the verbal, but I have to wait for confirmation.”

  “So, a good night, then?”

  Rose nodded. “A great night, Ren.”

  “Good.”

  He had a million and one other things he wanted to say, too. Like how much his sister deserved this, and that it was no wonder she earned her high marks and praise with how hard she constantly worked. He wanted to tell her that every single piece of art he saw with her name on a small plaque at the bottom made him feel a pride she would never be able to understand. Oh, he was sure she felt that pride, too, but in a different way. She’d made it, after all. He was just getting to watch her benefit from it.

  That was good, too, though.

  Rose’s smile softened as Renzo stayed quiet—he wasn’t the talking type. Not when it came to emotions, and shit like that. Not that his sister seemed to mind. Without a word, she came forward—still holding Diego—and wrapped Renzo in a tight hug. He hugged his sister back.

  “Thanks,” Rose whispered.

  “Yeah, no worries.”

  Then, with a conspiratorial edge to her tone, his sister said, “Care to introduce me to your friend? I saw her waiting with you over here. Pretty sure I saw you holding her hand when you first came in, too.”

  Renzo laughed because fuck, his sister was sly as hell. Letting Rose go from his embrace, he nodded, and turned to Lucia. It was only then that he realized how quiet Lucia had been through the entire exchange.

  Her warm gaze met his, and she smiled in that way. Sweet, and soft. Like she didn’t want to take away from his moment, and she was fine with waiting in the wings until he was done with his siblings. He appreciated that, really.

  “Rose, this is Lucia Marcello,” Renzo said, offering his hand for Lucia to take. She did, and inched closer to his sister. “Lucia, this is Rose.”

  Rose set Diego to his feet on the floor, and put out a hand to shake Lucia’s. Diego bounced at his sister’s heels, and chattered on about all the pictures he had gotten to see while they waited for Rose to be done with her hour. He didn’t seem to mind that no one was talking back to him, though.

  “Nice to meet you, Lucia,” Rose said.

  Lucia nodded. “And you, too. Your abstracts are amazing.”

  A hint of pink tinged Rose’s cheeks. “Thanks.” Then, his sister gave him a look from the side before winking at Lucia, adding, “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever met one of my brother’s girlfriends.”

  Renzo stiffened.

  Lucia blinked, but recovered quickly enough. “Is that what he is, then? My boyfriend? We haven’t really put titles on it.”

  Rose let out a laugh. “He should probably figure that out, then, shouldn’t he?”

  It was not lost on Renzo how the two conversed like he wasn’t standing right there. Even if they were teasing him a little, he didn’t miss the truth to the words, either.

  “Maybe he should,” Lucia returned.

  She said that to his sister, but she grinned at him.

  Fucking woman.

  He liked it, though.

  A lot.

  • • •

  The quiet, dimly lit street didn’t faze Diego a bit as he darted ahead of his brother and Lucia to jump over a large crack in the sidewalk.

  “There’s another,” Lucia called to him.

  Diego pumped a small fist in the air, and then ran forward to jump over that crack, too. This game of his continued on until the bus stop was in sight, and he decided that using the benches as a jungle gym would be more fun.

  Renzo only smiled.

  What else could he do?

  Better for the kid to get his energy out now rather than later. Or, that was Renzo’s opinion, anyway.

  “You’re quiet,” Lucia noted.

  He glanced down at her. She just beamed back up at him as if to deny what she said wasn’t the truth. But it was true—he had been quiet ever since they left the art school’s gallery, and said goodbye to Rose on the street in front of her apartment.

  “Thinking,” Renzo admitted.

  “Do you do that often?”

  He didn’t miss the teasing note in her tone at all.

  “Sometimes, yeah.”

  Lucia glanced down at the sidewalk, saying, “You know, I was just joking about what I said, right? At the gallery with your sister, I mean. There doesn’t have to be any titles on whatever this is, Ren.”

  Yeah, he figured that out.

  Didn’t change the way his mind kept running over it, though.

  Renzo brushed his hand along Lucia’s lower back as they closed in on the bus stop, and their walk slowed. Without a word, he found her hand with his own, and wove their fingers together tightly enough that he knew she wasn’t going anywhere.

  No, he didn’t like titles.

  He wasn’t even sure what this was.

  He still liked it.

  That was going to have to be enough.

  Standing next to the small shelter the bus stop provided, Renzo tugged Lucia into his chest, wrapped his arms around her neck, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Diego was otherwise occupied with seeing if he could manage to jump from one bench to another, so he didn’t seem to be paying them any attention.

  Tipping her head back so those waves of her soft hair fell down around her shoulders, hazel eyes glittered up as they met his. “What was that for?”

  Renzo shrugged. “Felt like doing it.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Don’t overthink it, or anything.”

  Lucia grinned. “I won’t. You’re kind of amazing, you know that, right?”

  Renzo blinked.

  What?

  “How am I—”

  “You just are,” she interjected softly, her hand coming up so that her fingertips could brush along the seam of his lips with a gentle touch that had sparks flying over his nerves. How could a touch do that? He wasn’t sure, but he liked it. “You’re always thinking about them, aren’t you? Diego, and Rose. You get up every day for them, and what they need.”

  “Someone has to do it.”

  “And they love you for it.”

  “I guess so,” Renzo returned. “Nobody else is looking out for them, though. Rose, she can handle herself if she needs to now, but I make sure she’s able to put her focus where it counts.”

  “And Diego?”

  Renzo glanced his little brother’s way, but Diego was still busy with the benches. “Don’t even know who his dad is, you know? Could be anyone within a ten-mile block of where we were living at the time that was willing to give Carmen a room for that night, or supply her habit for a day or two. I was so fucking pissed.”

  Lucia’s fingertips drifted over his clenching jaw. “About what?”

  “That she was pregnant again. I fucking hated him just for being there. Wasn’t even his fault, you know, but I did. I hated him for it. The whole time she was pregnant, it just kept getting worse and worse. Like I was dying inside. She couldn’t even stay clean for his pregnancy like she had for ours. She wasn’t using as bad as what she had before she got pregnant, but it was enough to get her day to day without getting sick.”

  Her hand on his chest clenched into a tight first against his shirt, but Renzo barely even changed his tone as he spoke about something else he didn’t like to talk about.
Maybe he was fucking numb to it now, or he was just broken and couldn’t feel anything at all.

  Who knew what the issue was?

  Not him.

  “I just figured …” Renzo drifted off with a sigh, staring at his little brother again. Diego, who loved him to death and never questioned it. Diego, who was entirely innocent and never asked for anything from anybody. Diego, who never even asked to be here. “I figured he’d be another mouth to feed. I was almost sixteen when he was born. Kind of realized he didn’t have anybody either, and it wasn’t really him I was pissed off at.”

  Lucia let her fingers drift through the longer bits of his hair that had fallen in front of his eyes. “But you love him.”

  “Loved him the second he was born. I was there—outside the room. Fed him first. Stayed up with him the whole night when she first brought him home.”

  Lucia’s brow furrowed. “Where was your mom?”

  “Getting high.”

  Story of my life.

  “And you know,” Renzo said in an exhale, “he didn’t ask for her, either. Just like the rest of us.”

  “Wait … if she was using when she was pregnant, does that mean he was born—”

  Renzo openly frowned as he interjected, “He shook so bad, and cried so loudly. It got better after the first week, but it took another week before he could sleep for even an hour at a time. But he still jerked in his sleep. Scared the fucking hell out of me—I’d stay awake and just watch him because I didn’t know any better. I thought he was going to stop breathing.”

  “Ren.”

  He was stuck staring at his brother, and remembering that first month of life. He hadn’t known anything about babies—not how to feed, change, or care for them at all. But he learned a hell of a lot about love from Diego.

  He figured out it was absolutely possible for him to love something in a world full of things that he hated.

  “Renzo.”

  His gaze drifted back to Lucia’s pretty features. No pity stared back at him, and for that, he was most grateful.

  “She had him in a clinic provided by a shelter she was using. They were already at fucking capacity and overflowing. More women coming in who couldn’t afford a hospital bill.” Renzo let out a dead laugh, so full of bitterness and anger. “It was a shift change when the talk of drawing blood came up, so a nurse mentioned drug screening. All standard. The shift change happened, another nurse came in talking about discharging Carmen and Diego because they needed the bed.”

  Lucia blinked, and understanding dawning on her face. “The blood screening never happened.”

  “He could have died going through withdrawals because she was too selfish to stop using. And fuck, maybe if they’d gotten that screening in, he’d be … somewhere better. Given to a family that could have given him a good life, or—”

  “You’re the best place for him,” Lucia said sharply, making Renzo meet her gaze again. “He wants to be with you.”

  Did that make it the best place for Diego, though?

  Renzo didn’t know, but he wasn’t willing to find out, either. Diego was staying with him until the kid was old enough to take care of himself, and even then, Renzo would be watching his back. Simple as that.

  “It’s not even about you at all, is it?” she asked. “It’s all for them when it comes to you.”

  Renzo smirked up at the inky sky. “There’s no worth in me, Lucia. Why would I get up for me? More important people are waiting.”

  Her smile drifted away, then. Like she was seeing him all over again for the first time, but in a whole new way.

  “Don’t say that,” she murmured. “You have worth. You’re worth something to them.”

  He supposed.

  He’d never really looked at it like that.

  “And me, too,” she added quickly. “You’re worth something to me, too, Renzo.”

  The words were barely out of her mouth before he was kissing her. A fast, hard kiss that he was sure took her breath away because it sure as fuck took his away, too. All he wanted to do was wrap his arms around her, keep her close, and hide this girl away from the rest of the world. She couldn’t possibly be real, right? All the shit he thought he knew about Lucia, she kept blowing right out of the water.

  It was bad for him.

  It was good for him, too.

  Renzo found their kiss was like a familiar dance, now. Teasing lips gliding over his, and a tongue that always needed to seek out just a taste. Her hands fisted into his jacket, and she kept him close even as he forced himself to break away.

  “Lucia, is you gonna come have spaghetti with us?” Diego asked, pushing in between the two like he didn’t know what was going on. He probably didn’t—poor kid. Peering up at them both, Diego smiled. “She is, right?”

  Lucia wet her lips, meeting Renzo’s gaze. “Spaghetti, huh?”

  “Yeah, his favorite.”

  “Mine, too.”

  “You don’t want to miss out, do you?” he asked.

  Strangely, he found himself wishing she would say no as much as he wanted her to say yes. He wished she would say no because no matter what, there was still a part of him that felt like they just didn’t fit. Oil and water at the end of it all. His world was not hers, and her life was not meant for people like him.

  And yet, he needed her to say yes because he wanted her.

  Renzo had never wanted someone before.

  Not like he wanted Lucia Marcello.

  “Definitely not missing out,” she said, leaning up to catch his mouth in a kiss again. “But I’m making the sauce. We’ll stop at a store. They’ll have what I need.”

  Renzo laughed.

  What else could he do?

  “Whatever you want, babe.”

  ELEVEN

  “Kindergarten is gonna be awesome,” Diego crowed, stuffing a whole meatball into his mouth as soon as he finished.

  Lucia pressed her lips together to keep from laughing at the kid. “Oh?”

  Diego nodded, and sauce dripped down from his mouth over his chin. It went right down to the collar of his yellow T-shirt, and made a mess there, too. Not that Diego seemed to mind at all. “Yep!”

  “Jesus.” Renzo chuckled as he reached for napkins that Lucia already had ready for him to take from her outstretched hand. He made quick work of wiping the mess up, but as Lucia suspected, a stain remained on Diego’s shirt. “Well, that’s done with.”

  The kid paid his older brother no mind. He was too busy regaling Lucia with all his stories about kindergarten, how he’d met his teacher, and all the things he was going to get to do next year when he attended. Lucia couldn’t help but notice how Renzo sat quietly through his little brother’s stories. At the small kitchen table—it only had three chairs to fit around it—the three were quite cozy in the tiny kitchen, but she liked that. Usually, she sat at tables so large for family dinners that people had to get up and bring food down to somebody if they wanted something.

  The smell of spices clung to the air. There was no way in hell Lucia was having spaghetti without adding all the secret spices her grandmother used to make the meatballs and sauce something more than just food to put in your mouth. With a little extra love, regular spaghetti became an experience.

  “And how do you feel about that?” Lucia asked.

  It took Renzo a second to realize she’d been talking to him. His head popped up from where he was spinning spaghetti around a fork, and he cocked a brow. “About what?”

  “Him starting school.”

  “Fine,” Renzo replied.

  “Really, just fine?” Lucia passed Diego a look, but the boy was fully concentrating on cutting a meatball in half because he apparently didn’t want to try to shove another whole one in his mouth. “You’re basically his only caregiver. Every day, right?”

  “So?”

  “I mean … moms sometimes get emotional when they send their kids off to school. I just wondered if you might feel a little sad to see him go.”

 
Renzo blinked, and Lucia laughed at the expression that flitted over his features. It was a mix of a lot of things, and nothing she could really put her finger on. At the same time, she thought that surprised expression looked damn good on him. It wasn’t very often Lucia could catch Renzo off guard, but somehow, she had managed to do it tonight.

  “I’m not his mom,” Renzo said.

  “Mom’s gone,” Diego muttered absently before popping a half of a meatball into his mouth. “Right, Ren?”

  A heaviness came to sit directly on Lucia’s chest in that second. When had their mom taken off again? Sure, Renzo didn’t owe Lucia anything when it came to his life. He didn’t have to tell her a damn thing if he didn’t want to. But that wasn’t really the point, either.

  Diego seemed entirely unbothered as he sat next to Lucia at the table, announcing his mother was gone. Just like that—gone. It kind of pissed Lucia off, too. Not at Diego or Renzo, but rather, their mother. What kind of woman just didn’t care about her kids at all? What kind of woman gave birth to kids she had no desire to look after? One that chose drugs time and time again instead of her kids?

  Lucia wasn’t the type to judge. She always tried to find the silver lining in bad situations. Something to paint the blackness of life with a little bit of color. When she found Renzo’s mother drunk, or high—hell, maybe it was both—she thought to help the woman. Because clearly, Carmen had needed help.

  Right then, Lucia only felt a growing resentment and bitterness toward the woman she’d tried to help. Oh, sure, the anger was there, too. But the other bit felt more important, she supposed, because she could empathize with Renzo. She finally got it—really, truly understood—why Renzo spoke with such coldness every time his mother came up in conversation.

  Lucia would never consider speaking about her mother with the same cold detachment Renzo used regarding his mother, but she also knew … it wasn’t at all the same. Her mother had never abandoned her; Jordyn loved her children wholly, and fully. Always their loudest, and first supporter at the beginning and end of each day. All they had ever known was love when it came to their mom, and even their dad.

  Renzo never had that.

  Neither had Diego, or Rose.