by Bethany-Kris
But Lucia?
Lucia was not the same.
“John, you don’t have to—”
“Yes, I absolutely do,” John interjected, stopping his father from saying anything more. “Lucia trusts me more than anybody, and I know Renzo, his streets, and his people. I will find them. I will call you when I do.”
John hung up the phone without another word. He quickly set the glass he used in the sink, and wiped down the counter.
Just like that, his mind had shifted.
He had a new task.
Things he had to do or wanted to do were shoved out to let the most important problem at the moment take over. That was just how his brain worked.
He shrugged on his jacket over his still-unbuttoned dress shirt as he stepped in the doorway of Siena’s bedroom. She was still sleeping, and quite soundly.
He should have woke her up.
He should have said goodbye.
He didn’t leave his phone number because he figured he would be back that night, or shit, at the most, a couple of days. An explanation later, and everything would be fine. Siena would understand what had happened.
After the night they had, surely she would know he hadn’t just left her high and dry.
He should have left a note.
He should have … done a lot of things differently.
Problem was, his mind simply didn’t work that way. It jumped from thing to thing—this to that—and he either got back to it, or he didn’t. Siena was the same; she couldn’t be any different.
John didn’t realize, or even consider, that the next almost three weeks of his life would be spent chasing after his runaway sister, and her delinquent boyfriend.
A couple of days, he could have explained.
Three weeks?
John knew better.
He fucked that up.
He should have said goodbye.
Hindsight was always twenty-twenty.
SIX
Siena knew she was alone before she even opened her eyes. Maybe because each time she had woken up the night before, Johnathan had been holding her. Or even, pulling her closer, and into him.
Now, nothing held her.
And she was cold because of it.
She was so accustomed to waking up in an empty bed that the feeling should have been comforting. She didn’t mind being alone, usually. It was mostly okay.
On this morning … it wasn’t.
Not at all.
Sure enough, when she opened her eyes and glanced over, she found the space Johnathan had occupied was now nothing but mussed sheets and a forgotten pillow. A pillow with an indent where his head had rested while he slept. For a long while, she just stared at the space, and did nothing. She didn’t know what to do.
She wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, sure, but a small piece of her knew better despite the hope in her heart.
Maybe he hadn’t run off again.
Without an explanation.
For a third damn time.
The sheets still felt warm when she reached over and ran her palm over them. As though maybe he had only gotten up recently, and his heat still remained on the cotton. Another whisper of hope to bury into her heart, but would likely be ripped away all too soon.
She was a realist.
She dealt in black and white.
Still, a part of her held on.
A part of her hoped.
Johnathan’s spicy scent still clung to the blankets … and her. The smell of sex still lingered in the room, too. The feeling of his kiss still lingered on her mouth, and down her body where he’d spent far too much time kissing every single inch of her. As though she was the most beautiful thing to have ever graced his presence, and he needed to show her just how much.
It had definitely happened.
They had happened.
Except where was he?
She sat up straight in the bed, and used the bedsheet to cover her from the chest down. Not that there was anyone around to see her nakedness. Not a sound echoed from outside her bedroom.
Like she needed another fucking reminder.
Something akin to sadness stabbed in her chest when she looked for the clothes Johnathan had shed the night before. Her bedroom floor now only held what remained of her club dress, and the lace panties he had taken off with his teeth. Nothing of his were anywhere to be seen.
Fuck.
The contented thrum echoing through her veins—the kind of satisfaction one could only get from great sex and a hard sleep—should have been enough for Siena. It should have kept the anger and sadness at bay about having to wake up alone.
Still, she felt those things.
Still, she wanted to give him a chance.
Maybe he was still here.
Maybe he was somewhere in the apartment.
Siena got out of the bed, and snagged an over-sized sweater hanging off the dresser. One of her favorites for the colder months. She slipped it over her head, and sunk her arms in the sleeves. Folding her arms over her chest, the coldness slipping over her skin ebbed a bit as the sweater gave her a different kind of homey warmth. She needed everything she could get at the moment.
She didn’t even bother to grab a clean pair of panties as she stepped over her crumpled dress, and forgotten things.
The sweater covered her ass, and that was enough for her to be satisfied. At least for the moment.
“John?” Siena called out.
Nothing and no one answered her back.
The apartment was still empty, although colder than it usually was when she spent time in it alone as she typically did. John was nowhere to be found.
All over again, Siena felt those stabs of anger and sadness.
A heavy sensation settled in her gut.
She’d thought, surely, their conversations and connection was not only felt by her. So why was she alone?
Why was he gone?
He hadn’t left a note.
Nothing with his number.
No way to contact him unless she chose to seek him out again. Siena wasn’t interested in that, not this time.
She found him once.
She would not be doing it again.
This was on him.
Siena Calabrese was not the kind of woman who continued chasing after a man who clearly did not want to be caught. She was not the type.
Who fucking knew if Johnathan was even worth the trouble?
Not her.
And he definitely wasn’t worth the trouble when he pulled shit like this.
Her sadness swelled.
The anger grew flames.
Three strikes and you’re out, John.
Siena went back to bed.
October …
November …
It was only the month of December that time actually began to slow for Siena. Or rather, the week of Christmas. Everyone just … relaxed.
Finally.
It was just too bad that slowing down meant she had to spend more time with her family. It was the price she paid for less work.
Of course, it also reminded her of just how lonely she was considering all she had was the family that didn’t feel very close at all.
She grabbed the rope of fir garland Coraline held out for her, and hung it the way her mother liked along the banister.
“Kind of late getting some of this up, aren’t you?” Siena asked.
Coraline waved it off. “I didn’t have much help.”
Siena frowned. “You could have called me over, Ma.”
“You’re very busy, Siena.”
That was true, too.
“Still …”
Coraline flashed her daughter with a wide, brilliant smile. It was her mother’s best defense, and one of her few distractions. Anything could be made better, or ignored entirely, with a single beautiful smile.
“You’re here now, and the Christmas party will be lovely because of it,” her mother said.
“Sure, it will.”
Siena seriously doubted her mother’s annual Christmas party would be any better or worse despite her presence, but she didn’t argue the point. Whatever kept her mother happy and pleased, or so their father liked to say.
Usually a nice fur coat or diamond was enough to keep Coraline happy.
Or a good party.
“What did you get your father for Christmas?” Coraline asked.
Siena worked on weaving another fir garland through the banister. “A custom-made watch from the jeweler he likes.”
“Is it ready?”
“I have to pick it up in a couple of days,” she said.
“Cutting it close, Siena.”
Like she needed to be told.
Christmas was only five days away now. The jeweler was cutting it terribly close.
“And your brothers?” her mother asked.
Siena gave her mother a look.
Coraline laughed as though she knew without needing to be told. “Money, then?”
“Money,” Siena echoed.
It was the only thing her brothers loved more than their father, after all.
“Oh, you did that wrong … Here, give it to me.” Coraline took the rope of garland, and shooed Siena up a couple of steps with a single wave of her hand. “It has to wrap around the top like this, Siena.”
“Yes, Ma.”
She wasn’t even paying attention.
Everything she had already done, her mother would redo, anyway.
So was her life …
“So, have you been seeing anyone lately?” her mother asked.
Siena instantly said, “No.”
She didn’t consider mentioning Johnathan. She hadn’t spoken to him since that night two months ago when they slept together. He didn’t leave her with a way to contact him, and she left the rest up to him.
The whole three strikes thing, after all. He hadn’t contacted her again, and he didn’t try to seek her out.
Siena figured that spoke for itself.
Despite the way it hurt at first—rejection always hurt—the pain ebbed. She threw herself into work, and forgot the darkly grinning man with his lost hazel gaze.
She clearly hadn’t been anything to him.
Why would she let him be something to her?
If only shit was that easy.
It never was.
“Shame,” Coraline said. “You’re going to be a lonely woman for the rest of your life at the rate you’re going, Siena.”
“Ma.”
“I’m just saying. Why don’t you go check on your father and brothers for me?”
“For what?”
“See if they would like a drink,” her mother suggested.
“They can get their own drinks, Ma.”
Coraline shot her a look. “Not in this house, Siena.”
Great.
“Sure, Ma.”
Men were the kings.
Women were meant to serve them.
Or, that’s what her mother liked to believe.
Siena didn’t wait on her brothers and father outside of this house, but if it gave her a chance to get away from her mother for a minute, she would do it. At least it gave her an excuse not to see every single one of her decorations redone.
The party was still a couple of hours away yet. She wouldn’t be able to blend into the people until the house was full, and her parents stopped looking for her.
Same with her brothers.
“Nothing, you’re sure?” she heard her father say down the hallway.
Siena headed to the kitchen where Matteo was discussing something with her brothers at the table. Like always, Matteo sat at the head of the table while her brothers sat on the right and left sides.
None of them paid her much attention other than a look.
Her father did make sure to say, “Make us coffees, Siena.”
Like she had come in there to do anything else.
“Well?” Matteo asked. “Nothing?”
“Nope, nothing,” Kev replied.
“And the one was definitely …” Matteo trailed off, and then said, “You know what I mean?”
“Yeah,” Kev said. “It was definitely that.”
Siena stayed out of their conversation as she made coffee just the way the three liked. A little bit more milk for her father, an extra sugar for her oldest brother, and all black for Darren. The three continued talking like she wasn’t even there as she stirred the coffees.
“Maybe it’s not a matter of not wanting to, but being unable,” Darren said. “You know, the logistics or shit.”
“Unlikely,” Kev replied. “Just considering how it was, man. Think about it.”
Darren made a noise under his breath. “True.”
“Can we not safely say we have passed the point of perhaps something being in the way? Perhaps it’s more like Kev thinks, and it’s done. We missed our chance to see something come of it.”
Business.
It was always business in their house with the men. They never took a break, and didn’t care who was around to listen.
Business was always the first discussion to have.
She wasn’t surprised considering the Christmas party happening that night. A lot of her father’s men would be there to celebrate. Matteo always got his plans set up before the men gathered, so he didn’t look like a boss out of the loop.
Siena paid attention far more than her father and brothers thought she did.
Someday, it might save her life.
“So maybe something happened,” Matteo added, and then grunted under his breath. “Well, shit. The better question is, can it be fixed?”
“You could … tip the odds to your favor again,” Kev suggested.
“How should I do that?”
“There’s a million ways, specifically one that would mean bringing the main goal close, you know what I mean?”
“This has always been at arm’s length,” her father explained, “and that’s never changed. I don’t think this would change that, either.”
“It might not make a difference at all,” Darren said.
“He’s right,” Kev agreed, “when you consider something preferred is right there to be taken, then anything is possible.”
Silence echoed for a few moments as she walked her father and brothers their coffee. First, serving her father, the head of the house, and then going back for her brothers’ mugs, too. None of them thanked her except for her father.
Matteo touched her wrist with his beefy hand—a gentle stroke that surprised her. “You’re my good girl, huh?”
Today was not the day to piss off her father. For one, because she didn’t want to listen to his nonsense. And for two, because it would seriously displease her mother.
“Yeah, Dad,” she said with a smile.
He liked smiles.
They were the best distraction.
She thanked her mother for that lesson.
Matteo waved her off. “Go help your mother.”
Of course.
Her father went right back to his conversation with his sons, and she was already forgotten. Shame, really.
Despite how festive their home was, how beautiful their family looked, they were really so far apart at the end of the day. People who spent a great deal of time together, but barely liked each other at all.
Even at Christmas time.
It was a lonely way to be.
A lonesome life to live.
Maybe that was why she had gotten so strangely attached to the infamous Johnathan Marcello without barely any effort at all. She had been lonely, and he was easy. Or … close enough to latch onto.
Two months later, and he still seeped into her thoughts like a fucking weed that kept on growing. And why? Because of nothing at all.
She didn’t have any other reason, after all. Her stubbornness reared its head again, and she gave in to the instinct as it kicked her in the heart. She was going to hold true to the three strikes, and Johnathan was out of her life thing.
<
br /> Even if a big part of her still wondered … what if?
What could that have been?
Siena was never going to find out now.
“Give me some time. This will be good for us; we need this.” Matteo laughed, not even giving his sons a chance to reply. “For tonight, though, we enjoy ourselves. Merry Christmas, boys.”
Siena was already heading out of the kitchen while their laughter echoed behind her. Soon, the house would be full of that sound, and clinking wine glasses, and Christmas music.
The place would still be as cold as hell in the morning.
It always was.
SEVEN
“So hey, do you want to talk to me today, or what?” John asked, leaning in the entryway to the living room of his parents’ home.
Lucia didn’t even look away from the flickering TV. “No.”
Her tone came out flat, dry, and dead.
Ouch.
“I tried to call you while you were in California.” John cleared his throat, and then added, “Every couple of weeks, actually.”
“Maybe my phone doesn’t work there.”
“I think it does, Lucia.”
“Then maybe that’s a sign, John.”
Damn.
She was not going to make this easy on him. His kid sister was pissed off at him, and maybe rightfully so. He had been the one to track her down months ago, and bring her home kicking and screaming the whole way.
Business picked up a lot after that, and John was given more responsibility. His boss, and uncle, seemed to think he could handle it, considering everything. Between his therapy once a week, sometimes more, the parole officer he had to keep up with, the public service hours he did every week, and business … John had no time to do anything.
He could barely breathe.
Lucia was home again, though, so he was trying to make time for her. He wanted to fix this rift he made months ago, but she wasn’t having it.
Not at all.
“You’ve been back from California for a couple of weeks, kiddo. I thought—”
Her gaze turned on him—hateful and rage-filled in a blink. Eighteen, young-dumb, and angry. Those were the things he found in his youngest sister’s eyes when she stared at him. It was not something John was used to with Lucia.