by Bethany-Kris
“Uncle Luca came back. I heard Papa say he was lying. There was a lot of yelling.”
“You call him your uncle?”
Cross lifted one shoulder covered by a leather jacket that looked strikingly like one his father would have worn years ago. The children’s Doc Martens on his feet matched the whole vibe. The one thing he didn’t have was the slicked-back hair, but the wild strands of his black hair looked better all crazy anyway.
“He’s my godfather, too,” Luca added. “So ...”
Penny knew.
“And you’re supposed to be my godmother.”
“Yeah, I am,” she admitted quietly.
“Supposed to be,” the boy said again, “because you’re not here. You never were. And even though everybody else knows you, I don’t.”
“You knew me. Just for a short time.”
That didn’t satisfy the boy at all.
“Yeah, well. Not the same.” He sighed hard, glancing through the trees at his house when he said, “I like it out here. I’m not supposed to go past the trees, but ... well, I do what I want.”
Penny laughed under her breath. “We all do.”
“Not like me.”
What did that mean?
“You’re smart, aren’t you?” she asked.
Cross pressed his lips together as he considered that before saying, “Yeah, but not like my papa. Different.”
“How?”
“He’s ... smart-smart, you know? Numbers, and books, and things. All the things. Universe stuff. I see people and just know.”
Penny’s brow dipped. “Know what?”
Cross looked back her way, those soul-deep brown eyes of his piercing and apprehensive and knowing when he replied, “Well, everything, Penny.”
She thought ... no way.
“Really?”
The boy smiled half-heartedly, saying, “It’s a lot sometimes. People lie, I know. When people hurt, I see it. Ma says it makes me special. Papa says ... it is what it is.”
“And what do you think?”
“I think you ask about me because you don’t want me to ask about you.”
And just like that, Penny knew he was telling her the truth.
“I should go,” Penny said, pushing up from the ground and brushing the dirt from her backside at the same time.
Cross glanced her way, frowning openly. “Remember when I said I didn’t know you?”
“Yeah.”
“I did know enough about you. I know you must have loved me before you left and made my ma and papa sad, right? Because you made me something to keep—something I would always have.” Cross shuffled his feet against the dry ground, kicking up some dirt and dead leaves in the process when he muttered, “I mean, nobody makes a song for someone else just because.”
Some did.
Not Penny.
“Of course, I loved you.”
Dark eyes of a five-and-a-half-year-old lifted to meet hers when he asked, “Then why did you leave?”
7.
Luca
SMOKE curled upward from the burning cigarette dangling between Luca’s fingers. He was more interested in finishing his cigarette than fucking with the men currently moving back and forth between the pile of boxes in the alley and the shipping truck where they loaded the packages of illegal cigarettes. In a couple of days, the truckload of cigarettes would make their way across the Canadian border to sell for twenty-five bucks a pop.
A whole truck was easy money.
Besides, he wasn’t there to do the work with the crew of guys. Just overlook their work. He could do that perfectly fine from where he sat on the tailgate.
He wished that was all he was doing, but the voice in his ear—his father talking to him through the Bluetooth while Luca kept an eye on the guys—kept him somewhat engaged. At least today, Zeke wasn’t being a total fucking asshole.
Things were looking up.
Right?
“Good to know you’re keeping busy watching Naz’s guys,” his father said. “I’m sure he appreciates the help, too.”
“He’s ... got other things to handle.”
Not that Luca needed to mention what those things were exactly. Everyone in their circles knew that Naz was still trying to get his house and life settled a little more. Months after Penny moved in and changed everything, and some days weren’t any better than when she first arrived honestly.
His friend didn’t give up, though.
Luca respected that.
“Either way,” Zeke murmured on the call. “I’m proud of you.”
Happy, he thought his father meant to say. Zeke was happy his son was doing what he thought he should have been doing from the moment he graduated high school—handling family business.
Luca didn’t call his father out on the distinction, but he also didn’t have to.
“Despite what you may think,” Zeke continued, “because I do know how you think, for the record. I was you once.”
“Were you, now?”
“Well, not exactly the same. But enough.”
Hmm.
“And,” his father added like the man hadn’t already said enough for Luca to think about you, “I’m only hard on you because no one else is. Something to consider, yeah?”
Was it?
He might have questioned his father a little more on the topic, but the familiar man that rounded the rear of the shipping truck stopped him from saying anything other than, “Gotta get back to work, Dad.”
“All right. Call your mother later—she misses you.”
“Will do.”
Maybe.
If he had the time.
It seemed like Luca didn’t have a lot of that lately, but he wouldn’t apologize for his lack of presence because of it, either. He couldn’t be all the things, all the time. Some shit had to give whether everyone liked it, or not.
He ended the call with his father and stuffed the phone into the pocket of his leather jacket just in time to greet Naz as the man came to stand in front of Luca.
“Working hard or hardly working?” Naz asked, grinning.
Luca pulled the last drag from the cigarette before tossing the butt to the ground without care. The sparks bounced over the asphalt like small fireworks as he smirked back at his friend. “Since when do I have to actually do the work?”
Naz laughed. “Fair point. They keeping straight?”
“Doing fine, man. They don’t give me shit. No trouble.”
“Good. That’s what I wanna hear.”
Even as Naz said that, his gaze followed the group of three guys that came back to the rear of the truck with another armload of boxes. None of the young men—ranging in age from seventeen to twenty-three—passed a second look at the arrival of their actual boss. The boys were accustomed to Naz coming and going at times. If anything, it should prove to the guys that their boss trusted them enough to do what he told them to do, and without issue, when he was comfortable leaving them to work with someone else to oversee their business.
A guy needed a good crew to do that.
Not every Capo had one.
“Nice chunk of change in there,” Luca said, referring to the cartons of illegal cigarettes.
Naz shrugged. “Exactly, change. But shit, it keeps them well paid for the month, and I can’t complain about that. It’s a little job in the grand scheme, but the boys gotta eat, too.”
Right.
“And,” Naz added, his dark gaze coming to settle on his friend sitting on the tailgate, “was that your father I heard you talking to?”
Luca rolled his eyes, pushing off the back of the tailgate to stand at his full height. Next to Naz, the two were about eye level give or take an inch. As kids, he was always shorter than his best friend, and it only added to the whole following along complex that developed over the years for him. Now, it wasn’t so bad. Not that it had ever been a thing for Nazio.
“He’s happy. I’m doing work for you. What can he bitch about?”
&nbs
p; Naz sighed. “Who else is gonna give us trouble, huh?”
He gave Naz a second look.
His friend only shrugged.
Zeke had said something similar, but Luca still didn’t like it. Nor did he think it was particularly right, either. Who was he to say, though?
He didn’t have a kid.
Might never.
Who knew?
Stuffing his hands in the pocket of the hoodie he’d thrown on under the leather jacket, he waited until the guys came back out of the truck and headed for another armload of boxes before saying more to Naz.
“Since when do you show up while I’m looking after the guys, anyway?” Luca asked. “Checking up on me, or—”
Naz chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t even start. You know I don’t worry about you or what you’re doing.”
“Had to ask.”
“Well, don’t.”
“Something is wrong, then,” Luca noted. All it took was his friend’s lifting brow to know he had hit the nail right on the head with that assumption. “What happened?”
“Bullshit, that’s what.”
Luca chuffed under his breath. “That tells me everything.”
“I’m getting around to it.”
“Well, get there faster.”
Naz only rolled his eyes at Luca’s attitude, but that was just their way. Another made man, and he wouldn’t dare talk to the guy the way he did with his friend. But that was the thing ... Naz would always be his best friend first and everything else second. He didn’t know how to switch that shit off, and really, he didn’t want to.
Maybe that was his biggest problem with the family business. He didn’t know how to separate the lines that were so clearly drawn the way other men wanted and needed him to on a regular basis. Men like his father.
Oh, well.
It was what it was.
“Anyway,” Naz muttered, shifting from foot to foot while the guys came back around for another trip inside the truck, “I’ve got a new problem that needs to be handled as soon as possible, so it doesn’t grow into something more.”
“And that problem is ...?”
Naz shot him a look. “Penny’s caseworker. Apparently, the woman decided she should step in on Penny’s therapy sessions by suggesting to the therapist that our home might not be the right place for her. So much so, that she even encouraged the woman to ask about things going on inside or out of the home. Like business. Or rather, anything out of the ordinary. Criminal activity was actually said, apparently.”
That had Luca’s brow rising. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s ... bold.”
“And complete fucking bullshit,” Naz grumbled.
“You know, considering who you are and everything, you guys were lucky to even get guardianship over Penny in the first damn place,” Luca said, wetting his lips to remove what taste remained of the nicotine. “And don’t pretend like you didn’t have to pull some strings just to make that happen, either. I know better.”
Naz lifted one shoulder, unbothered. “And?”
“I’m just saying. Probably should have expected some shit like this might pop up over time. People like us can only get away with so much before it becomes too much, you know what I mean?”
“I don’t need it pointed out.”
“Fair enough. What do you plan to do about this problem? Or ... what do you want me to do about it? Because that’s why you’re here, right? You want me to do something.”
Naz didn’t even try to hide his smile. “You’re not wrong ... we don’t need this problem with the caseworker right now on top of everything else.”
“So, what do you need me to do?”
“Get a leg up on the problem. Get us ahead of it before it turns into something bigger than it already is, and we have to handle that accordingly. I would rather not get to that point, you know? The woman—Penny’s caseworker—is just misguided. She doesn’t know us ... that’s fine, she doesn’t need to. She does need to back off, though. Find something to make that happen for me.”
Luca could do that.
He could find anything.
The only thing he needed to know was ... “Who is the caseworker?”
He could do the rest.
8.
Penny
BY the time Friday rolled around the following week, things had gone well. Or, better than Penny expected, anyway. That said something. Maybe getting her guardian called into the school for a sit-down with the principal wasn’t such a bad thing.
Her teachers laid off. She did make an effort to complete assignments even if a few were a little late. No one complained. As for the other stuff the principal mentioned ... well, she still wasn’t going to pretend like she cared about making friends with the other students or joining in on activities where she had a choice in the matter.
Win some, lose some.
That was life, right?
Besides, the school was the last thing on Penny’s mind as a more important date approached. Roz’s baby shower, that was. It had been on the back of her mind for weeks, and she still hadn’t figured out what to get Roz for the baby ...
Was it silly?
Maybe.
Roz wouldn’t care what Penny bought her for a gift, really. Even she knew that. Still, she wanted to do something ... if not for Roz, then for the baby boy that would soon be someone else in her life to love. Because she did—love him—already, and he wasn’t even born yet. Maybe she cared so much about the baby because Roz had kept Penny informed and included with the pregnancy from almost the second she moved in with her new guardians.
It gave her something to look forward to ... a reason to stick around, even. Not that she ever told Roz that fact. Every doctor’s appointment and ultrasound brought them closer to the day when the baby became real. If that made any sense at all.
Just buying any old thing off the shelf didn’t seem good enough. Not for Penny, anyway. She wanted to do more.
It only seemed fair.
Speaking of the baby ...
While her locker was open and she was changing out her books for one class to what she needed for the next, Penny took a moment to check Roz’s last text. It was a picture of her latest ultrasound. A 3D image, this time. Penny would have gone along to see the baby on the screen in flesh-tone colors with his little face so clear to greet them, but ... she was trying to do better with the whole attendance thing.
Somewhat.
If she wasn’t doing it for herself—because she really didn’t give a shit about this place or the diploma everyone kept saying she needed—then she was trying to do it for Roz and Naz. Hadn’t she already caused them enough shit with the caseworker? No need to give that woman another reason to make a fuss.
Did they want her at school?
Fine.
She was here.
What she did here ... well, that was another matter.
She took a second to enlarge the picture in the text thread, enjoying the sight of the baby’s ultrasound image even if he did look like a funny little demon with oddly shaped skin and red circles where his eyes should be. Roz had warned her that the 3D imaging might be ... funky. But it did give them a better idea of how the baby would look when he was born.
And it did.
Penny texted back, He looks like Naz.
Because he did.
Baby Cross—Roz did settle on that for a name—had the same shaped nose and face as his father. The dark hair on top of his head was clearly visible. She bet when he was born and finally opened his eyes to say hello to the world, they would be the same dark brown-black as his dad’s, too.
I said that, too, Roz replied fast. And he was sucking his thumb. I’ll show you those pictures later. How’s classes today?
Boring, Penny thought. Which was absolutely nothing new. Teachers who encouraged her to join her classmates in group work that she had no plans on doing. Classes that made her want to sleep, but the credits were required to graduate
. And she had gym after her next class which was always a special kind of hell because she refused to wear the same shorts and t-shirt that everyone else did.
Like these asshole teenagers needed another reason to stare at Penny and whisper behind her back. They did that enough without her showing off all her scars and giving them even more reasons to be a bunch of pricks.
Instead of saying the truth, she simply wrote back, Fine. Roz didn’t need to worry. Not today. She was handling baby stuff, and that’s all she should be thinking about. Certainly not Penny.
Was that growth?
To know ... people had lives that didn’t—or shouldn’t, rather—revolve around constantly making sure Penny was doing what she should be when she was more than capable?
She wasn’t sure.
Did it even matter?
The ringing bell overhead took Penny’s attention away from the screen of her phone just long enough for her to roll her eyes. Great. Now she was going to be late to her next class because it was in the next wing over.
Oh, well.
She texted a quick goodbye to Roz, grabbed the last book she needed from her locker, and then stepped back to slam the metal door shut. She was just reaching for the lock to close it when she noticed the guy who had come to lean against the row of lockers. Maybe, had she not been so distracted with her conversation, then she might have noticed him slipping in beside her and could have done something before he surprised her.
Penny hated that.
Specifically, right beside hers.
Caleb was his name.
Caleb Knight.
A stupid, rich, popular fuck that messed with the same girls who made it their first and only job to piss Penny off every chance they could for a straight month after she started attending the private high school. With a spot on the baseball team, the guy earned his ranking in the upper of who was who in the school.
Except she didn’t care.
“Hey, Penny,” Caleb said, grinning. “You busy?”
She arched a brow, not bothering with his attempt at small talk. Because why? It was a waste of her time and his. There was only one reason why this guy approached her, and it was not because he wanted to make friends. The group of kids watching them from twenty feet down the hall like they were waiting for the circus to start said she wasn’t wrong in her assumption, either.