Dishonorable

by Natasha Knight

  “Where did Damon take you?” Sofia asked.

  I didn’t hear Lina’s response as they disappeared ahead of us, but I did study my brother, saw how his eyes followed them, how they narrowed as they tracked Lina.

  “She’s a little young, isn’t she?” I asked, meaning it to be a joke but realizing he took it as more of a taunt the moment I saw his face.

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “Just that she’s young. Sixteen, right?”

  “So first you accuse me of being—what was the word you used? Cozy? Yes, cozy with Sofia, and now it’s something else with her sister?”

  I grinned. “I thought you’d be better at masking your emotions by now, brother.”

  “Fuck you, Raphael.”

  “What is happening to the clergy these days?” I said, walking into the house and toward the kitchen, stopping at the door. “Are you coming? You wanted to work on the chapel. I mean, it’s why you’re here, right? There’s no other reason.”

  Damon’s face grew red, and he fisted his hands at his sides. But he kept his mouth shut. We grabbed some bottles of water, left through the back door, and headed to the chapel. We walked over a mile in silence. I didn’t care. Didn’t give a single fuck. I’d hit a nerve, which with my twin was almost impossible to do.

  Damon and I worked in silence for the first few hours, and the more time that passed, the more I thought about how he’d taken my comment. About how if there were some truth behind it, it would have heavy consequences for my brother.

  I glanced over at him. He’d taken off his shirt and was lifting broken blocks of stone to carry outside.

  “Damon,” I said, wiping my forehead with my discarded shirt. “It’s hot. We should take a break.”

  “You go if you need to. I need to keep working.”

  “Why? It’s been sitting like this for years. Now you’re in a rush?”

  “I just need to work, Raphael. Go back to the house. I don’t need you here.”

  He didn’t look at me once while he worked. I leaned against the wall and drank from my bottle of water, which was warm by now.

  “Tell me what happened,” I said.

  He stopped, his back tensing either from my question or the weight of the stone he carried.

  “Nothing,” he said with a glance over his shoulder. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He walked out of the church, and I heard the stone crash against the pile we’d already made.

  I chuckled. For all his talk, my brother needed help being honest with himself.

  “Well, if you don’t know what I’m talking about, how can it be nothing?” I asked when he returned, taking another sip of water. “Warm as piss.”

  He stopped, his eyes darkening. “You’re in a church. Watch your mouth.”

  I held up both hands in mock surrender. “Didn’t know you cared that much, considering.”

  “What the fuck is your problem?” he asked, suddenly in my face.

  “Whoa, brother. Who’s got to watch his mouth now?”

  “If you’re trying to goad me into a fight—”

  “I’m just asking you a question,” I said, leaning into his space. We were equal in height and similar in build. I hadn’t fought him since he was a kid. I would if had to. Hell, maybe it’d feel good.

  “Well, don’t.”

  “You’re my brother. I’m just watching out for you.”

  He gritted his teeth. “I don’t need watching. And I never asked you to protect me. Not once. You just did it. You took it.”

  “What the fuck are you talking—”

  He swung his fist so fast, I almost didn’t see it coming. But prison had perfected my fighting skills. I caught his arm, stopping the collision with my face.

  “I said watch your mouth. You’re in a holy place!”

  “Does a holy man have any business looking at a sixteen-year-old girl?”

  Damon’s hand closed around my throat, and he shoved me hard against the church wall. I chuckled. “Where’d you learn that move? They teach you to fight in that seminary?”

  “Stop.”

  “What, Damon? Am I getting under your skin?”

  “I saw your fingerprints around Sofia’s throat, brother.”

  My mouth turned into a hard line, and this time, it was Damon who grinned.

  “What is she, half your size? Learn that from dad after all?”

  My breathing came tight, my chest heaving with each breath. I guess he knew how to get under my skin too.

  “What’s the matter? Too much truth for you?” he asked.

  Fuck. He sounded like me. Exactly like me.

  I shoved his arm off me and knocked my fist into his jaw. Damon stumbled backward, almost tripping into a pew, but righted himself fast and came at me, arm raised to strike me back.

  “Yeah, that’s better. Hit me. I can take it, and I can give it back. You don’t fucking hit someone half your fucking size,” he said, his fist colliding with the side of my face.

  I shoved him backward, this time smashing him into the wall and grabbing him by the throat. “I don’t fucking hit her. I’ve never fucking hit her. I would never—”

  “And those bruises, did she put them there herself?”

  I drew my arm back again, so angry, so fucking angry all I saw was red. Damon’s eyes moved over my shoulder. I hadn’t even heard her come, but all of a sudden, Sofia’s hands wrapped around my arm, and she used all her weight to keep me from knocking Damon out.

  “Stop!” she cried out. “What are you doing?”

  “Tell him I don’t hit you.”

  “What?”

  “Fucking tell him.”

  “Get off him, Raphael!”

  “Get away, Sofia!” Damon ordered.

  He’d managed to pull my arm off his throat.

  “You’ll get hurt.”

  “No,” she said pulling me back, forcing me away from my brother.

  “Tell him,” I said, my gaze still locked on Damon, his on mine.

  “He doesn’t hit me. He hasn’t hit me once, Damon. Not once.”

  Damon turned to her, his eyes searching her face, maybe trying to make out if she was lying.

  “I swear, Damon. Raphael won’t hurt me.”

  She shoved herself between us, standing in front of me as if she would protect me.

  “The bruises on your neck,” Damon said.

  “Something else. I promise, okay?”

  Damon looked at the floor, then ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. His face when he looked at me showed only confusion.

  “Let’s go back. Maria has dinner almost ready,” Sofia said, taking my hand in one of hers and reaching out to take his.

  Damon shook his head. “You two go.” He took another step back, his gaze landing on the altar.

  “Sofia,” I said, watching him as I spoke. “Wait for me outside. I’ll be right there.”

  She hesitated.

  “Go. No more fighting.”

  She nodded and gave us both a weighted look before walking out of the chapel.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, stepping toward Damon. “You’re right. I was trying to goad you. I don’t even know why.”

  He rubbed his hand over his mouth, his face, and shook his head. “I’m sorry too. I don’t know what came over me. I’m not…”

  “It’s my fault. Just forget it. If you need to talk—”

  “I need some time alone.”

  I nodded and walked toward the door. “You coming for dinner?”

  He walked to the front pew and sat down. “Go ahead. I’ll be there later.”

  As much as I wanted to go to him, to force him to talk to me, I made my legs carry me in the other direction and walked over to Sofia, who stood waiting on the church steps, her eyes wide with worry.

  “Let’s go,” I said.

  “What happened?”

  “Later.” I took her hand, and we headed toward the house. I felt grateful nightti
me would hide my face, because Damon was right to worry about Sofia. And he didn’t even know the whole story. Didn’t know what was still to come. And I hated myself a little more for it every day.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Sofia

  Raphael and I walked back to the house in silence. He held my hand, his thumb making circles inside my palm. The air hung heavy around him, his mood dark. I wished he’d tell me what had happened between him and Damon.

  “Are you okay?” I finally asked before we went inside.

  He turned to me and rubbed my arms, backing me against the wall. His expression looked as though he had a thousand things to say, but instead of saying any of them, he cradled my head with one hand and leaned down to kiss me full on the mouth, his lips soft against mine, the touch intimate and sensual. Different than his other kisses. Not erotic. Not at first. When he pulled back, his eyes almost gleamed.

  I touched his face, and he flinched. He’d have a wicked bruise tomorrow.

  “My intention when I started this, the whole time I planned it, I never thought about you. Not you as in flesh and blood and human. My brother is right to be worried. I keep telling you I won’t hurt you, but I do, don’t I?”

  “Raphael—”

  “It’s what I do.”

  He shook his head and touched a finger to my face.

  “I could stop. I could call it off. Let you go. Forget about the inheritance. If I were good, I would do that. But I’m not good.”

  I searched his eyes, confused. He looked solemn, almost sorry, and his words, they sounded so…final. But before I could ask him any questions, the door opened. Maria stepped out with Charlie running around her feet. She looked irritated and then when she saw us, embarrassed. She told us dinner was ready, and if we didn’t hurry up, it would be cold soon.

  “Come on.”

  Raphael took my hand and led me inside.

  After he had a quick shower, the three of us sat down to dinner. I didn’t miss how Lina’s eyes roamed to the empty seat where Damon was supposed to sit.

  When I’d gotten back to the house that afternoon, she’d seemed…different. Happy, but different than usual. She’d told me about her day with Damon, said he’d gotten to the house early, and they’d had coffee together while waiting for me, but when by ten I still hadn’t made an appearance, he’d offered to show her around his favorite village, Pienza. After that, the story had been fairly superficial. Lunch. A tour of the church. Then driving around the countryside. Something had told me not to ask more questions, but to wait for her to tell me.

  I wondered how much Damon and Lina’s day together had to do with the brothers’ fighting. I was dying to ask details of Raphael but couldn’t, not with Lina there. Instead, we made small talk, and every little sound had both Raphael and Lina glancing at the door. Damon never turned up, and it was past eleven at night when Lina finally went up to bed, her disappointment hard to miss.

  “What was that at the chapel?” I finally asked when we were alone in his bedroom.

  “Well—”

  He pulled off his T-shirt and tossed it on the floor before facing me.

  “Did you notice how he and your sister looked at each other when we got back?”

  “I noticed something, but she’s sixteen. I mean, she’ll be seventeen in a few months, but I thought I was wrong, given the fact he’s at seminary and she’s, well, young.”

  “I’m not saying anything happened. Damon’s far too responsible for that. Although today showed me a different side of my brother.”

  “How did the fighting start?”

  “I made some comment about what you just said, Lina being young, and he blew up. Things then rapidly moved on to your favorite topic. My anger issues.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek, not denying anything.

  “And it all just escalated into what you saw. You know, it’s maybe just years of anger he has too. I mean, I have no idea where he is in his head with what happened. With mom and, well, with what I did.”

  “You’ve never talked about it?”

  “We didn’t grow up talking about anything, Sofia.”

  “I think it hurt Lina’s feelings when he didn’t show up tonight.”

  “Well, it’s probably better off he didn’t. Not like anything could ever happen between them.”

  Him saying that out loud, though, it felt strange, almost as if he were tempting fate. Too caught up in what he said, I didn’t respond but stood studying him until he took my hand and led me to bed.

  I shared the discovery of mom’s perfume and lipstick with Lina. She didn’t have a connection with the scent I thought of as Mom’s, for which I was grateful. I didn’t want to give up my find.

  She and I spent the next two days together. Eric drove us around to some of the villages during the day, then we’d go back to the house and swim into the evening. Raphael pretty much left us alone, and Damon remained a no-show. Whenever I tried to steer conversation toward him, Lina managed to turn it around. It was clear she didn’t want to talk about him.

  On the morning she was to fly home, we got up early and took a long walk around the property with Charlie.

  “I’m not sure who you’re going to miss more, me or him,” I teased.

  “Both of you. I wish I could stay longer.”

  “I tried, but Grandfather wouldn’t allow it.” I left out the part about Raphael thinking it was safer for her to go home anyway.

  “Well, maybe I can come back over the Thanksgiving break. We can show Maria what an American holiday is like.”

  “You mean we cook a turkey? You and me?”

  “Nah. We don’t want to kill her.” She paused, hesitating for a moment before reaching into her pocket. “Do you think when you see Damon again you can give him this?” It was a sealed envelope.

  I took it from her hand, studying her, trying to work out how far I could go.

  “What happened with you two?”

  “Nothing. Not really.”

  She turned to walk, and I stepped alongside her. She kept her eyes on the ground, but I saw the small smile creep along her lips.

  “I don’t even know how to describe it.” She looked up at me. “I mean, he’s twenty-four years old, and he’s going to be a priest. It’s not like anything can happen.”

  “He and Raphael were fighting at the chapel yesterday. Physically fighting.”

  “Did Damon give him that shiner?”

  “He’s got a matching one.”

  “Ouch. What was it over?”

  “What Raphael told me was that he’d made some comment about how you’d looked at each other, and Damon blew up.”

  “He did?” She searched my face, hopeful, but then hers darkened again.

  “It doesn’t matter anyway. I’ll be on the other side of the ocean.”

  “And you’re sixteen.”

  “Almost seventeen.”

  “He’ll take vows of celibacy.”

  “He hasn’t yet.”

  “Lina,” I stopped and took her hands to make her look at me. My sister and I were close. I knew Lina. But I realized then how, over the last four years, we’d been apart more than we’d been together. Lina wasn’t just my little sister anymore. She’d grown up. She was almost an adult. This—whatever this was that had happened between her and Damon—it belonged to her and something told me to let it be. To not push.

  I suddenly didn’t know what to say. She looked at me like she thought I’d lecture her. Maybe that’s what she was used to with Grandfather. But that wasn’t what I wanted.

  “I don’t want you to be sad when you go home, that’s all,” I said, meaning every word.

  Tears burst from her eyes, and she fell into my arms.

  “I’m already sad. I’m losing you, Sofia. You’re not just two hours away. We’re not even in the same time zone anymore. There’s a whole freaking ocean between us now.”

  I hugged her back, squeezing tight. “I don’t care. We’re going to talk every day. We
’ll Facetime for hours. And I’ll come for visits.”

  “What if he doesn’t let you?”

  “He will. He has to.”

  “Sofia,” Raphael called out, walking toward us from the house.

  We both wiped our faces. I knew he’d seen our tears, but he didn’t mention it.

  “Time to go.”

  We nodded.

  Things felt different with him for some reason. I wish I knew what else he and Damon had discussed and had fought over.

  Lina climbed into the backseat of the sedan with Charlie in her lap. Raphael would drive us to Siena, where Lina would meet Grandfather. They would head to the airport together. I was determined to squeeze out every last minute I could with my sister.

  When we reached Siena, Grandfather was already waiting along with their driver beside their sedan. We climbed out, Lina and I with tears in our eyes.

  Raphael didn’t acknowledge my grandfather. Not with more than a nod of the head. Lina went to Raphael, and he turned to her.

  “Take care of my sister.” She looked him square in the eyes, my little sister standing taller, all grown-up.

  He studied her for a long minute, then nodded. “I will.”

  I saw the shadow behind his eyes. He was preoccupied, which I understood.

  My grandfather gave me an awkward hug, and although Lina and I had promised each other we wouldn’t cry, our last hug was tearful. Even Charlie seemed somber when the sedan drove away. Raphael remained silent, waiting and watching with me until their car disappeared.

  “Okay?” he asked as we climbed back into our car.

  I shrugged a shoulder, unable to look at him. I hated when he saw me cry.

  We drove in silence, heading home. Charlie dozed on my lap, and I petted him absently. I wasn’t paying attention to our surroundings, and when I did finally look up and saw Raphael gazing too frequently into the rearview mirror, I, too, glanced over my shoulder. A large black SUV drove behind us.

  “What is it?” I asked Raphael.

  He shook his head, his gaze intent for a moment on the SUV, then on the winding road. These streets weren’t very busy, and I wasn’t sure if it was Raphael’s reaction or what, but something felt wrong. Something about that SUV struck me.