LUCA
The sight of my brother so close to her...
It took everything I had not to tear his fingers from her body and crush his skull between my bare hands. My blood burned in my veins and a red haze covered my vision, but I showed none of this. I held my body in perfect control, clenching my hands into fists in my pockets to restrain myself from wrapping them around his throat and squeezing until his lips turned blue and his eyes popped out of his head. "Step away from her. Slowly."
Instead of doing as I'd told him, Mario wrapped his arm around her waist and tugged her in closer. A flash of white-hot rage shot through me right before my heartbeat slowed to a heavy rhythm. My focus zeroed in on him. Did he know she was no longer under my protection?
"I believe you're outnumbered," he told me. "Rather careless of you to allow her to come here on her own." His men surrounded us, but I wasn't worried. They were idiots. Just like their boss. Enzo and Tristen could take half of them down before they even realized what was happening. "Would you really want to make a scene when I'm only here grieving with the woman who would've been my future sister-in-law? We've gotten
rather... close... in the time we spent together."
Veda's face was ghostly white, and she was trembling so hard I could see it from where I stood, despite the determined set to her jaw and the cold fire flashing from her eyes. I knew if I gave her the indication to attack, she would do it without thinking twice. Before Mario could think to defend himself, I would be there to help her.
My brave girl.
But I decided to save that surprise for a time when it was needed more. "A scene? I'm not the one threatening an innocent woman in full view of a room full of people." I took a step forward and stopped. I had to force myself to keep my distance. To keep my voice down. "This is not the place nor the time for you to make your stand," I told my brother. "The nice people inside won't hesitate to call the cops, and not only will it land our asses in jail-at least temporarily-it will interrupt business and anger our father, just because you decided to have a pissing contest here and now. So step away from her, Mario, and we'll save this for another day when we won't be interrupted."
His upper lip lifted in a sneer and his bloodshot eyes darted from me to our men. I didn't have to turn around to know they all had their hands inside their jackets, resting on their guns. If he didn't back off, shots would be fired, and innocent people would get hurt. It was at that moment I realized, truly realized, how far gone my brother had become. "Mario, this is not the time."
His eyes shot back to me. And then he smiled. "You're right," he said. "I wouldn't want to be the reason Nicole's party was ruined." Something primeval bubbled up into my throat as he picked up Veda's hand, flipped it over, and kissed her palm. "Until we meet again."
"That's not going to happen," she ground out between clenched teeth, then she ripped her hand from his grasp and wiped it on her dress.
Mario just smiled. With an inconspicuous flick of his fingers, he told his men to stand down. Immediately, they fell in line behind him as he left the funeral home. At the door he turned. "Not very smart of you," he murmured. "Allowing her out in public alone like this."
I watched him go, giving Tristan a nod. Pulling out his cell phone, he followed Mario out of the building. He'd watch the cars leave and get the license plate numbers, so one of our men could follow him.
Veda stood where he'd left her, her wide, gray eyes now focused on me, just as watchful as before. Most of the tension had left the room with my brother. But now a different kind of energy filled the air between us.
I approached her cautiously, stopping when I noticed her spine stiffen. "You're not safe here."
Her eyes narrowed. "From whom, exactly? Mario? Or you."
I didn't respond to her question. I couldn't. Because I wasn't sure of the answer.
"Veda? You okay?"
A striking woman with dark skin and purple braids, wearing a stylish black pants suit, strode across the entry to her friend. Her large, brown eyes looked me up and down and obviously found me lacking. This must be Sammy, Veda's friend. If I wasn't so pissed off, my immediate impression would be that I liked her.
"I'm okay," Veda told her without taking her eyes from me. "Go back inside."
Sammy stared at me hard, then at Enzo. Tristan chose that moment to come back inside also, and her dark eyes shifted to him, then back to me. "Yeah, I don't think I will, V. I think I'm gonna keep my happy ass right here."
My smile felt tight. "I only came to pay my respects."
"The paying respects part is in there," she told me with a jerk of her head.
"Of course." I looked back at Enzo and Tristan and indicated for them to remain there by the doors, and then I made my way into the main room where Nicole's memorial was set up. Veda's parents stood together near a large photo of the woman I'd seen only once on TV, her face animated and her blue eyes sparkling with life. The photo was striking, obviously a head shot. Yet, still, there was something missing. Despite her bleached hair and bright eyes, she didn't have the vibrancy of her sister. Something that came from within, not from makeup and hair stylists and clothes. Veda could walk into a room in a T-shirt, jean shorts, and flip flops, and all eyes would turn to her. They wouldn't be able to help themselves. She was like the sun, pulsing warmth and life into everyone around her until all you wanted to do was get closer to her.
I didn't speak to her parents. In their grief, I knew I would seem cold. Uncaring. Because that's exactly what I was. I didn't grieve the death of their daughter. I was glad for it. If Nicole hadn't died, I wouldn't have gotten to know Veda.
She was nowhere to be found as I left the funeral home, my guts twisting as every instinct I had told me not to leave her there. But I couldn't very well throw her over my shoulder and walk out with her in front of all of these people. And now that her sister was properly laid to rest, she would try to leave. And if she succeeded, I might never see her again.
I couldn't let that happen.
"Let's go," I told the guys as I walked past them.
"What about Veda?" Enzo asked when we got outside.
"What about her?"
"We're just leaving her here? After what we just saw?"
"Yes."
Tristan stood in front of the door, blocking my way. "Luca, that's fucked up and you know it."
I did know it, but there was nothing I could fucking do about it at the moment, and that made me want to hit something. I narrowed my eyes at him as the blood rushed to my head. "Why do you continue to question me about her?" Frustrated with myself and everyone around me, I stepped into his personal space. Eye to eye, I smiled as he stilled. "Why does it matter so much to you?" I challenged.
His eyes darkened, and a muscle jumped in his jaw, clearly visible beneath his close-cut beard. I felt the tension grow between us. I fucking fed off it as I waited for him to throw the first punch. Because it couldn't be me. I would lose him forever if it was me. No one had to tell me that. Tristan was fucked up in a way I would never understand, which was perfect for this moment when my mood swung back and forth like a pendulum and a good fight would only give me an outlet for my rage. And his. The emotion a constant simmer just beneath the surface of his skin. But I couldn't strike first. Instinct told me he would never forgive me.
Enzo stepped between us, shoving his bulk between our bodies with his back to Tristan. "Jesus Christ. Back off, Luca. Right fucking now."
"Or what?" I asked him, without taking my eyes from Tristan.
Reaching up, he removed his sunglasses. "You don't want to do this. Not now. Not with Tris. If you're still itching for a fight, you can take it out on me."
He was right. I knew this. And yet, I couldn't force my feet to move.
Enzo knew me better than anyone. "Tristan, why don't you go get the car? Tristan!"
With a jerk, his eyes shifted to Enzo's profile. He gave a nod, turned, and walked outside.
Enzo gave me a shove, forcing me back. I wiped the back of my hand across my mouth and fixed my coat. "What the fuck is your problem, Luca?"
That was a good question.
"Luca!"
I shoved past him as Tristan pulled the car around to the front of the funeral home, Enzo hot on my heels. He didn't say anything else. Not until we got into the car.
Then he turned around in his seat to give me a hard stare. "What the hell is the matter with you?"
"Take us home, Tristan," I ordered, ignoring him.
"I asked you a fucking question, Luca. We've known each other a long time, and I've never been anything but loyal to you, but if you think I'm going to stick around when you can't even keep your shit together-"
"You don't need to worry about me," I told him.
He shook his head, turning to fasten his seat belt when the SUV wouldn't stop chiming. "Don't turn into your father," he said quietly.
I turned to look out the window. He was right. He was fucking right, and I knew it. "I apologize, Tris," I told him.
He glanced at me in the rearview mirror but said nothing.
"Fuck." I scrubbed my face with my hands.
"It's alright," Tristan said.
"No, it's not alright," Enzo countered, turning back around to point a finger at me. "It's not fucking alright at all. You need to burn off some steam? Fine. We do it in the fucking gym. You don't turn on the only two friends you fucking have."
Enough with this shit. "Are you forgetting who you work for?" I asked him.
He didn't even blink at my cold tone. "Are you forgetting who keeps your ass alive?"
His words hit me like a bucket of ice. "No," I said after a pause. "No. I haven't forgotten."
Satisfied, he turned back around in his seat. "I love you, Luca. You know that. I love you like a brother. But you ever go after Tristan like that again
-"
"I don't need you to protect me," Tristan told him quietly.
Enzo glanced over at him. "Yeah, I know you don't. But I will. Just like I protect that asshole back there." He pointed his thumb toward the back seat. He turned around again. "And I always will."
I held his stare until he turned back around.
They were quiet after that, leaving me alone with my thoughts. When we got to the house, I asked Tristan to come to my office with me. Alone.
"I am sorry," I told him. "I shouldn't have done that. I don't even fucking know why I did."
He walked over to the side table and poured us both a drink. "Because you're feeling a lot of things you're not used to, and you don't know how to process those feelings. And it makes you angry. It makes you feel out of control. So you do something that will make you feel in control again. Usually something stupido."
I took the drink from him, staring down at the amber liquid as I swirled it around in my glass. "Is there another way to fix that?"
"Yeah." He took a sip of his drink. "Stop fucking feeling things."
"I wish it were that easy."
His eyes went to the window, and he stared out at the bright, sunny day. "So do I," he said.