Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 132791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
She turned to look at me, her throat bobbing at the sight of my ghastly eye. Or lack thereof. There was a milky white ball where the eye should be.
Lila gasped, the back of her knees hitting the bed frame.
I sauntered into the room. “What’s the matter, darlin’? See something you don’t like?”
She pressed her lips together. I wanted this. To destroy what we had. Snuff that hope out of my system.
Another step toward her. She didn’t cower. Didn’t move.
“Do I disgust you? Repulse you?” I stopped when I was toe-to-toe with her, snatching her chin, tilting her head up to make her look at her brother’s handiwork.
“Do you regret letting me kiss those lips?” I dipped my head down to brush my mouth against hers. “Suck this neck?” My lips fluttered along the side of her throat, and I gave her a nice, visible hickey. “Bite this flesh?” I sank my teeth to her collarbone.
She stood there, completely still, letting me take out my anger at Achilles, and Vello, and Tate, and Angelo, and the fucking world, on her.
For a moment, I thought we’d both finally snap. Rip each other’s clothes off and find out what this sex thing was all about. That in the heat of this anger, confusion, and revulsion, I would finally suck those beautiful tits. Taste that cunt that smelled like the most delicious of meals.
But then Lila pushed me off her, a storm dancing in her pretty blues.
“If you’re trying to make me hate you, don’t bother,” she signed. “This high school bully stuff doesn’t impress me. I know who you are. How you’ve taken care of me. I don’t know what happened to you today, but I’m going to take some space from you and hope you return to your senses tomorrow.”
I wanted to smash the walls down, because Lila was more mature, more levelheaded than my own grown ass. Because she refused to give up on us, when I knew the only way to keep her was to kill her entire family.
“I’m going to sleep in the recliner tonight. If Imma sees me on the couch, she’ll ask questions.” She shook her head. “Oh, and by the way. It’s a boy. We, dear husband, are having a boy.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
LILA
“A boy? Bummer. I’d been hoping for a girl.” Tierney pouted. “Less chance Tiernan would gift her a Kalashnikov for her second birthday. Mafia men are super chauvinistic.”
My cheeks still stung from Tiernan’s rejection yesterday. I’d spent the entire night curled on the recliner across from our bed, refusing to share a bed with him. He slept through the entire thing, his chest rising and falling evenly in the dark.
“He doesn’t care,” I signed to my sister-in-law, flipping through racks laden with pastel blue baby onesies in a Manhattan children’s boutique.
“Doesn’t surprise me.” Tierney seized five hangers with expensive baby clothes, tossing them into an embellished straw shopping bag. The store was all white and pastel colors, floating hangers and white rustic furniture.
It was adorable, and still, I couldn’t muster any kind of excitement.
“Tiernan is truly fucked up in the head. Calling him damaged wouldn’t even scratch the surface.” She picked up a fluffy white bunny, adding it to her basket.
I pulled a face. “I thought we were in a better place.”
“The only good place a man could be in is the doghouse.” She patted my shoulder. “All men are disappointments, Lila. But Mafia men are especially rotten. Hold your head high and don’t let him have power over you.”
I gnawed at my lower lip, wondering how much of our conversations she shared with him.
“You’re out of it today, aren’t you?” She looped her arm in mine, strutting toward the cashier. “Don’t worry. This is just fun-shopping. I prepared a full list of baby essentials on my phone. I’ll send it over to you. It includes links, so just follow them and order everything.”
I put my head on her shoulder. Tierney had been good to me. Better than Mama. The latter still hadn’t spoken to me, since I “came out.” And if I were being honest, I didn’t exactly miss her companionship anymore. She seemed unhappy to see me thrive. Whereas Tiernan’s answer to me shooting him was giving me classes so that next time I could do it better.
Ugh. Tiernan.
“You’ll be okay.” Tierney squeezed my shoulder.
“Thank you,” I mumbled.
Tierney ran up the bill and I handed the cashier my husband’s black Centurion. The two Irish soldiers and Camorra chaperone assigned to Tierney grabbed the bags and carried them back to my sister-in-law’s Range Rover. We drove back to Hunts Point and decided to stop at the Italian deli for a snack.
The sun hung high above the buildings, and though it wasn’t particularly warm, it was no longer arctic, so we settled at a round table outside. I ordered a latte and a plum tart, and Tierney made do with unsweetened black coffee. She looked like a supermodel, wafer-thin and feline in features. Even in black leather pants, a nondescript jacket, and oversized sunglasses, she turned every head on the street.