I shouldn’t be here.
That thought hit me like a thunderbolt the second I stepped inside the church. I hadn’t been to Mass in years, and I half expected someone to point at me as I crossed the threshold and declare that my kind wasn’t welcome here.
A glance down revealed that my long sleeves, which were completely inappropriate in this godforsaken heat, hid most of the tattoos on my arms and hands. Likewise, my shirt was buttoned all the way up, covering the ink on my neck. With my dark hair slicked back and my face shaved, I looked respectable enough, but from the way the church greeter’s eyes widened at the sight of me, I wasn’t fooling anyone.
She was a plump grandmother type with short gray hair and a hooked nose. Instead of saying hello, she jerked her head to the right, looking nervous. “Your mom and brother are already inside.”
I gave her a nod and moved past her, my gaze shifting toward the nave as I wondered which of my siblings had tagged along with Mom. This was the largest Catholic church in the city, a huge, ornately decorated gothic monstrosity that would have been more at home in Eastern Europe than middle America. You’d think Saturday Mass would be less crowded than Sunday, but a sea of people was packed into the nave.
Turning left, I headed toward the far aisle, my gaze scanning the crowd. Today wasn’t about being a good little Catholic; it was recon. This was my family’s church, Lauren’s family’s church. I knew for a fact that her Nonna Bianchi still attended Saturday Mass, because Mom was in the event-planning group with her and mentioned her during a recent family dinner. And if Lauren getting all dolled up and heading to her nonna’s apartment early this morning was any indication, they would both be in attendance today.
I swiveled my head, looking for them.
“Junior? Is that you?” came a lilting Irish voice.
Fucksake. Mom had already spotted me. My luck was the goddamn worst. So much for scoping out the crowd.
I paused mid-step and turned, plastering on a smile. Mom extracted herself from a group of other women and headed my way. She wore her church mouse best: a demure floral dress, comfortable heels, and a nondescript purse. Her light brown hair was loose to her shoulders, and she’d framed her green eyes with mascara. Looking at her, you’d never know that she’d spent her youth helping her father make bombs in their basement.
“Hi, Mom,” I said, leaning down to hug her. At five ten, I was average height, but I still dwarfed her tiny form.
“It’s so nice of you to come to Mass,” she said, tacking on “for once” because she couldn’t help herself. To her, being neck-deep in death and destruction was acceptable. Skipping church as often as I did? Unforgivable. But being raised in the IRA during the height of the Troubles could do that to a person, so I tried not to let her comment get to me.
I pulled back, keeping my smile firmly in place. “I wanted to surprise you.”
“Consider me surprised,” she said, looping her arm through mine. Her voice dropped into something a little softer, a little sadder, as she leaned into my side. “You’ve stayed away awhile this time.”
Guilt washed over me. Fuck. How could I get away from Dad without risking my relationship with her? “I know,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
She squeezed my arm. “I understand, but please be better about texting me. I worry.”
“I will,” I told her.
Mom tugged me forward, and I reluctantly let her drag me to the front of the church, where people were starting to file into the pews. There weren’t exactly assigned seats, but the congregants knew not to sit in the first several rows unless they belonged to certain families. They were a place of privilege, prestige. Every single person around us had a surname ending in a vowel.
I was surprised to see Alec already in his seat when we approached, turned away from us as he spoke to an older man I vaguely recognized. Out of all my brothers, I least expected him to be here. If I was a lapsed Catholic, he was a full-blown atheist.
“Look who decided to join us,” Mom said.
Alec turned, and we locked eyes, both of us wearing equally suspicious looks.
What the fuck are you doing here? I wondered, and I could tell Alec was thinking the same thing. Neither of us did anything without reason. I was here for Lauren; I had no idea why he’d come. Maybe he needed to get on Mom’s good side for some reason, or he was trying to make a deal with the retired don beside him.
I made a mental note to interrogate Alec about it later as he rose from his seat and offered his hand. We shook, squeezing each other harder than necessary.
“Nice of you to finally show your ugly face,” he said.
I grinned. “Not as ugly as yours. Is that a new mole?”
He looked me over, unperturbed. “Your eyes are set too close together. That’s what it is.”
“I think the mole is growing hair,” I told him. Other families might show their affection for each other the normal way, open and easy, but in the Trocci household, our love language was antagonism. This exchange was my and Alec’s fucked-up way of saying we’d missed each other.
He opened his mouth to fire something back at me, but a woman’s voice cut him off.
“Is that little Nicky?”
Shit.
Alec’s eyes lit with unadulterated glee. I hated that old nickname, and he knew it.
“It sure is,” he said, banding an arm around my shoulders and jerking us in the direction of the speaker.
The wound at my side pulled, painfully, and I stomped on Alec’s toes to get him to release me. He let out a low curse, his arm falling away.
“Behave,” Mom hissed.
We assumed innocent expressions.
“Mrs. Mancini,” I said, facing the woman in the pew ahead of us. She had to be pushing ninety, but her fingers were firm when she reached out to shake my hand.
“Oh, you grew up so handsome,” she said. “Even better looking than your brother.”
I shot Alec a shit-eating grin and dropped my voice. “She must have noticed the mole.”
He shook his head, but I could tell from the way his lips twitched that I’d almost made him laugh with that one.
Mrs. Mancini’s gaze shifted to Mom as she released me. “Why don’t you bring them to Mass more and show them off? Some of us have single granddaughters.”
“Unfortunately, I’m taken,” I lied through my teeth. “But Alec isn’t.” Putting my hands on his shoulders, I shoved him forward like a sacrificial lamb.
His glare promised vengeance. My answering smile felt diabolical. Mom looked heavenward, as if praying for patience.
More people continued to filter in, offering a welcome distraction from the attempted matchmaking. The next several reintroductions went about the same way, though. Alec and I got the standard hellos and how have you beens followed by a nice strong shot of Catholic guilt about me and my wayward brothers, directed at Mom.
By the time we finally took our seats, she was over it. “Jesus Christ,” she muttered between me and Alec, crossing herself even as she blasphemed. “You’d think it’s all my fault you’re not here every weekend.”
“Isn’t it?” I asked, deadpan.
She glared, knowing my dry sense of humor well enough to pick up on the troll. “One more word, and I’ll volunteer you to be an usher next week.”
I lifted my hands in surrender. Mom didn’t make idle threats.
Slowly, the seats around us filled while this week’s volunteers moved about the sanctuary as they prepared for Mass. Where the fuck were Lauren and Mrs. Bianchi? They should have been in the pew right across from ours, but the spot was conspicuously empty. I turned, scanning the back of the crowd. The whole reason I’d come here was for the chance of seeing Lauren in the flesh, and if I had to sit/kneel/stand through an hour of bullshit for nothing, I’d be pissed.
I was just starting to turn back around when a flash of color caught my eye. Entering the nave were two women, one as old as the rest, leaning on the arm of someone much younger. Someone wearing a pastel pink sundress that contrasted beautifully with her tan skin. It was them. They’d made it.
My gaze zeroed in on Lauren. Need and possessiveness roared through me at the sight of her, and I briefly entertained the idea of striding down the center aisle, throwing Lauren over my shoulder, and walking out to the sweet sound of her startled shriek. Instead, I turned back around to keep from drawing attention to myself. I couldn’t help my self-satisfied grin, though. Earlier, I’d watched Lauren just long enough to guess that she was escorting her grandmother here, and it felt good to be right, especially because it would put me within touching distance of her.
I kept my gaze on the altar, eyes unfocused while my full attention went to my periphery. Any second now, she would walk into sight, and I wanted to be looking at her when she noticed me. I wanted to see her up close and personal, study that split second of recognition and gut reaction before her brain caught up to her eyes and she schooled her face or tried to hide her feelings. That tiny moment of time was where the truth lived.
Suddenly, pink bloomed in my periphery as Lauren pulled even with our pew.
I turned my head, but instead of looking my way, she had her back to me as she helped her grandmother to her seat. Not that I was complaining. It gave me a moment to study her, my gaze trailing up her shapely legs to her spankable ass. The echoes of her moans filled my ears as the memory of her riding her own hand floated to the forefront of my mind. Just last night, this woman had made me come so hard I’d seen stars, and she didn’t even know it.
Once her grandmother was settled, Lauren took her seat, her face downturned as she flipped through today’s church program. Since her hair was tucked behind her ears, I had a clear view of her profile. She didn’t look upset or worried, and she had to have heard the news about her dad by now.
Maybe she didn’t think there was a reason to worry. Tommy Marchetti had never been the most reliable person, and even when he was around, he wasn’t exactly winning any father of the year awards. The first time I’d ever met the guy was when he’d kicked my ass, and she and I had practically grown up together. He’d never been at our school plays, or her soccer games. He hadn’t even come to Lauren’s confirmation, a huge event for young Catholics. Who knew, maybe this wasn’t even the first time he’d disappeared from her life?
Movement behind her drew my gaze, and I glanced over to see people nearby casting looks her way. One or two even leaned in to whisper something to those seated next to them. I thought they were talking about Tommy at first—news traveled fast in the old neighborhood—but then I caught sight of their censuring glances and realized this wasn’t idle church gossip; this had teeth. It brought to mind Dad’s insult. Whore.
Were these motherfuckers talking shit about Lauren? My Lauren?
From the unbothered way she lifted her head and scanned the people around her, she either didn’t notice the way they stared and whispered, or she didn’t care. Which meant there was no need for me to be bothered by it. But try as I might to talk myself down from the ledge, my temper clawed its ugly way out of the abyss and sank its teeth into me.
What pissed me off more than anything was the hypocrisy. Half these assholes had family members in the mob, men who’d committed innumerable crimes, done unspeakable things to other humans. I was one of them, and they were fine talking to me, but take your top off for money and you were shunned.
My expression flattened, and I locked eyes with several of the gossipers, one after another, who wisely decided to go back to minding their own fucking business.
“Hey, Lauren!” Alec called.
She turned toward the sound of her name, spotting him. The beginning of a smile tugged at her mouth, but her gaze tripped sideways, landing on me, and I finally got to watch that split second of recognition wash over her.
Hello, beautiful.
Her eyes flashed wide as her full lips, painted a muted pink to match her dress, popped open in surprise. Our gazes caught and held. Despite the crowd of onlookers, something sparked between us right there in the middle of church. Something dark, hungry. Ravenous because it had barely gotten a taste ten years ago and had been starving ever since.
“Junior,” she said, sounding out of breath.
I flashed her a knowing grin. “You look good, Lo. It’s nice to see you.”
She blushed prettily and glanced away.
“Yeah, nice to see you,” Alec muttered, but I could tell from his tone that he was amused. The bastard knew about my history with Lauren better than anyone else, and I was sure he’d called her name hoping to stir up some drama.
I should probably look away from her—people were starting to notice my staring—but for the life of me, I couldn’t tear my gaze free. Lauren’s sundress was fitted through the bodice, tight enough that it was obvious she was still breathing fast. From desire? Or fear, too? No one outside of the inner mob circle and immediate family knew exactly what my dad, brothers, and I did, only that we’d climbed high enough in the ranks that we had the ear of Lorenzo, the head of the organization, so Lauren shouldn’t have had any knowledge of my involvement in her dad’s disappearance. Especially since the only ties she seemed to have to the old neighborhood were her sister and grandmother.
I was tempted to say something more, get her to look my way again so I could get a better read on her, but the altar servers were marching out of a side door with their lit taper candles, indicating that Mass was about to start.
Reluctantly, I faced forward, biding my time until this spectacle was over and I got a chance to speak with Lauren one-on-one. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her sneak a quick glance my way, and I grinned to myself as the priest took his place behind the altar. She might have been surprised by my presence, but there was no denying that she’d felt it, too, the pull between us that couldn’t be denied.
Good thing I had such an iron control over my body, or standing when the priest ordered us up would have been real awkward. The memory of Lauren’s latest video was seared into my mind, and I couldn’t stop replaying it. What I wouldn’t give to see her come in person, to make her come, using my tongue to drive her over the edge. Yeah, that’s what I’d do first, drop her onto whatever flat surface was closest and shove her knees wide before burying my face in her cu—
Mom elbowed me, and I realized everyone around us was speaking. Right, the time for congregation participation had begun. Though it had been years since I’d attended church, the right words fell from my lips almost without thought. They’d been drilled into my head during my youth, and I guess they’d stuck.
I looked left to see Lauren speaking the same words, though the sight of her lips moving turned my thoughts more blasphemous than holy. As if she could feel me staring, she glanced my way again, just long enough to meet my eyes, her brows lifting almost in question, like she wondered why I’d suddenly shown up here after nearly a decade of absence.
I couldn’t help it; I winked at her. You’re why, sweetheart.
Her frown turned into a glare, and she jerked her gaze back to the front of the church.
Oh, so she wasn’t afraid; she was pissed. It was good to know what I was working with. I’d rather have her angry at me than afraid. Coming back from fear was difficult. But rage? Rage could turn into desire if you knew what you were doing, and I liked my odds.
Behind the altar, the priest continued to drone. Down we went to our knees for prayer. Back up to our seats. We stood. Then kneeled again. I snuck glances at Lauren, because I couldn’t help myself, but her gaze stayed steadfastly fixed ahead after our last exchange.
A small eternity seemed to pass before the priest gave us his final blessing. I got to my feet afterward and forced myself to do the right thing, to wait with my family while Mom said her goodbyes to those who wouldn’t be joining in on coffee hour.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Alec demanded as we trailed Mom up the aisle a few minutes later.
I schooled my face. “What do you mean?”
He dropped his voice. “With Lauren, you asshole.”
“Nothing,” I said. Yet.
“Don’t be an idiot.”
The comment put my back up. “Since when am I ever an idiot?”
Being stupid wasn’t a luxury I was allowed to enjoy. I always had to be “on,” always had to be ready in case the shit hit the fan. It was why I never drank, never did drugs. I was on call twenty-four seven, and I’d learned from a young age how much trouble you could get in if you were careless.
Alec glanced ahead of us, toward where Lauren was passing through a side door into the back of the church. “Haven’t you done enough to that woman?”
My anger sparked. Probably because there was a thread of truth in his words I didn’t want to hear. “Relax. I’m just making sure she’s okay after everything.” With her dad, I didn’t have to add.
“She seems perfectly fine to me,” Alec said. “Job done. You can leave now.”
I studied him before responding. “You seem awfully eager to get me out of here. Is that why you came today? You want to finally shoot your shot with her?” Alec’s history with Lauren was even longer than mine. They’d been in the same class from kindergarten until she’d transferred out of the district right before their senior year.
Alec scoffed. “No. Fuck off. I just don’t want to see an old friend get hurt.”
“You haven’t talked to her since she left school, so don’t try to pull the protective friend bullshit with me. Why are you really trying to push me out of here so fast? What are you up to?”
He clamped his mouth shut as we entered the rear event hall, and I knew I had him on the ropes.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” I said. “Look, don’t get in between me and Lauren, and I won’t interfere with whatever business you’re trying to get into with these old bastards.”
“Fine,” he muttered.
I spotted my quarry heading toward the restrooms in the rear of the hall and elbowed my brother. “Do me one more favor? Run interference?”
I didn’t give him a chance to respond before stalking after Lauren, trusting that Alec was so used to following orders that he would do what I said.
