Page 62 of Forbidden Pregnancy
“I won’t.”
“We don’t know what could happen after I do this. Leandro could–”
She stops me from speaking with a hand on my arm. Her warm hand makes me flinch this time.
“Don’t think of the worst.”
“We need to find out who attacked her.”
“It was twelve years ago. I didn’t even know you two were…” CC trails off and smirks. I scowl because she’s my little sister and I can tell when she’s about to do or say something annoying. “I guess it makes sense. You were always desperate to get a girl to like you who isn’t trashy for once.”
“Myra is perfect,” I say to CC forcefully.
She rolls her eyes. “I know she is.”
“Beyond perfect,” I mutter to myself. I don’t know when this obsession turned into something so much greater than that, but the intensity of what I feel for Myra cannot be explained by logic. I loathe the vulnerability, only worsened by my father’s incessant threat to her life.
CC pushes me to think carefully with her next words, “So what? Is dad going to come here and do it himself?”
It’s a good question considering her inexperience, but my father wouldn’t handle a firearm when he can get another man willing to take the fall for a little money or a taste of power. There’s always someone stupid enough to get in my way.
“He never does his own dirty work,” I explain to my sister.
CC leans her head on my shoulder and I find it oddly comforting. When she was a child, I found her clinginess frustrating and burdensome. Now, I imagine we only have so many moments together to bond as siblings. I wasn’t always the best man at keeping her safe. I didn’t always fulfill my duties to her and I especially failed Flora.
“We can’t hunt and keep Myra safe here,” CC says, pulling me out of my ruminating thoughts into the more significant world of action. “So what do we do about that?”
She’s right – What’s next is far more important.
“If I knew, sis,” I mutter. “I wouldn’t be here smoking and thinking…”
CC wraps the blanket around her shoulders and then wraps her arms around me. She doesn’t comfort me as much as she hopes. My sister’s thin and surprisingly warm arms serve to remind me of my duties to her, my family, and my future.
“Have you thought about calling Luigi?” CC asks, leaving her blanket over my shoulders. Her pajamas are much warmer than what I’m wearing. I haven’t thought about calling Luigi. I trustedhim so far, but heisone of the few people old enough to have information about who attacked Myra twelve years ago.
Her revelation sowed new distrust in my mind, and it’s as if my world has shrunk down to just Myra, the baby, and my sister Cosima. I trust only them and our future, whether it’s sensible or not.
“No.”
“You can trust him, Michael. You know that.”
“I can’t trust anyone in this goddamn family. Not with Myra.”
She can’t blame me for saying or thinking that. Even when I left CC close to Myra, she took it upon herself to slip something in Myra’s drink, stealing her autonomy away from her and putting both of us in this terrifying situation. The baby could come early. The baby could come late.
Anything can happen and I’m not the one with the advantage here, except for the fact that I’m the only person crazy enough to return to Buffalo, NY with a member of a powerful and ruthless mafia family prepared to kill him. And his woman.
My wife.Once this all ends, I will prove to my father and everyone else the truth in my heart by making Myra Brent my wife –Myra Corsini.I want my children to share in my name and my heritage without fear. I never knew what I wanted out of life until now, because it was stolen from me.
“You can trust me,” CC says. “I want to help.”
“Haven’t you helped enough?”
“Trust me,” CC says.
“I’ll admit I’m hesitant.”
She laughs. “You’re crazy.”
