Page 75 of The Consequence of You
“Your sister.”
He pokes me in the chest with the barrel of his gun.
“Start talking, kid.” His demand should have me shitting my pants, but I just shake my head.
“Not here. Let me get her upstairs, and then we’ll talk.”
Miraculously, he lets me carry her up, and she stays asleep the whole time. I slip her jeans off and cover her with a blanket before heading downstairs.
Callie’s father waits for me at the bottom of the staircase.Jesus Christ. I thought Luca had menacing down to pat, but this guy is fucking terrifying.
“Luca is waiting in the kitchen for you.”
IfTheGodfatherwasn’t released over fifty years ago, I’d swear Marlon Brando had modelled his accent on Don Messina’s. I shake out my shoulders and try not to let my nerves show. What I’m about to do is probably, scratch that, definitely one of the most dangerous things I’ve everdone, but I only have to think about the woman sleeping upstairs to know it’s worth the risk. I clear my throat.
“Actually, this involves you, too.”
Don Messina raises a solitary dark eyebrow before schooling his face. He pulls his hand from his pocket, and for a split second, fear grips me. But he just opens his empty palm, and gestures for me to go first.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
CALLIE
Iyank off my clothes and throw them into my washing basket. I’d woken to find someone had already removed my jeans, but the rest of what I had on, I’d been wearing since yesterday, and it was not smelling that fresh right now. My memories of getting home last night are a little hazy, but I do remember spilling everything to Asher. I also remember him telling me none of what I said changes how he feels about me.
In a different world, that would be enough, but it doesn’t change anything. Not really.
In five or six years, I’ll be married to whoever my father chooses for me. There’s no more future in a relationship with Asher than in the one I had with Nico.
I throw on a clean hoody and pyjama shorts so I can go and get a glass of water from downstairs.My head is banging from last night’s tequila. Opening my bedroom door, I run straight into my brother.
“Shit. Luca, sorry. I didn’t see you there.” He’s dressed casually in jeans and a sweater, but he looks like he needs to go back to bed. He’s pale and there are dark bags under his eyes. “Are you okay?” I’d already sent him and my father a text to apologise for last night, and they’d responded saying it was fine, and they’d see me in the morning, but Luca looks like he’s barely slept. “What’s wrong?”
“Will you get dressed? We’re going out.” Before I can ask where, he stalks off down the hallway.
Half an hour later, I’m showered, dressed and putting a coffee in a to-go cup when the kitchen door swings open. I expect my brother, but it’s Rossi.
Grabbing a mug from the cupboard, I fill it with black coffee, before stirring in two heaped spoonfuls of sugar and passing it to him. He takes a long drink. My bodyguard needs his caffeine hit as much as I do first thing in the morning.
I slide onto the stool next to him. “I’m sorry about last night. I was really upset after Papa and I argued, but I still should have told someone I was going out. I am sorry for any worry I caused.”
“I don’t need your apologies, Miss Callie. I was worried when I didn’t know where you were, but truthfully? I was glad to see you acting like a normal young adult, for once.”
It doesn’t escape my notice that my bodyguard’s words echo Asher’s.
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe it’s not my place to say.”
“No, please carry on.” I don’t know where this is going, but it’s clear Rossi has been holding back on me.
“Since your mama passed, you’ve been withdrawn. It’s a normal part of grieving. I know that. But the last few months, it was like your fire has been reignited. You’ve been coming down the stairs with a smile on your face. You’re drawing again. You’re laughing and enjoying your life. Sneaking out of the house? That’s normal behaviour for a nineteen-year-old, Miss Callie. It is.”
Rossi has been my personal guard for years now, and while he’s always maintained an extremely professional relationship with our family, you don’t spend as much time in each other’s company as we have without getting to know each other pretty well. As much as I know he’s getting paid to be here, I know he cares about me. Just like I care about him.
He’s just said he’s fine about it, but still my stomach churns with regret. I’ve snuck around before and look how that ended.
“Rossi, I–”
