Page 29 of Little Deer
16
LUCY
It’s reallyawkward meeting your “family” for the first time. Especially ones that have faces almost identical to yours, and with two very different personalities. I’m figuring out pretty quickly that Gia is the quiet, shy one, while Amara is the blunt and friendly one. It’s like watching two ends of the spectrum, and I’m not sure where in the middle I fall.
Kida, however, has taken to Amara easily. The two of them are chatting away, discussing hair stuff, with Amara running her hands through Kida’s hair, testing and pulling on strands as she does. Gia and I sit and watch them while I finish getting Soren changed into a new outfit. The little stinker just ruined the last one that resulted in him having to have another bath and tossing out the other clothes.
Thank God whoever went out bought a bunch of different outfits. Still, I slip him back into another onesie.
“He’s very proud of himself,” Gia remarks softly, giving me a small smile.
I smile back. “He probably is. I’ve been doing multiple loads of laundry a day for the last couple of weeks. We figured out it was the fish I was eating, and sometimes random things bother him, but it’s hard to pin down those specifically.”
She chuckles. “I can only imagine. I haven’t been around children much, so I don’t really know what you’d have to watch out for, but I have read that blowouts are a common thing with new babies.”
“Guess it’s better to get it out of him, but my laundry bill is going up a lot.” I glance down at myself. The sling and my clothes were also destroyed and I had to have a quick shower with Soren to get us both clean and changed. I’m now in a simple black t-shirt and another pair of comfy yoga pants.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be here to meet you when you got here,” Gia murmurs, glancing away when I look at her in confusion. “Some…some things came to light and I didn’t handle them well. I can’t imagine how scared you were. I’ve been on the receiving end of their abuse, so I know how sore you must be.”
“Massimo said that you suffered abuse by all of them. How did you survive it? The two who said they’re my brothers were bad enough. And the guy who says he’s my father is just ruthless and cold.” She’s a bit smaller than me, though not by much, and her nature just seems more fragile. I don’t know how she’s turned out the way she has. How can anyone survive something like that and not turn dark or be broken?
Her smile turns sad. “When you don’t know anything else, I guess it just becomes your life and you have no choice. I was privately tutored, my every move monitored, and they just liked to hurt me for their own sick version of fun. I drowned myself in the books I was allowed to read and in my studies. I tried to stay out of their way as much as possible. It wasn’t until my father married his third wife that I finally got a small taste of freedom. She didn’t like me around, and I got an apartment of my own.It was still a prison, and I was only allowed to do certain, very limited things, but it gave me a bit of a breather. I’m sorry they hurt you.”
“Why do they hate me so much? Why do they hate you?” Those questions just keep rattling around in my head.
Gia winces. “If I tell you that it’s because we’re women, would you believe me?”
I blink. Wait, what? “So because we don’t have dicks, they hate us?”
“Pretty much. Our family prides themselves on always having boys. Very few girls have been born in our family throughout the past few generations. Or at least, none of them have been recorded or mentioned. Our grandfather had just our father and uncle, before that our great-grandfather had four sons, but only two survived, and I think before that, our great-great grandfather had ten sons, but that was back in Italy where I think most of them lived and worked. Out of all of that, I only think my great-grandfather had one daughter, and he married her off the minute he could.”
“That’s so fucking messed up. So they have a bunch of boys and they think that means we’re somehow defective?”
She nods, eyes sad. “Girls can’t do what they can. They can’t grow their empire. They marry and bare children for another family. Our only uses are marriage for alliances when they want them. Our father never loved our mother, and the only reason she was around as long as she was was because she kept having boys.”
I shake my head, baffled. “Again, that’s so messed up.” I look at Soren. “I can’t imagine being unhappy that I had a daughter instead of a son. I was just so happy to have a healthy baby.” I give her a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that and the rest of us got out. That’s not fair to you.”
Her lip trembles slightly. “Thanks. I just hope that you never have to face them again. Marco was the worst, but he’s decided to go against Father and Giovanni.”
“I remember them saying that name. They were talking about killing him though. Something about Sebastain and Mattaeo? I don’t understand though if they’re a family of men, wouldn’t they all want to stick together?”
“You’d think that but men crave power. They want to be the top dog, and they’re willing to get rid of anyone in their way. Our family is no different. Giovanni was the younger brother to our father, so he was never going to be Don, even though he felt he should be. Father liked to remind him of his place. Father made major mistakes with Marco and gave him too much rope, letting him think he was better than he was. And in this life, the son normally kills the father to take the seat. Marco just tried to overthrow Father too early, and at the same time as Giovanni.”
“This is all so confusing. I feel like we’re back in medieval times and not modern day New York City. Then again, they told me they were going to sell me, so I guess there’s not much difference. I know I’m full of milk right now but I’m not a fucking cow.”
Gia lets out a snorting laugh, drawing attention from Kida and Amara. “Wait, who’s a cow?” Amara demands.
“Jesus not this again,” Kida groans. “Seriously, sis, stop calling yourself that.”
“Wait, you call yourself a cow?” Amara’s eyes are huge as they stare at me.
I flush. “It’s kind of a self-depricating joke. I’m full of milk, hence, cow.”
Amara and Kida share a look. “She’s got a weird sense of humor. She used to tell us that she was a chicken because she laid an egg once a month when we were teenagers to freak the guys at school out.”
“They were creeps.”
“They were teenage boys that didn’t understand about periods and you probably scarred them for life,” Kida scoffs.
