Page 63 of Little Deer
Those words, minus the nickname, sound far too close to what Joey used to say when we first started dating. When I felt overwhelmed and stressed, he would comfort me this way, too.
Damn it, I need to stop comparing them. Joey is dead. Massimo is not like Joey. But then again, Joey was a good man, comforting and caring, in the beginning, too. It’s so hard not to see it. To wonder.
It’s just another reason to add to the pile of reasons that Massimo and I need to keep this platonic. It’s not fair to him to constantly be compared to a dead man, and one that I fell out of love with by the end of it.
“What are you thinking?” Massimo asks. I jolt. Shit. What do I tell him? “No lying,cerbiatta,” he reminds me. “Even if you think the words are too painful, I want to hear them.”
I’m starting to hate this no lying thing. It’s like he wants to pull all my thoughts from me, even if I’m not ready to say them. Still, there’s also something cathartic about not having to hide anything inside or stew on it.
I look away from him, staring out into the room, partially to recenter myself and get my thoughts together, but also so I don’t have to face his expression as I talk. “I just…you’re showing yourself to be a good man, Massimo, but I can’t seem to tell my brain to trust that. I’ve been with a man who started off just like you, but he changed. And that was an everyday man. He wasn’t part of the mafia. He didn’t interrogate men to get information or benefit from the criminal side of the world. How am I supposed to accept that from you without questioning it? Not question you? Or myself? What kind of woman does it make me to accept that?”
His fingers gently grip my chin, turning me back to look at him. I expect to see anger, annoyance, even hurt, but instead I see understanding. This man is always a mass of contradictions.
His hazel eyes search mine before he finally replies, “You’re right, you don’t know any of that. The only way you’re going to believe me is if I show you that you can trust me. That you have nothing to fear from me. Your husband was an idiot, and he hurt you. He broke your trust, and you have never had the chance to rebuild that with anyone. For the rest of it, I can’t change who I am, Lucy. I was born into this life, and I embraced it from thetime I could walk. Accepting me is also accepting the mafia life and all that comes with it. I know that’s terrifying for you.”
“I don’t want Soren wrapped up in this.”
“He already is.” It’s not said harshly, but the words are like a gut punch. “He’s the grandson and nephew of three men who are trying to overtake this city. Four, if you count Nico. There is no hiding who he is now. I know that’s terrifying to you, but it’s a fact that can’t be ignored.”
“Why did you all have to find me?” Despair hits me. Why does fate have to be so cruel? Not to just me, but to my son? “Why couldn’t you have hidden me away again, let me live my life and be normal?” More tears spill and thumbs gently brush them away as he cups my cheek.
“The selfish part of me says that I wouldn’t want that because it would mean never meeting you. Meeting Soren. Feeling this pull, this connection with you. The other part, the one that understands, wishes we could have done the same. Could we have done it? Maybe, but even if we had, your mother’s journal would have exposed you. They would have found you eventually. We’d never be the wiser about you, and what might have happened then?”
I know he’s right, but the resentment is still there. Haven’t I suffered enough? It’s a selfish thought, but it’s there, and I won’t ignore it.
“Maybe they wouldn’t have.” It’s a weak argument.
The patience on his face never wavers. “Maybe, but I think deep down you know that’s not true,cerbiatta. Perhaps they would have taken a lot longer to find you, and whether you like to think about it or not, the criminal world has many more channels and connections to obtain information than those on the other side. Maybe it would have taken another ten, fifteen years, but we both know they would have found you.”
“She sent us away because she didn’t want us to die, but also because she didn’t love us. We were another strike against her. A part of me thinks that she would have rathered us be dead, but she was too scared to write it. Now, we’ve been pulled back in and I’m terrified about what that means.”
“It means that you trust us, trustme, to protect you. When this is all over, we figure out next steps, but for now, we have to work with what we can. You and I, Lucy, we have something to build on. To connect with.”
“It’s been, what, two days, Massimo? That’s not enough time to know anything.”
Massimo smiles. “My brother knew he wanted Sienna the moment he saw her,cerbiatta. Lazaro and Nico too. Amara hasn’t been here long either. It’s been a matter of a week or a little more, and look at them. Time means nothing when you know the person you’re with is meant to be yours.”
Pretty words that make me want to melt. Joey was never good at pretty words, not like this.
“It just feels so fast and overwhelming with everything else going on.”
“That is why communication is so important.” He lowers his hand from my face, and moves his hands down to hips, gently adding pressure to turn me so I’m straddling him. The position is intimate, and even with everything I have on, I feel him pressed against me. My eyes widen at the hard feel of him, my nails curling into his shoulders. The desire is back in his eyes, low, simmering. Instead, he says, “I want you, Lucy. I want to explore this connection we have. This desire that’s between us. I won’t pressure you, but I can’t walk away either.”
“Shouldn’t…Shouldn’t you be focusing on this whole war thing instead?”
His lips quirk. “It’s a very good thing I can multi-task, isn’t it? Having you and Soren forces me to work harder. To end thissooner. So I can show you that you have nothing to worry about. That this is not a normal life for us. It’s not all wars and family fuck-ups.”
“Your family does seem close.”
“We are.” He grins. “Perhaps too close at times, but it also means that we don’t fight each other for pieces. We work together. This is what a mafia should look like. It should be men working together for a common goal, no matter who they are or their position.”
He makes it sound so simple. My shoulders slump. “I don’t know, Massimo. I don’t feel like I can be objective about this right now. All I see is people fighting and dying, and every instinct I have is telling me to run far away.”
“Instead of running away, why can’t you run to me?”
I stare at him. “What?”
“Every time it gets to be overwhelming or too much, run to me. Let me help ease your fears and answer the questions that you have running in your head.” One hand trails slowly up my back, and his voice lowers. “Even if it’s only for a little while, I want you to trust me, Lucy. I want to be the one you reach for at night. I want to be the one you cry with if you need to. To yell at. To feel comfortable enough to get it all out. Let me be that person with you. For you.” He leans forward and brushes his lips lightly over mine. “All you need to do is let me in.”
