Twisted Hearts (The Camorra Chronicles #5) - Cora Reilly Page 0,6

cried when they were heartbroken or sad, I wasn’t that lucky. I also bawled when I was angry or exceedingly happy, which led to many embarrassing scenes. Emotionality ran like a curse in our family—at least on the female side. Diego had the emotional range of a brick.

Savio chuckled and exchanged a look with his older brother. Diego rolled his eyes. This was too much. I jumped to my feet and shoved past them, then hoisted myself out of the cage and rushed toward one of the doors, hoping it would lead to a restroom. I needed to splash some water in my face before I lost it… and the remains of my dignity.

I’d wanted to impress Savio with my skills so he’d finally take notice of me, but now they all laughed at me like many did in school because of my clothes and beliefs.

“Gemma, get a grip!” Diego called.

I ignored him. Half the time, he was the reason why I cried anyway. I pushed through the door and into a locker room where I made a beeline for the sink. I splashed water onto my face, sucking in a sharp breath from the cold. It helped with the crying sensation though.

I sank down on one of the benches and stared down at my shabby white sneakers. Diego had worn them when he was eleven. Now it was my turn. The door creaked and steps rang out.

“Leave me alone. I’m not speaking to you anymore. You keep embarrassing me in front of Savio.”

Brand-new stylish black and gold Nike came into view—a limited edition that cost more than Diego’s and my wardrobe together. I wished the ground would swallow me. “That’s what siblings are for, Kitty.”

I wanted him to go away, to spare me the mortification, but even now I craved his closeness. I looked up and his lips twitched. “Why are you here?” The snappiness I was aiming for turned into a hopeful whisper.

Savio’s mouth twitched again, making me self-conscious. “You fought against Remo. Geez, Kitty, most guys would have shit their pants in a cage with Remo, and you showed sass.”

I blinked, trying to figure out if he was pulling my leg. He held out his hand, which I took, and he pulled me to my feet.

“Diego is throwing a hissy-fit. Come on, let’s go back so I can kick his ass.”

“When will you fight me?”

“How about tomorrow?”

Tomorrow was Sunday, which meant church and family dinner, but maybe I could squeeze a session in. But Diego had to help Dad repair our stove in the restaurant. “Diego can’t take me. He’s got to help Dad in the Capri.”

Savio shrugged. “I can pick you up from church and take you back home. I need to work out tomorrow anyway.”

I grinned. “Great.”

His mouth twitched once more. “Maybe you should risk a look into the mirror before you come back out.” With that, he turned and walked through the door.

My stomach tightened in apprehension as I faced the mirror over the sink. I’d put on a hint of mascara and now it was smeared all around my eyes. I looked like a raccoon.

Diego was angry, but I didn’t care. “Dad won’t agree, just so you know.”

“What’s the big deal?”

He tossed me a glare as he pulled his rusty Ford Ranger up in front of our house. The scent of the cigarillos Grandpa had smoked still clung to the leather and ceiling, which was why Nonna refused to use the car—too much grief.

“Really?” he muttered. “The big deal is that you agreed that Savio would pick you up and train with you.”

“So what? He’s your friend.”

“Yeah, he is. I know him.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

I scowled. Before Diego had turned the ignition off, I jumped out of the car, grabbing the house keys, and tore toward the front door then locked it. I needed to talk to Dad first if I wanted any chance of getting his approval. Diego would only ruin everything. I ran past Mom who was vacuuming the living room, and into the kitchen from where the scent of Nonna’s famous rabbit stew wafted over to me. I stumbled inside.

Dad sat at the table, bent over bills, judging by the deep frown on his forehead. Nonna stirred the stew with a wooden spoon and sang one of the old Italian love songs that made Mom teary-eyed.

I hurried toward Dad, earning a disapproving cluck from Nonna because I usually greeted her first, but this couldn’t wait.

Dad looked up

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