stilled in my chest. I’d known we had to leave here, that our bubble was bursting and I couldn’t remain hidden away from the world on the side of a mountain forever. But fuck, I hadn’t expected my demons to catch up to me quite so quickly.
“It’s alright,” I murmured to Winter, trying to reassure her about the man who claimed to be my kin and who was waiting outside my broken door. I was at least eighty percent sure that was the truth too. The Romeros didn’t want me dead. At least not anymore. The real question was what did they want from me. “Get dressed,” I urged.
I took my own advice and grabbed a pair of jeans, tugging them on over the bandage I’d used to wrap my leg and cringing my teeth at the twinge of pain it caused. I let Tyson out of the bathroom, silencing him with a sharp whistle and stalking towards the front door.
I looked back to find Winter buttoning one of my plaid shirts over her chest, a pair of my jeans awkwardly belted around her waist. She gave me a fearful look, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to get rid of this house guest without at least some kind of conversation.
I hoisted the rifle in my arms and threw the broken door open, looking out at the man who I shared blood with and wondering if that even meant anything after all the things that had passed between us.
“Don’t call me Angelo,” I growled, taking in his expensive ski jacket and perfectly styled black hair. He had a pretty face, too pretty for a gangster with blood on his hands and darkness in his soul. He was clean shaven and clean cut, a far cry from me in my frayed jeans and nothing else with hair trimmed by a savage girl and stubble coating my jaw.
“It’s your name though,” Frankie said with an easy smile. “At least one of them anyway.”
I huffed out a breath which was neither confirmation or denial and lifted my rifle an inch to remind him he wasn’t invited.
“Are you going to introduce me to your lady friend or did you wear her out?” he asked, his eyes twinkling with amusement as his gaze slid over my shoulder to take in Winter. I didn’t like the flirtatious smile he tossed her way and I stepped out onto the porch before forcing the broken door shut behind me.
“What do you want?” I asked, not bothering to ask how he’d found me. The Romeros were like a pack of wolves, I’d always known I wouldn’t escape their hunt forever.
Frankie’s gaze softened as he looked at me, something in his eyes making me want to lay off on the angry tone I was using and find out more about who he was. I could even see something of myself in his features now that I knew to look for it. We had the same hazel coloured eyes, the same dark hair and even the shape of our jaws held similarities. Fuck.
“We just want our brother home,” he said softly, speaking for the others who weren’t here. Enzo whose reputation of fear and violence proceeded him and Rocco...the man who’d stolen my bride...
“You already have two brothers, are you really so keen for a third?” I asked, lowering my rifle and turning away from him. He didn’t want me dead. I already would be if that was the case. He’d snuck up on me and Winter while we were...busy...so he’d had the opportunity already.
“You know it’s not a numbers game,” Frankie muttered. “This, us, all of us, we were always meant to be banded together. We’ve been missing you for a hell of a long time, please don’t walk away from us now that we have the chance to reunite.”
The raw emotion in his voice made the words in my throat fall still. I ran a hand down my face and dropped onto the swing seat, ignoring the bite of the cold air against my bare chest as I looked up at the man who shared my blood. My brother.
“And what about your father? How does he feel about his long lost boy being raised by Calabresis and then just sauntering back into the fold like I was never gone in the first place?”
Frankie winced just a little, but it was enough to let me know that Martello Romero wasn’t exactly waiting with open arms for me back in