The Holy Ghost - M.E. Clayton Page 0,19

Being only five-three to his six-one, I was on my toes as he crushed me, and I still couldn’t meet his height.

“I missed you so much, Frankie,” he mumbled into my hair. “So fucking much.”

“And I’m still pissed at you,” I choked out. “So fucking pissed at you.”

His arms tightened around me even more, if you could believe it, as he said, “I know you are.”

I blinked the tears threatening to escape away. Now wasn’t the time to hash out our differences. No matter how much I wanted to rip into him, telling him everything I’ve kept hidden all these years, I refused to cause a scene on Massimo’s hospital floor. I could tear into Ciro tonight at his house later.

His house.

Another pang hit my chest as it occurred to me that I didn’t even know where my brother lived. Even though the hurt and betrayal lay at his feet, the six years of separation lay at mine.

I pulled back and looked up at his handsome face. “Well, we have all night to sort it out,” I told him. “It’s been a long time coming, I think.” Of course, I hadn’t been having any of those thoughts until I talked to Massimo this evening, but I did know I couldn’t leave without making things right with my brother. He was all I had. And even if he has changed, he was still my brother.

His eyes searched mine, and he looked as if he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure. Then he glanced over my shoulder and took a step back. “Uh, Frankie, you’re not staying at my place,” he finally said.

“Then where am I staying?”

“With me.”

My entire body froze. It’s been six years, and though it’s been touched by age, I would still know that voice anywhere.

Phoenix.

The pounding in my chest was real, and the punch felt ten times stronger than when I had seen my brother. Maybe it had been naïve of me, but I really hadn’t expected to see Phoenix. There was no need. Reconnecting with my brother made sense. Having to see Phoenix didn’t. It’s been years. Whatever he’s done, whoever he’s moved on with, there was no need for us to see each other.

None.

And I knew every second that I didn’t turn around screamed of cowardice, but I didn’t care. These three were blindsiding me left and right, so if I needed a few precious seconds to collect myself, then I was going to take them.

And then his words registered.

With me.

I finally turned around and immediately wished I hadn’t.

Phoenix Fiore stood just inside the doorway with Luca at his back, and he looked better than any man had the right to.

Like Ciro and Luca, gone was anything that used to mark Phoenix as soft or young. Though he was two years younger than Luca and Ciro, one wouldn’t be able to tell it. Phoenix stood as tall as Luca at six-two and filled out just as strong. I used to always think that because we were the same age, Phoenix and I were sheltered from the darkness that surrounded Luca, but I was wrong. Darkness swirled around Phoenix like a wild mist that couldn’t be contained.

He was wearing a suit, much like Ciro’s and the one Luca had on, but that was the only thing gentlemanly about him. Phoenix stood tall with his hands in his pockets and his chin up in a challenge. He was waiting for me to defy him, but I was too busy taking in everything that was difference about him and everything that was the same.

Phoenix had the same dark brown hair but gone was the curl at the ends. It was now kept short and neat. Messy, but in that way most men aimed to style. His hazel eyes, bright with thick lashes, were clear and sharp as he assessed me, waiting for my reaction. They no longer looked like they crinkled in joy. And, like Ciro and Luca, his face was hard angles and clean-shaven. I also knew that if he smiled at me right now, dimples as deep as caverns would render me stupid. They accompanied a smile full of straight white teeth, unless something has changed about his smile in the past six years. And, just like Luca and Ciro, the suit Phoenix wore did nothing to hide what had to be a magnificent body underneath.

Growing up, Phoenix had never been a pretty boy, but once puberty hit, and he saw what his cut, muscular physique