a part we'd largely left behind when we moved here. We had minimal contact with the Pontarelli family until it was decided that I needed to go to school with Gaige for my protection, but even beyond my close friendship with him, there wasn't much to go on.
Gaige. I sighed yet again. He'd called me three times after Darien had spoken with his father, but I'd ignored every single one before texting him that I didn't want to talk. It wasn't a lie. I didn't want to talk, but mostly because I didn't know what to say. I'd never told Gaige about Hunter and the relationship we'd had before I left New York.
Back then, it hurt too much. I guessed it still did.
I knew I'd have to speak with Gaige when the sun came up, but I had no idea what to say then, either. I couldn't exactly blurt out “My first love held a gun to my head,” could I? While it stood to reason that it would be an excellent conversation starter, I doubted there would be an actual conversation. More like Gaige tearing out of me his name and going to find him to hold his gun to Hunter's head.
I knew mafia boys all too well. An assassin versus a prince: there'd be more bullets flying than you could count, and if either came out alive, then, well. That was a serious win.
I rolled onto my side, turning away from where my phone was tucked under my pillow, and curled into a ball. I snuggled deeper under the covers, and Rossi pounced onto the bed with two flashes of white fur and bright eyes.
He circled the space above my knees three times before dropping down into a ball and leaning against me. His body was warm and comforting, and I nudged him with my knees to bring him closer to my body. He obliged, but not without his cold, wet nose touching my hand beneath the covers. I pulled it out and scratched beneath his little white chin, and he rewarded my obedience with a low purr.
Little shit.
I smiled anyway. It was sad when the only person a girl could fully trust was her pussy.
Then again... Pussies didn't lie or cheat on you as long as you kept them happy.
I laughed silently at my own double-entendre thoughts. If my life weren't in danger, I'd say I needed a female friend my own age, and I needed her quickly.
I looked down at Rossi and scratched his head. He purred again, and it sounded deafening in the silence of my room. Still, I closed my eyes, because it had the calming effect of white noise. Maybe that was what I needed—a monotonous sound to drown out the clusterfuck of thoughts whirring aimlessly around in my head.
In fact, that sounded like exactly what I needed.
It didn't take long for Rossi's continuous purring to lull me into a state of half-sleep. I was in the weird place between asleep and awake, where I was totally conscious of my surroundings, but too far gone to do anything about them unless I was physically pulled from it.
It was the oddest feeling. It didn't do a thing to shut off my subconscious, either.
No, it kept going and going and going until I could barely breathe through the continuous loop of thought after thought after thought. The hint of panic rose in my chest, but I felt paralyzed in my half-asleep state, and there was nothing I could do to combat it. I couldn't stop the overwhelming feeling that everything had changed in the blink of an eye as it swept through me like a tidal wave, suffocating and intense.
Rossi pawed at my face. His claws weren't out, but the gentle scratch from their edges on my jaw snapped my eyes open. His bright eyes blazed in the darkness, staring down at me.
“I'm okay,” I whispered to him, scratching under his neck. “I'm okay, Rossi.”
He watched me for a moment longer before turning his back to me and curling back up to sleep.
Typical cat.
***
“We can't trust him.” Armo was sitting at the dining room table, which had become a meeting room, of sorts. He'd been throwing me disdainful looks with his dark eyes for the last thirty minutes. He didn't want me here, but since the Los Angeles crime family was so far down the pecking order, technically, I outranked him.
He fucking hated it.
I didn't care, because he wasn't my favorite person. And I swore