with no ties. But he was determined to get me to change my mind.”
The words came easy for her but at a price. Maggie Beautiful had always symbolized everlasting childhood to me, from the way she spoke to the way she danced, to her carefree attitude toward life. The hardships that she had endured, just how deep the abandonment ran in the lines of her face, were never more apparent in that moment. Her parents. The man she had loved. Still loved.
The truth was hard to ignore.
More than anything, though, a nagging sensation told me that I was missing something about the Fausti famiglia. Even though Maggie Beautiful was more open about discussing them, she still held back. But right now, the Fausti famiglia was the least of my problems.
“I’m so sorry, Maggie Beautiful.” I stroked her head harder.
She laughed; it sounded a bit manic. “The beautiful here is that Brando loves you more than he loves himself. Or he wouldn’t be putting you first. The tragedy of the situation is that somewhere deep inside of him, he sees what I could have been in you, and he sees what he could be in Luca. That’s why he goes to see him from time to time, for the reminder. How tragic is that?” Her voice dropped. “He’s never created such a scene before. I’ve never seen him lash out like that. He—I don’t even know what to say about that.”
Her eyes turned up to meet mine, and she gave me a hard look. “I know you love him, Doll. I know you do.” She tapped her front tooth with a pointer finger. “And there’s no easy way to say this. But I need you to promise me. Promise me that you won’t give yourself to him. Does that make sense? If you give in, you’re going to lose a part of yourself, a part that you’ll never be able to get back. When a girl truly loves, once she gives that part of herself to a Fausti, there is no turning back. There is no tomorrow. You’ll always be connected to him—”
I looked away from her, not sure where to place my eyes. She shot up, her body bouncing from the sofa to the floor. She stood, hands on hips, breathing heavily, staring down at me.
“Doll…” She slapped at the tears on her face. “Oh, I should’ve known. I should’ve said something sooner… But I was sure he wouldn’t. Not with you. Not…” She hiccupped. “The eyes strike again.”
Neither giving her confirmation or denial, I shook my head.
She swallowed hard, the tears coming faster, and then she cursed as she made her way into the kitchen. Cabinets opened and slammed, cups and plates jingled, bottles clanked, and then an explosion of glass.
I jumped from my spot, coming to stand in the doorway of the kitchen. Her tears hadn’t slowed but the profile of her face seemed set in stone. She picked up another empty bottle and hurled it at the wall. She turned to me, face as fierce as the sun attempting to break through dark clouds.
“We’re out of drinks. And, oh hell, I need a drink!”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Scarlett
His rejection was my disease, his acceptance my cure. Unfortunately, the diagnosis was terminal.
Looking back, the bar was not the brightest of ideas. But I couldn’t allow Maggie Beautiful to go alone. She seemed too fragile for her own good. I teetered on the edge of madness myself, but focusing on her seemed to absolve me from wallowing while in her company.
Two flannel-wearing macho men picked us up, and I didn’t even bother with names. They were intimidating. Guy two, who I dubbed Possessive Eyes to keep them straight, seemed to take a liking to me. He seemed to think we were on a date. I was too uncomfortable to contradict him.
We ended up at a bar on the edge of town, The Road House, and for a Thursday evening it was packed tight. Brando’s truck was parked in the lot, but my hopes were smashed when he was nowhere in sight.
Poisonous Dawn played in the background. Mitch and Jane were halfway through a duet. To keep distance from Possessive Eyes, I huddled myself in with the crowd around the stage, hoping to become invisible.
Mitch happened to look down, just as I sidled in, found me, and his voice faltered. He scanned the room while he tried to cover his blunder. A few moments later he skirted to the end of the stage,