“No?”
“I am in no rush.”
“Waiting for me to die?”
He held his laughter in. “I’ll find my rib in time. The woman who has it has taken good care of it so far. I am not yearning for it. Not yet. I chose well—and I do not even know her as of now.”
“Romeo.” I cleared my throat. “No one has told you.”
“Told me what?”
“You don’t choose her.Shechooses you. She has to return your rib.”
“She stolemyrib?” He sounded seriously perplexed by this. Troubled almost. “I did not give it to her?”
“Yeah,” I hid my face in the pillow to stop from laughing so loud that I would wakemysleeping rib. Myiremade of flesh, blood, and bone. “Women are the best thieves. It happens like—” I snapped my fingers.
“This is the truth,fratello?”
“Straight up, brother.”
“Subdolo.”Sneaky, he said, and then he became quiet, though his thoughts were louder than the waves and squallier than the weather.
* * *
When the nightmare came, it scared Romeo off the sofa. He fell to the floor with a loud thump and a curse. Then he crouched up, the knife he kept under his pillow held out in his hand, glinting in reflection to the pallid moon, swaying from the rocking of the sea.
“He’s going to kill us!” Scarlett wailed, glancing at Romeo, hair standing straight up and a demented look on his face.
“No.” I kept her face tucked into my chest. “It’s Romeo. Look at him.”
She shook her head in a frantic motion—she was too afraid to look. She had already squeezed the breath from my lungs. I felt completely helpless. I didn’t know how to stop them, or why she was having them in the first place. Tito thought they were brought on by stress—us separating for the trips, their van going off the cliffside, the parade in Ireland, Taylor and his men, the attack on Guido, Taylor and his men again, and all of the everyday stressors she dealt with.
Romeo swallowed hard, the noise loud in the still air, before he blinked. He eased the knife down, sticking it underneath his pillow.
“It is me, Sissy,” he said softly. “Are you afraid of my hair?”
She turned her face a fraction, peeking at him. “Yes.”
He smiled, his teeth whiter than the moon. “You know I can fix that. I have the best hair. Even nicer than my bigger brother’s.” He ran a hand through it, forcing it down. “Do you have a monster under your bed, Sissy?”
“In my head,” she said, cool tears running down my chest.
I kissed her temple, keeping her close, feeling her heart about to burst from her chest. Her hair was matted to her head, swirls of chestnut against her pale face, and her thin clothes stuck to her trembling body. Fear sweat.
“Ah! In your head or under the bed, same difference.”
“It is?” Her voice was so damn small. I wanted to reach inside of her head and destroy whatever it was that scared her. There’s no threat like the one you can’t kill with your hands.
Romeo pulled out the knife from under his pillow. He went back to the crouch position, eyes narrowed.
“Romeo,” I warned.
“Shh!” he silenced me. “I am on the hunt for this monster!”
Scarlett tilted her head further, watching him, as curious as ever.
“Be careful,” I told him, playing along. “He might want your hair.”
