It was as if the world had frozen around us and, for a night, had been ours alone.
That ice had melted long ago, even if it had preserved something between us, and after it did, it broke down a barrier between us and the rest of the world. Anyone with a pulse, or not, could come after what I swore to protect with my life.
The love for my woman and my family had positioned me there, in the spot that I was, for a reason other than admiration.
A feeling— a warning.
On this hot night, I felt a chill crawl up my spine, an eight-legged creature with ice cold feet. Eyes seemed to bore into my back, the spot on my neck where teeth would go, a fatal attack.
A strong wind blew, bringing with it a new scent—one I didn’t recognize. As quickly as it had come, it disappeared, leaving me to wonder if I had imagined it, or if someone lurked out in the darkness with me.
6
Brando
Over the next few weeks, the temperature rose, the humidity thickened, and we did our best to stay on and in the water as much as possible.
After what had happened in front of the dance studio, I took extra precautions with my family’s safety. The men had orders to be more vigilant, not to rest just because we were in a small town.
A stranger would make headline news in our circle, unless that stranger happened to be a rat and could blend in with the scenery.
Scarlett noticed. I’d explained to her what had happened, and she became quiet, but she didn’t comment on whether she had felt something was off too. If she had, she would have brought it to my attention without me asking.
If it was my wife alone, the possibility of that could be uncertain. She would’ve attempted to lure Nemours in and end the game. One of the worst feelings for the both of us was knowing that he lived, knowing that he watched, and not being able to capture him.
He taunted. Cat and rat. I was the cat, and he knew it. One day, I’d be bringing his heart home to lay at my wife’s feet. I hoped he fucking knew that too.
He was no fool, though, even if he could be reckless. He’d taken a chance by showing up in Venice when we had been ambushed on the bridge.
Occasionally, Scarlett would say that maybe the water had taken care of the issue for us—some awful infection he developed from the water, killing him. We both knew the thought was wishful thinking. Nemours laughed in the face of infection. Or as Scarlett sometimes said,he’s an infection on humanity.The kind immune to antibiotics.
A deep thumping, one to rattle windows, caused me to pause pushing Marciano on the swing. Scarlett had gone to lunch with all the women, and she’d taken Mia. Wanting to wear my sons out, I decided to take them to the park.
Casting a glance around, I saw Matteo sitting on a bench sheltered by a tree, keeping an eye on things but not participating. Mariano had somehow found a few kids around his age to run around with. Kids of people Scarlett and I had gone to school with.
Their fathers hovered around me, talking amongst themselves. Our conversation about cars and living abroad had hit a lull after the sheriff showed up with his wife and kids.
Things were about to get even more interesting. Romeo—the source of the deep thumping and rattling windows—was pulling up with his kids, some song blaring from his custom-designed SUV.
The guys around me lowered their sunglasses as Romeo emerged from the driver’s side, looking like he just stepped off an Italian runway, and opened the door so his kids could file out. Three sons, all with their father’s flare for making an impression.
Angelo paused, eyeing the playground, running a hand through his hair before he started for Matteo.
“Is he going back to Italy?” one of the guys said.
Mitch laughed. “Why? Afraid your wife might faint from the rush of attraction?”
All our faces seemed to turn in the direction of their wives, who were all staring, open mouthed, as Romeo made his way toward us. Though the situation between the sheriff and Romeo felt unsure, I was glad his appearance took the heat off me. They had all been giving me shit about their wives only coming because I was there.
It was our guards too. They dressed for the job, in custom suits, and were not inconspicuous. Especially when their mouths started to move and rapid Italian flew out.
Romeo strutted up, shaking all the men’s hands. Mitch introduced him to the men he didn’t know, and he nodded at the ones he remembered.
He plopped his youngest son on the swing next to Marciano, and the two swung side by side. Matteo and Angelo were occupying each other, and Romeo’s second born was following whatever Mariano had going on with the cluster of kids.
“Is he going to be a problem?” Romeo asked me in Italian, giving the sheriff a sly nod.
I rolled my shoulders, noticing that his sons had decided to join the kids Mariano had started to play with.
