“Um, what’s everyone doing here?” I asked.
“Mom called in the troops,” Azzura said as she tied off a garbage bag. “You had nothing in your fridge.”
“So, we stocked you up,” Bianca called out from the kitchen.
“I changed your sheets, for what looks like, maybe the first time? Ever?” Frankie said, then shuddered. “I wore gloves.”
“We’re doing laundry now,” Angelica said. “I kind of took all the machines downstairs. Hopefully, no one freaks.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” I smiled. “Love you guys.”
“Aww,” a chorus of female voices sounded, and then all four of my sisters were surrounding me and gently wrapping their arms around me.
Mom watched from the kitchen, tears once again slipping down her face.
* * *
Waverly
Two weeks. Two weeks without Gio. Or Razor. Whatever his name was.
I wish I could say things had gone back to normal, and I didn’t miss seeing him at the clinic, or at Connor and Maisie’s. No, sorry, Hatch and Maisie’s.
Or running into him at the store. Or having him in my space.
But it hadn’t been normal.
It had been two weeks of total hell.
I couldn’t sleep. I’d barely eaten anything. I was subsisting on wine and Cheetos. It was a miracle I hadn’t turned orange.
Or contracted scurvy.
I’d texted Lennon and asked her to call when she could, but nothing yet and I was going crazy with the wait. I mean, I get it. She’s working weird hours, and she’s in Africa. But I needed her, goddamn it!
As I dragged myself home Friday after an excruciatingly long week, I grabbed my laptop and decided to do a little digging.
I started with the Dogs of Fire Motorcycle Club. And man, did I go down a rabbit hole there.
If the interwebs were to be believed, they were saints. They did a charity drive for kids every Christmas, and didn’t stop there, often helping an organization by the name of Bikers for Kids who helpedchildren being bullied at school.
They’d ride their bikes to the school, and take that kid home, or ride with them to school, and sometimes hang out, making friends with other kids, making sure everyone played nice.
Gio had said they owned different businesses, and it took me a little while to find them, because they weren’t listed under the club name, but rather, a subsidiary, but I found it because it was apparent they weren’t trying to hide anything. They were probably just trying to keep things separated and above-board.
I then did a search for Gio Rossi and not a whole lot came up because he didn’t have a social media presence, other than what was on the auto shop and professional pages. There was one video of him showing everyone how to change their own oil, and I’m embarrassed to admit, I watched it ten-million times because if I couldn’t admit it to him, I sure as hell needed to admit it to myself.
I was stupid in love with the man.
Watching him in all his powerful glory, without any injuries, actually teaching us how to change the oil on a car, made me want to go outside and change my own damn oil. He was funny, he was self-deprecating, and he was so fucking gorgeous, it hurt to look at him.
And yet, I continued to replay the video.
Over and over and over.
Because I couldn’t find anything on the social media front, I decided to pay for a background check, and it found nothing. Not so much as aparking ticket for the man.
He was clean, as they say.
