But suddenly, Josephine grew up, and our age gap didn't seem so wide anymore.I didn't see a goofy Fabre kid in scuffed sneakers and pigtails any longer; who she was becoming was heartbreakingly obvious—a stunner with expressive eyes and thick thighs that made my teenage brain short-circuit on a regular basis.
She no longer greeted me with a brief wave from a distance but would smile broadly whenever we saw each other.It was a smile full of white teeth that I began to wish was only reserved for me.I had to catch myself from staring at her for too long, from following her movements around a room like she was the only person who mattered.Her curves were suddenly becoming a dangerous obsession, and so were her whereabouts.
Unbeknownst to her, I was doing my best to keep every horny 17-year-old away from her, which wasn't too hard.Most of them were scared of me, the LaRoche boy whose family was in the mob, but every now and then, one of them would try to test me, and then I'd have to two-piece them in the jaw to get my point across.
Leave Josephine alone, fuckers.
She doesn't exist for you.
And you better not tell her I said that.
There was even some casual talk in our circles about how great it would be if there were an arranged marriage between the families.I didn't have any sisters for Leo to marry, so the coupling that made the most sense was me and Josephine.But before I had a moment even to register the possibility of that, Leo died.
Or if one goes with the Fabre family narrative—he was murdered.
And everything changed.
Josephine's father's rage fueled him to get out of bed every day and seek the destruction of mine.He was so sure that my father was responsible for Leo's death, and he had many other people in powerful positions who were convinced of the same thing.
I admit it looked bad.The last time Leo was seen, he was arguing at a restaurant with my father (and I was there too).But if having a heated argument with someone made a case for murder, we'd all be in jail, which is why the boss of our organization ordered a compromise.Because there was no concrete evidence of foul play, Josephine's father couldn't retaliate with force but was permitted to ask for some form of restitution.
My father protested, of course.He assured them that the last time we saw Leo Fabre, he was alive and breathing.But while no one could prove that he was lying, no one believed my father was telling the 100% truth either.
To be fair, my father has a reputation.He can truly be a slimeball.But on the other hand, you don't get ahead in this business by being an angel either.
We thought Josephine's father would ask for some obscene amount of money.He loves his foreign cars and his elaborate pool landscaping, but what her father covets most is control, and solidifying a union into my family would give him another tentacle of power in the underworld.
So, here we are.Bound to each other by a blood debt between our families, but not quite at the altar yet.
Because if I'm going to convince her that this isn't the end of her life as she knows it, what I need is for her to remember that there was once a time when she stared into my eyes and didn't associate them with the loss she's suffered.
I'm not sure coming here is having the effect I'd hoped for, though.
"Why the fuck are we here, LaRoche?"
"That mouth, Josephine."Acidic.Dirty.It's going to get her into so much trouble with me, but in the best way."Walk with me," I tell her as I lead her along one of the trails that wind through the park.
The ancient oak trees tower above us, their branches heavy with Spanish moss that sways in the humid breeze.Couples walk hand in hand along the paths, families spread picnic blankets on the grass, and somewhere in the distance, a jazz musician plays a saxophone for tips.It's peaceful here, removed from the intensity of the church and the weight of family expectations.
"I've had a minute to think about what you said," she offers after a few silent moments of walking.
"And?"
"I think if you really wanted to, you could help me disappear for good this time."
I sigh heavily."And why would I do that, Jo?”
"Because I don't want to marry you, and once upon a time, you felt the same."
She's wrong.I never felt that.I've wanted to marry Josephine Fabre since I was seventeen years old and stupid enough to believe that love could conquer the complications of our world.
I stop and move in front of her, towering over her short but curvy frame.In her sneakers hidden beneath that dress, she barely comes up to my shoulders.
"Do you want me to die, Josephine?"
Her eyes blink in confusion."What?"
"Do you want me to die?"
