The water was warm by the time I stepped inside, but not to my liking, so I turned one of the many matte black knobs on the wall before facing Ocean, whose expression was pensive as he drew me close. I didn’t even notice the sponge in his hand until he tugged on my wrist to lift my arm out in front of me.
“They’re not afraid because of something I’ve done,” he explained as he slowly ran the lathered sponge up my arm and back down again. “They’re afraid of what I could do once I have the power. Priscilla is…protective of Chiara. The two of them try to stay on my good side so that I’m not tempted to marry Chi off to the first abusive asshole who offers me the slightest advantage.”
“Why would they think you’d do that?”
“Because it’s what my father did to Priscilla. And what our great-grandfather did to his sisters—Priscilla and Chiara’s great-grandmothers.” Ocean flinched suddenly, but before I could ask what was wrong, he flinched again. “Argh. Shit.”
“Wha–”
“Argh! Argh!” He yelled while leaping to the other side of the shower, where he huddled in the corner out of range of the water pouring down like a rainfall. Ocean and I stared at each other with matching confused expressions when I continued to stand under the water while steam quickly rose around us, fogging up the glass wall.
I placed my hands on my hips. “What is wrong with you?”
“You don’t feel that?” he yelled.
“Feel what?”
“That water is scalding, Coby! The fuck are you trying to do? Give me third-degree burns?”
Rolling my eyes, I spun on my heels and quickly turned the knob until it was halfway between where he had it and where I wanted it. “Better?”
Ocean held out his hand to test the water, and I choked back a laugh as he returned to me. I didn’t want him thinking I did it on purpose, so I schooled my expression into a concerned one, and he smirked before letting out a laugh of his own and shaking his head.
“So your family is like old school, old school,” I remarked, picking up where he left off. I was even less convinced of how well I’d fit in with his family if they were still doing arranged marriages.
“It’s not about tradition. It’s about power. It’s about control.” Ocean moved on to washing my neck. There was a deep furrow between his brows, telling me he wanted to say more but wasn’t sure he should.
“Please continue,” I whispered, wanting to know more about Ocean’s family, and what I was getting myself into.
His gaze flew up to meet mine, and he seemed to understand what I was asking.
“Once James got a taste of it,” he said as he started washing my other arm, “there was nothing he wasn’t willing to do to keep it. My great-grandfather and his younger brother, Rory, left Ireland after Rory was caught having an affair with a married woman. When the husband confronted Rory in a bar and nearly killed him, James stepped in and saved his brother. What they didn’t know was that the man they killed was the nephew of a gang lord, who put a price on their heads. Nowhere was safe, so they fled to America.”
I inhaled when Ocean paused to dip the sponge between my legs.
And I say again…a girl could get used to this.
He seemed to need to take care of me—like he was proving something to himself—and I couldn’t help but wonder why.
“A few months later, James found his brother beaten and lynched, and he knew that he would need someone watchinghis back if he wanted survive, so he put together a crew. They called themselves the Brothers of Rory. At first, their aim was freedom, but they realized there was no such thing without money. They didn’t just need to survive. They needed tothrive. It was the Prohibition era, and while Black folks could own property and businesses, it wasn’t that simple—shit, it still ain’t—so James and his crew found their fortune in speakeasies. That evolved into smuggling, illegal gambling, prostitution…the list goes on. The Brothers of Rory became more than just a brotherhood trying to survive. They became an organization attracting attention—good and bad—and as their riches grew, so did the distrust among the founding members. The leaders didn’t trust that James wouldn’t eventually get greedy and cut them out since he was so big on blood ties, family, and building a legacy. My great-grandfather became a powerhouse, but he was far from invincible, and he knew it. Everything he’d built was being threatened, so he concocted a plan. The Brothers of Rory had been born from the loss of his brother—his blood—so he believed that bringing blood in was the only way to ease the tensions within the crew.”
Ocean inhaled deeply as if he wasn’t proud of whatever part of the story came next. It was even more evident when he stopped washing my stomach to turn me until I was facing away from him.
“As I told you, James had two unmarried sisters—Davina and Frances. He lured them over here with the promise of a better life and forced them to marry his partners. James also married and promised his partners that once children were born of their unions, their induction would become permanent—irreversible even by him.”
“And did they have children?”
Ocean nodded. “Many, but they still didn’t trust James, so his partners wanted to ensure they had backups if one of their children were to meet an untimely death.”
“How moving.”
“Once the first of the new generation was born, the Brothers of Rory became known as the Fola. Or as the streets like to unofficially call us—the Blood mafia. The only way in or out was to spill blood or give it—an offering only the Boss could accept.”
“Blood In, Blood Out,” I uttered, reciting theFola’s chilling motto. I’d always wondered what it meant.
“Exactly,” Ocean confirmed.
“Well, that’s a relief.” Ocean turned me to face him and then lifted his brows in question. “Honestly, I thought it meant you all stood in a circle, slitting your palms and pouring your blood in a golden chalice before taking turns drinking it.”
