He shakes his head. “I know that. I just meant…ah, I suppose it doesn’t matter.” He wets his lips before he starts explaining. “I didn’t have the best childhood. My mom was a junkie who sold her body for drug money. I never knew my dad. I don’t know if my mom even knew who he was. A john, most likely. Or maybe it was her disgusting pimp.” He shrugs, like it’s no biggie, but his body betrays him. His shoulders are stiff, his muscles tense, jaw locked. Telling me this is hard for him, and I’m guessing he doesn’t share his story often. That he trusts me means a lot. I briefly squeeze his hand in reassurance, urging him to continue.
“Mom was washed out by the time I was fifteen,” he continues, as we head toward the entrance to the park. “And that’s when she came up with the bright idea to pimp me out. I took off the night two johns showed up looking for a good time with me. I fought the bastards, trashed the place, and left. I never went back.” His chest heaves, and he averts his eyes, grappling with inner demons I can’t see.
I wait him out, realizing again how fortunate I was to grow up with a mom who loved me and in a rich family where everything I needed was given to me. Except for my father’s love, but it seems almost petty to feel neglected when there are people like Ben and Alesso who grew up with so little. Father may not have wanted me, but he provided for me.
“I lived on the streets for a while, barely existing.” His Adam’s apple jumps in his throat, and he looks dead ahead as he speaks. “Then I got into street fighting, and I found a way to use all the pent-up anger and frustration inside me for something positive. I made a name for myself. Got enough money to get a crappy studio, but I didn’t care. I had a roof over my head and food in my belly and a reason to live. One night, a bunch of jealous idiots jumped me in an alley after a fight. I fought them, but there were six of them and only one of me, and I was beat after my match. I didn’t realize Ben was there, and he saw the whole thing. His men killed the guys, and he took me to his place. Fixed me up with a doctor. Forced me to stay in bed and heal.”
We walk out through the gates as a couple I know approaches. We greet them before letting them pass. I’m sure my neighbors are wondering what’s going on with all the strange men coming and going from my house, but they are too polite to inquire.
“What happened next?” I ask, glancing at Alesso.
“Ben talked to me. He told me his story and how he saw a lot of himself in me. He gave me a choice. Explained aboutlafamigliaand the life of a soldier. He asked me if I wanted to be initiated and trained, and I didn’t have to think long before accepting.”
“And you clearly have some Italian blood flowing in your veins,” I say, in a nod to his name. “Which must have helped.” The mafia research I uncovered on the web suggested you have to be of Italian descent to be initiated.
Alesso steps aside to let a little girl on a bike pass us. Her mom is jogging behind her, and she waves as she runs past. “Actually, as far as I’m aware, I’m not Italian. My mother just liked the name Alessandro.” He shrugs, and I wonder if his father was Italian, because it’s not just his name. He has that look about him too with his Roman nose, dark hair, and brown eyes.
“It didn’t matter, anyway,” he continues. “Every crime family has their own rules, and while you usually have to be of Italian descent, Ben didn’t give a crap. He has drastically altered the way things run. He has modernized thefamiglia, and a lot of the soldiers are men hired through his private security firm. Not everyone has Italian roots though anyone without it won’t ascend any higher in the ranks.”
“Does that bother you?”
He shakes his head. “I like what I do. It was a great honor when Ben chose me as his personal bodyguard and again when he asked me to guard you. It demonstrates trust and loyalty. The same trust and loyalty I have for him.” Alesso halts on the sidewalk across from my house, stepping in front of me. “Ben saved me, and I would die for that man. He has my allegiance for life, as do you and Rowan. I would take a bullet before I’d let any of you get hurt.”
I throw myself at him, hugging him tight. “I know you would, and I appreciate it so much.”
Of course, Ben would choose that moment to step out of my house. His eyes find us almost instantly, and I pull back at the instant scowl that furrows his brow. I curse under my breath and let Alesso go. The one time I’m not trying to purposely annoy Ben through his bodyguard, and he has to see. Typical.
I skip across the road as Ben makes his way toward the familiar black Merc. Three men step out of the car, and Ciro opens the back door for Ben. Leo is not around today, which is strange, as Ben rarely seems to go anywhere without him.
“You’re leaving already?” I ask when I step up on the curb.
“I have a business meeting to attend.”
“I was hoping we could talk.”
“It will have to wait.” He’s all businesslike, and his cold mantle is firmly back in place.
Hurt shuttles through me. I don’t know why I’m surprised. This is the usual pattern with Ben. “Suit yourself.” I stalk toward the house, irritated I’m wearing my emotions on my sleeve again.
“Sierra.” Gravel crunches noisily as he steps up behind me. I stop, but I don’t turn around. His mouth brushes my cheek, sending shivers cascading across my skin. “Things are particularly tense right now. Please don’t take any unnecessary risks. I will call or text you about Thursday.” His fingers dance fleetingly in my hair. “Be safe.”
30
SIERRA
It’s the Wednesday after the charity ball, and the only time Ben has reached out to me is via text. It was a brief message, confirming he will watch theSkywatch Weeklyepisode tomorrow and FaceTime with Rowan after. There was no mention of us, and I don’t push the issue. Now that I’ve had time to reflect on it, I think Ben is right. There can be no future for us as a couple. Things are complicated enough as it is, and the last thing I need is to be more submerged in his criminal world. So, I lock up my heart and store the key in a mental lockbox.
A knock on my door surprises me, and I glance at the clock on the wall. I’m at work, and not expecting Dee, my next client, for another forty-five minutes. I penciled a free hour in today so I could catch up on paperwork and update my records in our patient system.
Opening the door, I find Alesso wearing a lopsided grin and holding two paper cups. He’s been hanging around inside the building all week, much to the manager’s consternation. I don’t know what’s going on in the big bad mafia world, but tensions appear to be running high, and Alesso and Frank have been extra vigilant. The guys are all sharing rotations at night so Ian can guard Rowan with Frank during the day.
I’m pissed Ben left on Sunday without filling me in. If things are bad enough Rowan needs two bodyguards while he’s at school, then I should have been informed. I was tempted to call him and raise hell, but I would rather wait until I have calmed down and talk face to face. Ben has dragged me and Rowan into this life, whether we chose it or not, and it’s about time I understood it better. I don’t want or need all the gory details—just enough to understand the risks more clearly.
“Green tea,” Alesso says, thrusting one of the cups at me.
“Let me guess. Another peace offering from Lucille?”
Our new receptionist still hasn’t gotten the hang of our computer system, and she has messed up a ton of shit in her few weeks here. Last week, she accidentally wiped out the records for ten of my current clients. Hence why I’m manually adding their records back into the system. Lucille offered to do it, but I don’t trust her. So, she has resorted to other means of making it up to me. I told her she didn’t need to buy me tea every day, but she seems insistent.
