“We do things our own way here. I don’t care what people want to call it,” he says with a shrug.
“And if I don’t want to be a part of it?”
“Then we create a new identity for you and send you on your merry fucking way. We usually do it when someone needs to get away from an abusive piece of shit we can’t get rid of without causing a bigger issue. Birth certificate, driver’s license, social security card, money, everything you’d need to start a new life.”
I can see how it could be tempting, but immediately rule it out. I’m a DeVille.
Out of curiosity, I ask, “What about the girls? If I don’t stay, who’s taking this job?”
“Ford until I figure something else out. Sully, if I can convince him to do it again. Fucker might run away, though.”
“God damn babysitter duty, huh? This what you assign everyone to at first? See how long before they beg you to move ‘em or kill ‘em? It’s not forever, right? That’ll factor into my decision.” I sit back and relax a little. Hell, that was even a little funny.
“The turnover rate is atrocious, and the pigs can only eat so much,” he deadpans. “I need eyes on them. We have enemies. I want my girls safe.” He cocks his head a little. “And you’re a trained fighter, Grim.”
That gets my fucking attention. And I definitely don’t know how to school my features. I canfeel,‘How the fuck does he know that’ show clearly on my face. Since there’s no use pretending I have no idea what he’s talking about, I own it.
“How the fuck do you know that?”
“You might not use your real name when you fight, but Dimitri called me the second you showed up to get the okay. And again when you wanted to start working security outside the ring when you weren’t fighting. I’ve kept tabs on you. You’re good, Luca.” He sounds almost… proud of me?
No one’s said something like that to me in a long time. I’m not sure my mom ever has. Dimitri and the trainers I worked with were interested in the money and crowds I brought in, but that’s it. I try that poker face thing again, but I can’t help shifting in the chair a little. The small praise makes me uncomfortable but also fills me with pride. I absentmindedly run my right thumb over the black ink on my left forearm. A line of mostly small stars and a few birds wrap around it fully twice and part of a third. Marco’s eyes follow the movement.
I clear my throat and drop my hand. “Is there something like that I can do here?” My voice is quieter than I mean it to be. Isound weak. Fuck. I clear my throat again and grab myself by the balls. Metaphorically or whatever. “Just fighting, not bouncing.”
He assesses me silently for a few seconds. “I think we can work something out. I’ll put Sully on it while you start shadowing the girls. You can use the gym we have here in the house. Let me or Ford know if there’s any equipment you want that’s not already in there. I’m going to put you in one of the bedrooms over by the girls. Otherwise, you won’t know what they’re up to half the time.”
Maybe this won’t be so bad after all. Or maybe being that close to Ariana all the fucking time will be torture. My money’s on the second one.
“Everywhere they go, huh?”
“Everywhere. Starting tomorrow. There’s a few weeks left of classes.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Classes? I came here to get out of going to college.”
Shaking his head, he gives me an exasperated look. “Calm down, I’m not signing your ass up for Shakespeare or some shit.”
“Am I driving them around?” I tip my head back and groan at the ceiling.
Marco laughs and stands, so I follow suit. The standing part, that is. “You can try, but Ariana will probably knee you in the balls and take the keys. She always drives because Lil’s terrible. The absolute worst. Embarrassingly bad. Totaled a few cars I bought them in high school, then decided to take my Porsche and wrecked it in eight minutes flat. Almost killed them both.”
My eyes go wider with every word of his last couple of sentences. “Why the fuck did Ariana get in the car with Lil?”
He claps me on the back as we turn to leave his office. This room has a harsher feel to it than the rest of the house, with its black furniture and general mafia boss vibes, but there’s still pictures of Mia and the girls on the walls. “Ride or die, they like tosay. Literally.” He rolls his eyes, letting down his mask a bit more. “Can’t live without each other. But that was the last straw, and Ari straight up won’t let Lil drive anymore.”
Thank god for that…
The girls are not happy with the plan. Nope, not one bit. They complain about it all throughout dinner.
“Dad. Seriously. We don’t need a babysitter,” Lil declares with a glare.
Marco sighs because they’ve already gone through this three times. “He’s not a babysitter. He’s security.”
“Sounds like a babysitter to me,” Ariana sing-songs. “If I’d been paying more attention walking out that door last night, we wouldn’t need a babysitter.” She stabs a tortellini with her fork and scowls at it like it personally did her wrong.
My hand itches to touch her face again, to lift her chin so she’s looking up at me. To check the split in her lip. But I can’t keep doing that. It was borderline weird the first two times I did it. I try willing her to look at me instead, Jedi-style.
It doesn’t work.
