Ariana
My whole head fucking hurts. So does my hand. And my foot. I probably shouldn’t have kicked that jackass so many times in these flats, but he fucked up my face. And my shoes.
I’m trying to ignore what else is going on in my body, but it’s hard with Luca right there in the driver’s seat. My seat. His eyes constantly go to the rearview mirror, like he’s checking to make sure I’m still here or still alive or… something. I don’t know. It’s kind of a glare and kind of a caress. I’m pretty sure I love it even though it’s confusing as fuck, and thinking about it is making my head hurt more.
It’s also kind of turning me on.
So, I’m ignoring it. I don’t catch feelings for anyone, and I’m not about to start with Lil’s cousin. Fuck, I mean, he’s Dad’s nephew, for hell’s sake. Big nope. No thanks, not happening.
But I can’t keep my mind off of him. Or my eyes. He’s got to be a foot and a half taller than I am and must live in the gym. His jaw is strong and square, his lips are full, and there’s no way hisnose hasn’t been broken at least once, and those things come together to create a face that’s ALL the words for attractive. His dark hair is just long enough to grab if I were so inclined. Not that I am. I’m not. I do not want to grab his hair…
How would someone not notice the corded muscles in his arms and the way his shirt stretches across his chest? He’s like a romance book character come to life, and for a second when I first saw him get out of Dad’s SUV, I thought maybe I was hit harder than I realized and hallucinated him. Shit… from that very first moment when his blue eyes met mine, it’s like something inside me came alive. Instead of being terrified when this giant of a man came storming toward me, I felt safe. Then he touched my chin—gently, as if I was made of glass. He stood staring down at me like… like something my brain can’t even process right now. I don’t know how to deal with any of it, especially with this headache. So, denial it is.
Lil is blabbering on about the movie we didn’t really watch. Rambling, because that’s what she does after panic mode. She rambles a lot anyway, but I can tell the difference between normal Lil rambling and recently-freaked-the-fuck-out Lil rambling. She’s trying to keep herself from crying by jabbering, and that’s fine by me because crying Lil is pretty much the worst version of Lil.
I lean my head back and close my eyes for a few minutes. It’s a short drive home really, even with Lil’s horrible navigation skills. “The guy and girl don’t even end up together at the end of the movie, so what the fuck… Oh shit, you were supposed to turn there.”
A little snort-laugh leaves my mouth.Fuck, that’s embarrassing.“You’re terrible at this, Lil.” I try to focus on drinking my shake without hurting my lip. It’s worth the pain, though. Shakes from Gordie’s are special. Everyone says they’re the best shakes around, and they’re right, but for us DeVilles, it goes beyond that. They’re our ultimate comfort drink.
Lil gestures toward Luca. “Hey, maybe if this dickhead ever visited, I wouldn’t have to give him directions to our house.”
The dickhead in question mumbles something I don’t fully catch, but it sounds like, “Mom doesn’t… grumble grumble… visit… grumble grumble… Marco and Mia… grumble.”
We pull up to the guardhouse outside the tall ass wall that surrounds the property. Dad must have called the guys ahead of time because they only do a quick check of Luca’s driver’s license before opening the gate.
“Damn, Ari!” Stew bends to look through Luca’s open window. We might not know every single one of Dad’s men by name, but we sure as hell know the ones here at the house. The guards are usually some of my first testers for new recipes. It’s fun to throw cupcakes and muffins at them like grenades as we drive by. Stew’s been around for a couple of years and is a harmless flirt. “You okay?” he asks me.
“Do I not look okay?” I ask as innocently as possible.
Stew grins. “Yeah, you’re fine, smart ass.” He stands up and taps the roof of the car. When Luca doesn’t start driving, Stew glances at him and pales a little before backing up. “Uh, go ahead.”
Luca rolls up the window and pulls forward. I can’t see his face, but the tension coming off of him is almost visible.
Huh. That was weird.
But I don’t have time to keep thinking about it, because Mom’s standing on the front steps, wringing her hands. My chest tightens with guilt. I hate when she worries. She’s next to the car before we can open our doors and pulls me in for a hug as soon as my feet hit the ground. Her hands rub along my back in the way that’s soothed me since I was a kid, and I sigh happily, snuggling into her.
“My babies,” she says in a quiet, almost broken voice. I breathe in her soft, familiar perfume and wrap my arms around her waist.She didn’t give birth to me, but that’s never mattered to any of us, and she’s the best mom anyone could ask for.
“We’re okay, Mom,” I whisper. “I’m okay.”
She pulls back and lightly cups my cheeks, taking in my injuries. Fire fills her eyes. Mom’s sweet, but she’s a fierce mama bear.
“You should see the other guy,” I joke, trying to make her smile.
It works. It always works.
“Yeah, he looks a lot worse. Ari kneed his junk into his throat, broke his nose, and shot him in the knee… possibly his dick, too.” Lil tilts her head and shrugs. “Who knows? Then we kicked him while he cried and begged on the ground, so I’m calling it a win for us.” She grins before taking a sip of her shake.
“Good girls. Come on, let’s have Doc take a look at that head wound.” Mom nods in Luca’s direction. “Luca, thanks for getting my girls home to me.”
He nods back at her before his eyes drift my way again.
“Ford will show you to the shed,” Mom says, smiling fondly at Dad’s second-in-command as he strides over from his SUV. To most, he’s Ford James, Marco DeVille’s underboss. To some, he’s the boogeyman. Don’t say his name three times in front of a mirror in a dark room, urban legend bullshit. He’s the big bad wolf. A ghost.
Really, he’s karma. But he’s Uncle Ford to us.
“You good, Airhead?”
