“No.” I look her dead in the eyes. “Because, I saw her on the rooftop, Rosa. If I’d walked away, I’d have pushed her myself.”
Her lip trembles, just for a second. “So now you’ve made it your job to save her?”
“No. I made it my job to not be the reason she breaks, plus I know no matter what she's mine.”
She doesn’t say anything, just watches me. Still, scared, and hiding behind the wall she’s built since we were fifteen.
“You’re my best friend,” I say. “My shadow and my sword since we could walk. Don’t make me choose, Rosa.” I pause, swallowing. “Don’t make me choose.”
She finally looks down. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“You think I don’t know what this could cost us? What it could cost me?” I step closer. “But you think I’d pick someone whowasn’tworth it?” Silence. “I don’t want to lose you, Rosa. I don’t want to be in the middle. I want you by my side, because this girl, she’s not just a distraction. She’s already in this with us. I didn’t plan it, but now it’s too late. Iwanther and I want you to like her.”
“I do.”
“Rosa, we both know in this life I could marry an Italian girl, and families could still come for us. You know that.” She should she’s been through fucking hell because of this family, if anyone knows it’s her. “Rosa, this is our life, but I need you next to me too.”
She wipes her cheek, annoyed at herself for crying. “Fuck you, Matteo.”
I smirk. “You’re crying.”
“I’m mad. It’s different.”
“Still tears.”
“Shut up.”
I grin, and when she finally stands, she punches my shoulder like we’re back in the school yard. “She hurts you, I’ll kill her.”
“If I fuck this up, you can killme,” I tell her, making her laugh.
Rosa stares. “You really love her, don’t you?”
I nod. “Yeah. I do.”
She sighs. “Well, shit. I suppose I can have a girlfriend for a change,” She jokes. She’s never had a girl as a friend, it’s always been us three, and even now we’re even more protective over her, so anyone she talks to, goes through us first.
I sling an arm around her shoulder as we head back. I stop short, Milo’s on top of Aoife, pinning her hands.
“Do I need to ask?” I question. Rosa walks over to Marco and sits next to him.
Milo rises and helps Aoife to her feet. “I was teaching her knife skills,” he says. “She’s hopeless.” He turns to Aoife, smiles and says, “I’ll take over. Your boyfriend only understands fists.” I shake my head at him as I sit on the edge of the bed, Aoife following a moment later.
For the first time since this started, I feel peace.
In this room my brothers, my sister, my girl, nothing can touch us.
But the second we step outside, thunder waits.
We stepout of class into slanted Blackstone light. She’s quiet, shoulders tight, steps a little too fast like she’s trying to outrun the stares.
We head to the cafeteria, and I spot Marco and Rosa already seated. They’re laughing about something, Rosa’s phone angled between them, reaching the table, Rosa smiles at us.
“You two are the talk of the school,” Rosa says as we sit. Aoife tenses beside me, wire-tight. “They’re calling you Blackstone’sitcouple. No rivals yet.”
Aoife doesn’t respond. Conor’s with the Irish, watching like he’s memorizing our moves.
I lean closer to her. “You’re Messina now,” I murmur, low and meant only for her ears. “You should walk with your head held high.”
