“That’ll be him.”
Ma perked up like a bristling cat. “Who?”
“The Sicilian,” Cade sneered.
“His name’s Stan, Ma. I love him.”
“Love him? Jesus Christ, Kitty!”
“You barely know him,” Raisin protested, ignoring Lucas’s outburst. “Did he drug you or something?”
“No! Of course he didn’t?—”
“Or something,” Lucas ground out. “My prickly sister vacations in Key West and returns with the love of her life and more bruises than brain cells!”
“You’re lucky that it hurts to walk or I’d knee you in the balls, asshole.”
When another pounding sounded at the front door, amazingly loud considering the number of walls separating us, Ma’s brow puckered but she stepped over to the doorway to punch the video call button.
Upon studying the face on the screen, she asked, “Who’s that?”
“I’m Custanzu Valentini, ma’am. I’m here for your daughter.” He cleared his throat. “Catriona.”
Her brows soared but her gaze turned approving. “You the reason she looks like the back end of a bus?”
“Yes,” he said simply. “But not by my hands. I was betrayed, ma’am.”
“Betrayed. Ha.” Lucas crossed his arms over his chest. “Don’t let him in?—”
Ma pressed the buzzer. “I’ll be there in a second, boy. Wait for me.” To her eldest, she jabbed the air. “You’ll shut your piehole, Lucas, or there’ll be no food from me for a month! I want to know what’s going on and this lad seems willing to tell me.
“If I want answers from you, I’ll have to go three rounds of conversational gymnastics with you quoting Aidan O’Donnelly like he’s the gospel, and a mother has no patience for that!”
While Lucas’s mouth worked in outrage, Ma stomped off, and I scampered upright with a pained moan when I heard Stan’s voice.
“How can you love him so fast?” Raisin locked her eyes on me, but I had zero desire to justify my feelings.
In the bosom of my family, I was safe, but I felt so much better knowing Stan had come for me. That he was here.
When he stepped into the apartment, his gaze darting left and right, the second it fell on me, I burst into tears.
Like a girl.
I’d be ashamed tomorrow.
Instead, while my siblings gawked at me, I focused on him and held out my arms.
“Stan,” I warbled. “They wouldn’t let me call you. I’m sorry if you were?—”
“Duci,” he crooned. “It’s okay.” But he glowered at my brothers before approaching the couch.
Lucas, living up to his title of “Major Dick,” grabbed his arm to stop him.
“You can punch me later, Frasier.” Stan’s fists clenched. “Right now, your sister needs me. Whatever stunts you’re planning to toss at me comes second.”
“Let go of him, Lucas.” Ma whacked his arm. “There’ll be no fighting under my roof! Not unless you want me to take you down to the church first thing.”
“Ma, he’s the reason Kitty?—”
