Page 81 of Contempt

He didn’t waste time coming into the apartment, and closing the distance between him and his brother. Diego stood perfectly still until Renzo was close enough for him to reach out and grab him, then he did just that. Once he had his brother wrapped tightly in his embrace, another part of his life felt like it had slipped back into its proper slot. Like once again, his world was righting itself back to the correct axis.

Everything had been messed up for so long.

Nothing had been right.

Slowly, Renzo was getting it back.

One piece at a time.

“Missed you,” Renzo murmured into his brother’s hair.

Diego held him tighter. “You never came to see me, Ren.”

He couldn’t.

He didn’t explain that—to Diego, it would be an excuse and not a real reason. It would be better for him to just not say anything at all.

“I’m sorry,” Renzo said, pulling away to stare at his brother. “But I’m going to do better now, okay? I’ll be around as much as you want me to be around, huh? I won’t miss anything if you don’t want me to.”

Somehow.

He’d make sure of it.

Diego nodded as his gaze drifted to the colorful ink coloring up the side of Renzo’s throat. “Did those hurt?”

Renzo laughed. “A little.”

Some more than others.

“Want to see a cool one?” Renzo asked.

Diego nodded.

Without a word, Renzo shrugged off his leather jacket, and tossed it to the floor where it could stay for the rest of the night for all he gave a damn. Lifting the sleeve of his T-shirt, he turned a bit to let Diego see the portrait he’d gotten done on his upper, right bicep.

Diego stilled. “That’s me.”

Renzo smiled. “Yeah, Diego. Rose sent me a picture from your first day of school—I went in and had it done shortly after.”

He was scared The League would take the photo away from him. They didn’t let him keep very many things, and even that photo … they’d kept that from him for a good month after he’d finally been given an address to use to let Rose send some things to him. Another thing he was made to earn, unfortunately.

It was only then that Renzo noticed the figure hanging back by the kitchen island. Lucia stayed on her stool watching them, and saying nothing. She was smiling, though. A lot like his sister behind him.

Renzo wondered if Rose was trying to play matchmaker.

He’d deal with that later.

“Lucia told me you’d always come back for me,” Diego whispered.

Renzo met his brother’s gaze again. “When did she say that?”

“A long time ago.”

Back then, he meant.

San Francisco.

The bad time.