Chapter 147: A Real Man
- LUCIANO -
There is nothing at the cemetery to suggest that anyone was lingering around—not in the Mobius area where Jansen and my Zia are buried and not in the area where Raya was looking. But that fear in Raya’s eyes was real. She didn’t imagine what she saw. I know fear. I know what it looks like, and there aint no way someone close to my family is going to be the victim of a damn stalker, not when I’m around. Not ever again.
Had I been old enough and known that Nonna had a stalker, I would have taken him out without putzing around like some hopeful fuckin idealist, assuming he was just someone with a harmless crush or that eventually that crush would fade and he would back off. I’m not afraid to wipe fuckers like that clean from this earth. The guy who killed Nonna would have been in the ground before he had even the slightest chance to get to her.
Not only are creeps like that predators in the worst possible way—going after women and children—they’re cowards. If you want to be violent, take it out on someone capable of at least putting up a decent fight.
And don’t take it out on women. Not ever. They’re the mothers, the grandmothers, the matriarchs that hold everything together with love when the rest of the world is so dark and brutal and unforgiving.
Be a man—a real man. Don’t stalk around in the shadows, afraid to show your face.
I’m fuming driving to the damn country club, pissed that I didn’t notice the guy when I had the chance. My hand slams against the dash in frustration, and I growl, gripping the wheel until it groans under the force.
How did I not see him? Creeps like that are who I’m always watching out for, and Dex told me that his girl has a stalker. Someone lurking in the shadows should have caught my attention right away.
And how did he get away so fast? I didn’t see a car or anything. I didn’t see tracks. No discarded cigarette butts. No flowers on a gravestone. Nothing. No clues.
I guess I was too damn distracted by the sister. Rory. She is like a flame that possesses me when I see her, entrancing me with the fire in her voice, in her body, in the hateful flash of her eyes. All those things turn me on. But there’s a little voice of caution in the dark recesses of my mind, telling me that she is different.
I’ve had plenty of women. Some would argue that I’ve had too many. But Rory... I wet my lips and groan again for a different reason. There’s something about her that makes me uneasy. Rory’s reactions to me aren’t simply because she’s a fiery little thing or because she is protective of her sister—all things I respect and admire. There’s something else, though. Something more. A darkness in her that mine recognizes.
She’s been hurt, and my stomach coils in fury at the thought. But I know it’s true. Somehow I know. Rory’s sweet, beautiful fruit that I long to sink my teeth into has been mistreated and bruised at some point. And recognizing that only makes me more pissed about this stalker getting away today.
I want to take that fury out on someone for reasons that even I don’t recognize. Why should I care about this girl? It doesn’t make any sense. I don’t make attachments. I don’t get too involved. I don’t even fucking KNOW her other than that she’s Dex’s girl’s sister.
When I finally pull up to the valet at the country club Jansen belonged to, Dex is waiting by the door. I smirk when I see the flash in his eyes. The good boy has shed his baby skin, and the hunter is here, ready to strike, ready to draw blood. He’s waiting to know if I found the mysterious lurker, and even though I didn’t, I certainly intend to.
"No luck," I tell him, walking to his side. He clenches his teeth and glares into the distance. "Don’t worry, cuzzo. Go visit with the people waiting for you. No one is getting close to Raya. Not today. Not when your family is here."
I glance over the side of the building that stretches on and on with a small lake visible on the far side. It’s that strange modern architecture that I don’t understand. Why remove ornate details? Don’t they add to the beauty of a building? To culture and history? This looks like its inspiration came from a damn shipping crate or box car on a train. It’s hardly opulent. But at least it’s simple—not many places to hide.
"I doubt any outsiders can get in here, right?" I ask. "Places like this are pretty secure to protect all the rich folk."
"You’re not rich, Luci?" He asks, making me grin.
"It’s a different crowd, Dexy," I wink and slap him on the shoulder. "Unless there are politicians looking to be corrupted, then I’ll mingle. Besides, you know we have our own security."
"I’ve told some of the staff to be extra vigilant," he says, his voice hinting to something cold and hard and threatening.
I love it. This Dex is a dream come true to me. Maybe I should thank the cowardly piece of shit stalker before I kill him.
Obviously Lawson has something to do with this new, improved Dex, too. But I wouldn’t give that guy the satisfaction of any gratitude. He’s full enough of himself as it is. He would probably take it as an actual badge of pride and claim bragging rights. As big of a pussy as he is, I doubt even the beating Dex gave him did anything to deflate his ego.
"Zio checked up on my brother," Dex says like he’s reading my fucking mind. "The doctor’s still got him."
"He wouldn’t be in any condition to show up to something like this," I muse. "Not with how you left him. It would hurt his pride too much if he wasn’t the prettiest one at the ball."
"You’re right about that," Dex says, his lips twitching. "But something about this doesn’t feel right. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want Raya to be here."
"Then leave," I say, shrugging my shoulders and burying my hands in my trouser pockets. "You don’t owe anyone here. This is your day to mourn your father. You don’t need to be distracted."
Dex sighs, working a muscle in his jaw as he stares at the pavement. I’m getting the distinct feeling that he doesn’t want to go back inside.
"Or DO you need to be distracted?" I ask with a chuckle, eyebrow raising. "That’s okay, too."
"Since when did you get wise, Luce?" He raises his chin again, eyes narrowed at me. But it’s not me he’s glaring at. No, his anger is for something else. That I can understand, and I definitely don’t take it personally.
"I have someone to distract me," he says then, casting his glare out across the manicured lawns. "I need to stay for my father today. I may not owe anyone else, but I owe it to him. And his other son isn’t here."
"Lots of questions about that, I imagine," I smirk. "Where’s Lawson’s mother?"
He shrugs. "I don’t know. She was living abroad last I heard. If she’s not here, it must be because Lawson told her he wasn’t coming and she had better things to do. It does surprise me, though. Her son takes after her. She doesn’t usually miss a chance to soak up some attention, especially at something like this."
"Well, no offense to your late father and this very fine establishment," I say, changing the subject away from Lawson. As much as I hate him, too, I doubt Dex really wants to focus on him right now. "I don’t trust the security. I wish we could have brought some of our guys. I can still call them if you like. It shouldn’t take too long for them to get here."
"No," Dex shakes his head.
"Dexy, the only favor I will ever ask is that you bring Rory around so I have a fair shot," I grin.
It’s the truth. I don’t believe in manipulating family. I would never do that to my cousin, not when I want him to choose to get more involved with the family on his own. He would be far more useful in a willing role rather than in one that was forced.
Pa might require something of him eventually because of how he had to make a request outside the family. But Dex has nothing to fear when it comes to my help. He’s like a brother. A brother that has been far too sheltered, but a brother all the same.
"If it’s just one guy and I keep an eye on Raya, then it won’t be a problem," Dex says. "But I do appreciate the offer. Seriously," he adds, the darkness in his eyes thawing slightly. "Thanks for being there at the cemetery and checking it out."
"I should have caught sight of him myself," I admit, fists clenching in my pockets.
"Me too," he sighs. "I won’t miss him again."
