Savage Pride

9

Nevio stands my bike upright and assesses the front wheel. “I don’t think it’s bent. Sometimes a fall like that makes the steering all wonky.” Z doesn’t acknowledge his brother. Instead, he looks up in search of something, then scoops me into his arms. I cling to his neck, taken by surprise when he lifts me off the ground. I’m a scrawny thing, but carrying me can’t be easy. He’s stronger than I thought. Even though I really appreciate him taking care of me, I don’t want him to think I’m a baby. “I can walk, Z. You don’t have to carry me.” “No, Isa,” he murmurs. “I got you.” I believe him. Z would never drop me. He sets me down on the bench of a nearby picnic table, then squats to look at my knee, slowly lifting my foot to straighten the joint. “How does that feel?” “Okay.” “How about you try to stand.” I nod and do as he says, putting weight on my hip. “I think it’s okay, just a little sore.” I sit back down and wipe the moisture from my cheek. Z reaches up and gently raps his knuckles on my helmet. “Aren’t you glad I had you wear that thing now?” he teases. I chuckle and roll my eyes. “I guess.” He joins me on the bench, and we watch Nevio skip rocks for a few minutes. Once I’m feeling better, I suggest we join his brother, and the rest of our afternoon unfolds as it would any other day. When I go to sleep that night, curled up next to my sister, I recall the feel of Zeno’s strong arms supporting me. I’m not sure why it comes to mind, except that it felt so good. I almost wish he were here now so that I could hear the thundering of his reassuring heartbeat. I fall asleep with that thought in mind, comforted by the fact that I have such an amazing friend. OceanofPDF.com I take each step upstairs with calm control. Zeno already stormed away—no one is watching me—but I refuse to look like I’m scurrying away with my tail tucked between my legs. I use the time to recenter myself and remember why I’m here. Zeno may be a d**k, but that’s irrelevant to me. He is irrelevant. I get a week to spend with my favorite people on the planet, and I will not let him ruin that. When I locate Gia, she’s moved to the bedroom next door to where I left her and already has the old sheets piled by the door. “Housekeeping,” I say in a sing-song voice, holding up the fresh sheets. “I was starting to think you’d gotten lost.” “Nah, only delayed a minute. Come on, let’s finish the bed next door.” I lead the way back to the unfinished room, and we fall into easy teamwork. “You know,” Gia muses after a bit. “I could get used to working with you. With Anna gone, we’ll need to take on someone new. You and I could get an apartment together nearby.” “As tempting as it is to be closer to you, school and Mom make that impossible.” “I figured, but I had to mention it. We could even hold off until after you graduate. I could do the extra work until then.” “Oh, no.” I grin. “If one of us is making a move, it’s you. I’m going to have my own bedroom now. We could share, like the old days.” Gia won’t meet my gaze. “I know how excited you are to have your own space. And besides, I hate to leave when Marca is still here,” she says softly. “Liv and Marca need me now more than ever. They need a good influence in their lives.” She’s not wrong, but I hate that the burden falls on her. I’m not bothered enough to volunteer myself, but I understand. “Livy may be a lost cause, as much as I hate to say it. I couldn’t believe how insensitive she was about Mr. De Rossi’s death right in front of Dad. All she’s interested in is getting her hooks in a man with money.” “Trust me, I know,” Gia grumbled. “As much as we want to help guide Marca, she’s an adult now, too. She may not even stay with Mom and Dad much longer. You sure the girls are the only reason you want to stick around?” I watch my sister closely. A delicate flush creeps up her neck. “Tell me something is going on between you and Carter,” I urge. “There isn’t, I promise.” “But you’d like there to be?” “Isa, he’s a wealthy widower, twelve years older than me, with two kids and a real estate empire. And I’m … me.” “And?” I gape. Her answering smile is so sorrowful that my chest clenches. “It’s just not meant to be.” She continues with her task, effectively ending the conversation, but my thoughts continue down a dark path. I hate that she doesn’t see her own value. Aside from her loving temperament, she looks like an angel on earth. While my hair is a sandy color, she’s the only one of us girls who managed to snag Dad’s blond hair. Gia’s long waves are spun silk, and her warm brown eyes shine with love and acceptance. She’s a few woodland creatures shy of being a living, breathing Disney princess. It baffles me that she doesn’t see the immense worth of all her amazing qualities. I would find a way to show her how the world truly sees her if I could, but my attempts would be meaningless unless she’s willing to believe in herself.