Mafia Princess

Chapter 4: Cold?

Jane's POV

I stood up. I didn't look back again. If I did, I wouldn't get in the car.

Jake opened the back door of the SUV for me. He didn't say anything. He just held it, like a gentleman in the movies, except his hand was shaking.

I climbed in. The leather was cold. It smelled new. Like no one had ever sat here before. I was so small the seat felt huge. My feet barely touched the floor.

Jake slid in next to me. Zachary took the front passenger seat. But before he sat, he turned and looked at me again. Really looked. His eyes went to my muddy shoes, my backpack with the broken zipper, the rosary beads peeking out of my pocket, the little lump in my pocket that was definitely not a rosary.

His jaw clenched.

"You cold?" he asked suddenly.

It was 32 degrees outside. "No?" I said, confused.

He shrugged off his jacket anyway. It was black, soft, too big. He passed it back to Jake. "Give her that."

"I'm not cold," I said again, quieter.

"Take it," Zachary said. Not mean. Not bossy. Just... firm. Like it wasn't up for debate. He turned around and sat down, but I saw his hands. White-knuckled on his knees.

Jake draped the jacket over my lap. It smelled like soap and something sharp, like mint. "He gets weird about girls being cold," Jake whispered to me. "We don't have any. You're the first one Dad's ever brought home. Ever. Mom died when we were born. It's been just boys."

"Oh," I said. I pulled the jacket around my shoulders. It went down to my knees. I probably looked like a kid playing dress-up. "I'm sorry about your mom."

Jake shrugged. "Don't remember her. But Dad... he doesn't do girls. Doesn't talk about them. Doesn't keep stuff for them. This is new for all of us."

Alexander started the car. No one talked as we pulled away from the gate.

I didn't look back. I looked forward. At the back of Zachary's head. His neck was tense.

But I heard Kuya Mark shout, "Ingat ka, Jane!"

And I heard Ben wail, "Ateeeee!"

And I heard Nanay, for the first time in my life, sob out loud.

We were on the highway before anyone spoke.

I hugged Zachary’s jacket to me. It was stupid. I wasn’t cold. But it felt like armor. Like Peanut, but bigger.

“So,” Jake said finally. His voice cracked. He cleared his throat. “You… uh. You like stuffed animals?”

I froze. Did he see Peanut? “No,” I lied. Too fast.

Jake blinked. “Oh. Okay. Cool. Just, you’re holding that jacket like it’s a teddy bear, so I thought—”

“I’m not!” I said, dropping the jacket. My face was on fire. “I mean. It’s nice. Thank you.”

Zachary’s head turned a fraction. Not enough to see me. But enough that I knew he was listening.

“Right,” Jake said. “Sorry. I’m bad at this. I’ve never had a sister. Never had a girl around, period. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. Do I not cuss? Do I open doors? Do I—”

“Jake,” Alexander cut in from the front. “Breathe.”

“I am breathing,” Jake said. “I’m just also panicking.”

“You’re scaring her,” Alexander said.

“I’m not scared,” I said quickly. Because Jake looked like he was about to cry. “Just… confused. And I’m not that small.”

“You are,” Zachary said from the front. First thing he’d said since the jacket. “You’re like… five feet?”

“Five flat,” I said, defensive. “And a half. Almost.”

Jake choked on a laugh. “Dude, she’s gonna kill you.”

Zachary finally turned around. His eyes did a quick sweep of me, like he was checking for injuries. Again. “Not trying to. Just saying. Dad’s gonna lose his mind. We’ve never had a girl in the house. Not ever. It’s all boys. All guns and suits and training. No pink. No dolls. No nothing soft.”

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked.

Zachary shrugged, but his eyes stayed on me. “So you know why everyone’s gonna stare. Why Dad’s gonna act like you’re made of glass. Why I’m…” He stopped. Ran a hand through his hair. His scar disappeared into his hairline. “Nothing. Just. Buckle your seatbelt.”

I was already buckled.

“Right,” Zachary said. He didn’t turn back around immediately. He just looked at me for a second longer. Then he faced front.

Jake leaned over. “He’s not usually this awkward. I think you broke him.”

“I did not,” I whispered.

“You did,” Jake whispered back. “He hasn’t given his jacket to anyone since we were 10. Not even me. And I was bleeding. A lot.”

My face went hot again. I pulled the jacket back onto my lap and hid my hands in it.

The rest of the drive was quiet. But every time I looked up, Zachary was watching me in the rearview mirror. And every time I caught him, he looked away.

Like something he can't touch.