SILENT VOWS

20

If I had to walk this treacherous path, I wasn’t doing it alone.

But Noemi was guarded. I would have to use just the right amount of force and seduction to keep from scaring her away. That had been the one surety holding my control intact. The second she was gone, I got in my car and drove straight to the gym. If I didn’t work out some of the homicidal energy festering inside me, I would explode.

As usual, Bishop was already there bullshitting with some of the guys. He ended his conversation as soon as he saw me and jogged over.

“Hey, man. I was just going to call you. Got that info you wanted back from my guy.”

I slung my gym tote over my shoulder and lifted my chin for him to continue.

“I ran through everything. Her school record and extracurriculars looked pretty standard. There was only one thing in the whole file that stood out to me, but it could be nothing.”

“Tell me.”

“Her medical records showed a broken collarbone and other contusions from the car wreck that killed her mom, but there was no real damage to her throat. A bruise from the seat belt but no physiological explanation for her loss of voice. The doc even had a note mentioning possible emotional trauma as a factor and said he recommended counseling to her father but didn’t go into more detail because she was technically an adult, and that would have been breaking confidentiality laws. I read all through the accident report, and everything seemed legit. The investigator wasn’t one of our guys, but nothing looked dodgy. Like I said, it may be nothing. Just thought I’d bring it up before I sent the file your way.”

Trauma. The crash couldn’t have been easy to process, but the woman I knew was far from traumatized. If her silence wasn’t physiological, what was the reason? Why would she go six months without a word, and why would her father accept her condition without question?

Something didn’t add up, and I was ready for an explanation.

“That’s great work, Bishop.” I clapped my hand on his shoulder. “I’ll get changed and meet you in the ring.”

“Let me rough you up a little, and we’ll call it even.” He flashed a megawatt grin.

“In your dreams, asshole.” I gave him a quick jab to the gut and ducked away toward the locker room when he swung in retaliation.

My shitty day was feeling marginally better. I still needed to blow off some steam in the ring, but I wasn’t quite so bloodthirsty. My focus had turned to strategy rather than annihilation. It was time to make the caged bird sing, one way or another.

Sante stood in the kitchen staring into an open cabinet when I came down the next morning. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t hear me approach until I was within reach.

I placed a hand on his shoulder, peering up at him questioningly.

He’d been staring into the cupboard that contained our coffee cup collection. Mom had been an avid coffee fanatic, addicted to an elaborate cappuccino routine she followed each morning religiously. In the summers when I wasn’t in school, I spent every morning in the kitchen with her, sharing her routine. Once she was gone, I couldn’t bear to have coffee at home without her. That’s why I’d first started my ritual coffee outings. I needed the caffeine fix, but without the side of heartache.

“It’s strange. Sometimes I almost forget she’s gone. I started to get out a mug for her like I was going to start the cappuccino machine, then realized what I was doing. It was muscle memory. Like my body had somehow forgotten.” He closed the door and looked down at me, his sweet brown eyes unguarded and rife with pain.

I knew how he felt. And I knew that no words would fix it, so I wrapped my arms around his middle and held him close.

God, I loved him so much. I couldn’t bear to lose him, too.

“Thanks, little big,” he said softly.

When I pulled away, I grabbed my notepad. Want to come get coffee with me?

His lips thinned. “You know Dad doesn’t like us to go out together.” Every word was wrought with inner conflict. Maybe this was my chance to help him see reason.

You know that’s absurd, right?

“He explained it to me, so I kind of get it. After losing Mom, he doesn’t want to chance us being out together and something happening to both of us at the same time. He’d be totally alone.” And that was why I adored this poor sweet boy. No matter how desperately he wanted to be a part of the Lucciano crime family and impress our father, his heart was made of pure gold. It made him seem naïve, but that innocence was derived from a purity I never wanted to see tarnished.

I nodded, wishing I could steal him away without harming that kind heart of his.

Thirty minutes later, I was seated at my coffee shop sipping a steaming cappuccino but hardly tasting it. I was still no closer to figuring out how to save my brother, and when I’d parted from Conner the day before, he’d been livid. I didn’t know what to do about any of it. A part of me insisted I needed to be patient, while another part screamed that I was running out of time.

Two weeks, and I’d be married.

I’d be out from under my father’s control but have less access to Sante than I already had. And while Conner would likely give me more physical freedom, I feared he had the potential to steal my heart and leave me even more vulnerable. No matter how I looked at my situation, it felt hopeless.