“Santo’s taking your ride home,” Tavi says sternly. Now that I’ve alleviated his concern a bit, he’s switching straight into leader-in-command and big brother mode. He’s five years older than me and never lets me forget it. He isn’t quite as overbearing as Romeo is at nearly a full generation older than I am, but he has his moments.
“I can drive my own damn car,” I protest.
“Oh yeah?” Tavi says. A muscle ticks in his jaw. “You got your keys?”
On instinct I pat my pockets. Goddammit, I forgot I gave them to my valet.
I shake my head.
Orlando growls, his eyes narrowed. “You missin’ anything else?”
“Yeah,” I say with a sigh.
“What?”
“I’ll tell you when we get in the car.”
“Tell me now.”
I’ve had it. I might be the youngest brother, but I’m not gonna be bossed around and bullied. I’m a full-grown man and I’ve got fucking rank in this family. “I said I’ll tell you in the car. Now leave me the fuck alone. I’ll tell you all everything, but Jesus, I want some privacy.”
Orlando slams his mouth shut, but when Tavi opens the car door, Orlando grabs me by the back of the shirt and practically shoves me in. I bang my head on the roof of the car and curse him out, but seconds later, Tavi and Orlando are in beside me. Orlando leans over and smacks me, hard, upside the head.
“Hey!” I smack his hand off me, but Tavi’s narrowed eyes warn me to hold back.
“You’re in so much fuckin’ shit, man, you’d better shut the hell up and listen.”
“You guys gonna fill me in?” I rub the side of my head and glare at Orlando. I’m no stranger to a hard fight and have knocked more than one set of teeth down a guy’s throat. I’ve defended my sisters’ honor, taught a few lessons, and questioned the fuck out of our enemies. But when it comes to my older brothers, it would be a battle to the death before any of us would concede.
“Please,” Tavi says, leaning back against his seat. “Why don’t you go first? Start at the drag race.”
I sigh.
“Fine. I won last night, best race of my life,” I tell him. “Kicked Tommy Bailey’s ass to the curb, and some other new guy I didn’t know.” Tommy Bailey’s a blond-haired, blue-eyed mobster dropout from Southie who likes to shoot up more than he likes damn near anything. He gambles in his sleep and puts all his earnings into the next sweet ride.
“Heard about Tommy,” Tavi says. “Now let’s talk about that other guy you didn’t know.”
Uh oh.
I shrug. “Young kid. Twenties? Figured he was home on spring break or something. Didn’t catch his name.”
“Ah, that’s right,” Orlando says, obviously seething. Shit. “You didn’t catch his name. You made a spectacle of a guy you didn’t meet, kicked his ass in a race, took his money, and partied the night away.”
What the fuck?
I don’t respond. Orlando shakes his head and mutters under his breath, but I don’t catch what he says.
I look to Tavi. “What the hell, man?”
“That no-name kid home on spring break? He’s the governor’s fucking son, dumbass. But you wouldn’t know that, would you? You went dark last night. So you didn’t see the pictures he posted of you online, the shit he drummed up about us on social media, or the way he told everyone you cheated your way to the win and need to be stopped? It’s all over the goddamn news.”
I blink in surprise. “What?” That makes no sense. “He said I cheated? He posted stuff online?”
Like the first rule of fight club, the first rule of drag racing is, we don’t talk about drag racing. It’s illegal and we like to keep it under cover, and anyone who’s anyone goddamn knows that.
“But you didn’t know any of that. You didn’t get the call when Romeo tried to reach you to ask you to come home and settle shit with the sore loser. To send a message. You let the Rossi family name be dragged through the mud all because, why? Oh, lemme guess,” Tavi says, as angry as Orlando now. “You were bangin’ some chick like the fuckin’ manwhore you are. You wanted one night where you weren’t responsible for shit, and here you are. Hungover, and alone, and clueless to what happened while you were gone.”
Okay, so it isn’t as bad as I thought it was. They have no idea who I was with, and I didn’t fuck up there anyway.
“Where’s your phone?”
Okay, yeah, it is still as bad as I thought it was. Shit. Forgot about the wallet and phone.
“About that.” I wince.
Orlando sighs.
“Romeo is gonna kick your ass,” he begins.
“And I’m gonna hold you down,” Tavi finishes.
CHAPER SEVEN
Emma
“Morning, Emma.” Julia doesn’t look up from the desk, a phone pressed to her ear as she waves at me. The administrative assistant for my department works around the clock but never fails to greet me.