“There’s your proof, Attie. You can argue with her, you can get mad and call her a liar, but I believe her. You know as well as I do that Dad had his cologne specifically made for him because he was too important to wear something everyone else did.” I rolled my eyes, some of the things my dad had lamented on seemed so self-serving now. But at one time, he’d been my world.
“It doesn’t mean—” Atticus started, and I did something I never thought I’d be able to do; I held up my hand, halting him.
“Save it. This is exactly what he does. Mind games. Whether or not it is him, it has to be taken seriously. If it is, then you need to prepare for that. If it’s someone impersonating him, then you need to prepare for that. Neither option is something you can sit on, and arguing whether or not Loren is right is wasting time. The fact that someone took time to target Loren, tell her things, and time their appointments to intersect with me are the things you should be concentrating on. Now, I'm going back out there to bid on some art, eat some cake, and then dance with Jude. Do you have a problem with that?”
Attie’s jaw ticked, and I watched him mentally fight with himself as his body relaxed. I waited, knowing it was important for him to accept me as a viable part of this family, not someone to brush aside.
He blew out a breath, and I glanced over at the others, finding Sax watching me with pride, Nicco beaming at me, and Loren going all misty-eyed again. When I landed back on Atticus, his eyes had also softened, and he pulled me into a hug. It was so uncharacteristic that I tensed at first. When I realized what he was doing, I let go of Jude’s hand and wrapped my arms around him. My brother, not the mafia boss, held me for a few minutes, his head in my hair as we stood there. I could feel his heart against my cheek and the way his body trembled slightly. He was struggling with this, perhaps more than I had.
“You carry so much, Attie; you don’t have to carry this for me. Thank you for doing it up until now, for showing me how to be strong and compassionate. But I can take it. I’m not a wilting flower,” I whispered.
“You’re not, and while I hate this for you, thank you for reminding me how strong you are. I love you, Imogen, and I want the world for you beyond this.”
“I love you too, and because of you, I have the world. I know you don’t want the mafia life for me. I don’t even know if I want it. But right now, I have my world, and I’m happy. Let that be enough for now. Let’s fight our demons together.”
He pulled back a little, grasping my arms as he looked down at me. “You’re the best thing to ever come out of this family. Your mother would be so proud of the woman you’re becoming. Thank you for reminding me how strong you are and how strength is different for each of us. Go, enjoy the party, and we’ll be out in a few.” He kissed my temple, squeezing my forearms, and I stored it away as a win. This was something I wanted to remember and replay over and over.
He let me go, and before I could take a step, Loren wrapped her arms around me too. Smiling, I hugged her back, enjoying this newfound affection in our lives.
“I’m so proud of you. I watched you, and you fought back against your memories, gaining control, and it was beautiful. I’m so honored to have witnessed it, even if I was the one to have caused it.” I shook my head, not wanting her to carry that guilt.
“No, Loren, don’t think that way. I’m glad you told us. Maybe I’m naive and just read too many books, but the bad guys succeed by creating doubt and fear in the heroes. Transparency and authentic communication are utter kryptonite to villains. You taught me that, too.”
“You know, you’re so right.” She laughed, and I squeezed her tight before pulling back.
“He chose you because he knew it would hurt the most, you know.” I shrugged, knowing it was true. “Either because he hoped he’d break you down by keeping the secret or causing this infighting. He underestimated you, though. But he got one thing right.”
“What’s that?” she asked, peering at my face.
“You’re our heart, and he hoped to stab us in it. The thing he doesn’t understand, the thing he’ll never understand. You’re not our weakness, but our strength. You’ve helped us all to become better versions of ourselves, even if some are slower to it than others.” I shifted my eyes to Attie quickly, but she got the message, and we both smiled.
“Thank you for that, for reminding me the smallest things make a big change over time.” She pulled Jude closer, holding both our hands. “Now, go and enjoy. We’ll be along shortly. Jude, put down the biggest bid on yours. I don’t want anyone else to have it.”
“It’s not for sale, Lor.” I watched as Jude blushed, my heart growing warm. He really was the sweetest boy.
We stepped away from the adult huddle and headed toward the door, with Topher following. When we got out into the hallway, it felt calmer, and any last dredges of tension fell away as we walked.
“That was pretty amazing back there,” Jude said, bumping my shoulder. My cheeks flamed, but I smiled, enjoying his praise. He cleared his throat as we entered the central area. “So, um, were you serious about wanting to dance with me?”
“I mean, yeah, if you want to. I don’t want to force you.” I kept my eyes focused, not sure I could take it if he made a face of revulsion or something. Jude was undoubtedly my best friend, and my feelings for him were complicated. Well, I guess they weren’t, really. I liked him. And at times, I felt like he liked me too. I didn’t have many normal interactions, though. We held hands at times, but was it only him being a supportive friend? We talked all the time, and I shared almost everything with him. I could be myself around him and never got bored of talking to him.
But what if that was normal for a friend? How did I know if it was more? He made my heart race and my palms sweat, and I often got butterflies when I first saw him. I cared what I looked like around him, and I couldn’t wait until the next time I got to spend time with him.
But did he feel that way? I didn’t know.
I knew Loren said I should say something. But each time I started to, anxiety overwhelmed me, and I swallowed my words, unsure of myself.
Perhaps I should read some different books to get a better perspective. The YA fantasy ones I tended to gravitate toward did nothing to prepare me for being a teenager with a crush.
“I don’t think you could ever force me to do anything. I mean,” he stuttered, talking fast, “not that you aren’t strong, just that I always want to do things with you. Wow, hope that doesn’t sound lame.”
Giggling, I turned my head, taking in his expression finally. “No, it doesn’t. So, cake first, then we brave it?”
“Yeah, though I have to warn you, I’ve never danced before, so I’m bound to step on your toes.”
“That’s okay. It will be my first time too. We can brave it together. So, what kind of cake did you pick out for this event?”
As Jude went into an explanation of the three types he’d chosen and why, I found myself smiling so hard my face hurt. My father might be back, but I wasn’t the same girl he’d once known. I’d climbed through the fire, fortifying myself with armor so tough, it would take a hell of a lot more to break me this time. I knew what it felt like to have people care about me, and now I had something to fight for.
My father had tossed me aside once, thinking my only use was my vagina. He made a vital mistake assuming women were weak and non-threatening. I’d be sure to show him just how wrong he was.
Dayton Mascro thought he had broken me once. He hadn’t. If anything, he’d shown me what I was capable of.
My tutor was a dumbass, but something he’d made me read the other day resonated with me, and I knew it was time to claim that part of myself.
“What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the master calls a butterfly.”— Richard Bach.
I was the master of my life now. It was time I showed my father just how deadly this butterfly could be.