Alessa edges closer, carefully, like I'm going to run off if she spooks me, then sits at the edge of the bed. I don't look at her, but I don't chase her away either. I'm not sure what to fucking think. I haven't bared myself like this to anyone in a long time.
“I don't think that's stupid at all. Kids are better off with their dads around. But you're just a few years older than me. Isn't there a way you can find him again? Figure out who he is? Maybe one of the DNA kits?”
That questions fucking haunts me, but only because of how impossible it is. “I know exactly who he is. Mom knew who he was the whole time. He lived in the same fucking neighborhood. Used to ride his motorcycle up and down the street, showing off for us kids. He got a huge kick out of revving the engine for us and showing us how fast he could ride it down the street. I was nineteen when I found out.”
“So what happened then? Why didn't you—”
“Because there was no family reunion. He ran his bike into a truck at an intersection. Died on impact. They had to scrape his fucking remains off the side of the truck. Mom got drunk off her ass when she heard the news and let it slip that night.”
“Oh God.” Her breath hitches. “I'm sorry.”
“I told you not to say you're fucking sorry.” I say it, but my voice has lost its bite.
She crawls up on the bed, close enough to touch. “Can I hug you?”
“Not this shit again.” But I don't have the conviction this time. Maybe I don't want to fight it quite so hard.
“I'm going to hug you.”
“Fuck.” But I don't stop her as she straddles me. Feeling her soft thighs on either side of mine brings back other memories, but then she leans forward, wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me in. And I can't fucking help it. Something loosens in me, something I didn't even fucking realize was stuck. I wrap my arms around her like I'm fucking drowning, and she's the only thing keeping me afloat. “Fuck,” I whisper again, but I don't let go.
She nuzzles her face into my hair. If I were Snark, I'd make some kind of funny-ass comment about how she's basically mashing my face into her tits, but this here? It isn't fucking like that.
Alessa runs her fingers through my hair over and over. It's the kind of soft touch that no man ever fucking admits that he needs, and every single one craves deep in his soul. “You deserved so much more. Every kid does. And to have it torn away from you like that, I can't even imagine. Losing a parent is devastating. Trust me, I know. But to not even know it was your parent until they're gone? I know you hate me saying it, but I'm so sorry. So very sorry.”
“Mom was a bitch,” I mumble into Alessa’s tits.
“Mine died in an accident,” she whispers and pulls me in closer. “I haven’t talked about it in years. I know you guys probably think my dad is an asshole, and he can be, but he was softer before she died. At least with us. He took her death hard.”
“Car accident?”
She hesitates. “Kinda. Do you remember about five years ago when Annihilation was trying to set up a chapter in the city and a couple of their guys forced a limo off the road?”
“Yeah, I was barely even a blooded member back then, but we put two of ‘em in the ground and ran their asses out of town. They were crazy fuckers.”
“Mom was in the back,” Alessa whispers. “She was on the way back from the theater with my aunts. They made it, but she didn’t.”
My arms tighten around her. “I’m sorry. That’s a shit deal.”
“It’s also why while my father hates you guys on principle, he supports the truce. I know relations haven’t been good between the Giordanos and the Screaming Eagles, but they respect that you took care of what needed doing. If Eagle-eye had hesitated even a little, my family would’ve moved on South Side in force. I think I’ve been a little curious ever since I heard the rumors.”
“Shit, our lives are fucked up.”
She nods, rubbing her cheek against my head.
We sit quietly, her on me, me against her. Breathing. Feeling each other's presence. I've been a fucking ass. Hating it, I finally pull my head back so we can look at each other. Our faces are only a couple of inches apart. She licks her lips nervously, and my eyes follow her soft tongue.
“What are you thinking?” she asks.
“I've been too hard on you.” There. I fucking said it.
Her full lips curl up into a timid smile. “Maybe I should've hugged you earlier.”