Taz’s hands fisted. “Crystal. But if anything happens to my little brother, we’ll have a problem.”
Luca nodded and looked at Mickey. “What?”
“I’m sorry for interfering.”
Another terse nod, and he dismissed Mickey. He walked toward the cars, his attention on his phone.
“Keep an eye on him,” Taz said, just loud enough for us to hear. His eyes narrowed at Mickey’s back. “I don’t think he likes you favoring Tootsie.”
“Mickey’s a good boy. He’ll fall in line,” Marco said, his voice sure.
Taz considered Marco’s words and then ran a hand down his face. “You’ll let me know if you hear from my brother?”
“Of course.”
Taz hugged Luca, pounding his back, and did the same with Marco before walking off in the opposite direction that Mickey had gone.
Finally, Luca turned to me—face streaked red, his white shirt splattered with blood. “Welcome home.” He reached a hand out, only to fist it and drop it to his side.
A sob-like laugh fell from my lips, and I threw myself into him. “What the fuck Luca?”
“Shh.” He rubbed a hand down my back, his lips pressing against my hair every so often.
I leaned back and grabbed his chin. “Can we go home now?”
“Sure, baby. Once Frankie pours the concrete, we can go.” As if on cue, Frankie pulled up in a cement mixer. Between him and Tommy, they got the ramp set up, and the hole filled in no time.
“Why don’t you guys head out?” Frankie yelled over the noise of the truck.
Luca pulled out his phone and tapped away. “Can you handle this? Get the truck where it needs to go?”
“Sure thing. I’ll double-check the area before the crew gets here.”
“Perfect.” Luca took my elbow and walked me to his car with Marco in our wake. He opened my door, helped me inside, then walked around the hood as he shrugged on his suit coat. It covered most of the blood, but he'd be fucked if we got pulled over.
He got into the driver’s seat and looked in the mirror while rubbing his jaw. “Another shirt,” he muttered to himself.
I dove into my bag for my makeup removal wipes and handed them over. “Try these.”
“Thank you.” He cleaned up what blood he could off his exposed skin, using every last one from the pack.
“What the fuck was that?” I looked between Luca and Marco.
Luca merged into traffic and sighed. “We made it look like Marco and I were on the outs so we could lure out whoever is trying to get rid of me. Unfortunately, only the Marino twins and Paulie were stupid enough to take the bait.”
“Kicked your ass for no reason.” Marco laughed, stretching out in the backseat of Luca’s SUV.
“Tell that to your busted nose.”
And because they were fucking lunatics, they started laughing. We dropped Marco off at his place—the duplex next door to Adriana and Dante.
Back on the highway, Luca asked me if I was hungry. I shook my head, unable to vocalize just how ridiculous his question was. Who would be hungry after watching three men die?
Luca. That’s who.
As soon as we were home, he went into the kitchen and scrubbed his hands until they were no longer red from blood but from the hot water and nail brush. Once he was satisfied with his hands, he raided the fridge.
Numbly, I sat at the kitchen island and watched him slice green apples and gouda and Havarti cheese as bacon sizzled in a skillet. “You’re making a grilled cheese,” I said matter-of-factly.