In one step I’m face to face with Nate, our eyes level, our shoulders ready for battle. “I think you’ve forgotten your manners.”
“I think you’ve forgotten your place, brother.” I ignore the malice resonating in that last word. The years of resentment it holds in every letter.
“Go home, Nate. Now’s not the time and definitely not the place.” My voice is steady despite the buzzing, savage fire burning just below my skin. The silence brewing between us is filled with memories of young boys with their whole futures ahead of them, friends whose turf was the privileged streets of the Upper East Side, planning the takeover of the world and splitting it three ways.
But devastating circumstances got in the way, which is the only reason I’m giving him an out. Out of respect for the years we spent as chosen brothers, I’m giving him an easy out so I don’t have to kill him with my bare hands.
Our connection is severed as he turns to River and flashes her the charming, good-guy smile that got him laid so many times. It’s always been the ace up his sleeve. We used to call it the Reed Effect.
By the softening of River’s eyes, I’d say it’s working on her, too. Her work ethic and respect for our contract is keeping her from melting at his feet like I’ve seen so many other women do throughout the years.
But then River has always been different. Unique in the way she carries herself. Reacts to others.
In the way she resists me.
“I’ll see you later, Skittles.”
Motherfucker. I may just throw away every memory I have of him for that little stunt, but I know how to control myself.
Barely.
I realize I’m vibrating with pent up, murderous energy when I flinch as River’s hand lands on my bicep, gently pushing me out of her way.
“Marco, please.” Her gaze bores a hole through my soul before she turns her attention to Nate again and to my horror, apologizes to him.
“I’m sorry, Nathaniel. I’ll call you, okay?” Nate leans down, darting a cocky smirk my way that only I can see before a barely chaste kiss on the corner of her mouth. It’s River’s nails digging into the muscles of my arm that keep me in check and save me from making a scene at Bobby’s funeral.
Bet he’s looking down on us and wondering what the fuck is wrong with us.
Nate steps back and just before he walks away, he throws his last punch.
“See you around, Capo.”
We watch him as his figure slowly moves away from us, and it’s not until he’s far enough that I can’t distinguish his broad shoulders from his lean waist that I turn back to River.
During our quick altercation, those in attendance have dispersed—going back to the daily happenings in their lives—while River tries to recenter herself in a world where her dear friend no longer exists.
“You ready, Dolcezza?” Reaching for her hand, I roll my eyes as she slaps my touch away. Here we go again. What is it with this woman? All I ask is that she listen and do as I say.
“What the fuck was that?” I arch a brow at her language.
“One.” She knows exactly what I’m talking about. And to be clear, I don’t actually give a fuck that she talks like a biker raised on the city streets. What I do love is that my chastising her stokes her fire.
“Fuck you, Marco. Don’t play this ‘no cursing’ bullshit. What the actual fuck was that whole…” she twirls a finger around where Nate used to stand then aims her pointer at me. “Gossip Girl episode?” I genuinely have no idea what she’s talking about.
“Gossip Girl, Marco. The television show?” Still nothing.
“Oh my God, you’re hopeless. It doesn’t matter anyway. What was that? Tell me right now or the deal is off.” Staring at her, I try to judge her bluff. Would she really walk away from five million dollars just to satisfy her curiosity?
Her right foot steps back, her eyes fixed on mine.
“One.” It’s her turn to give me an ultimatum and fuck me, I do not renegotiate terms already signed and sealed, which is why I stand my ground.
Her left foot joins her right and she’s now too far from me, her hand falling away from my arm.
“Two.” Every one of my muscles is tight, ready to uncoil like a viper feeling attacked.
Her body begins to turn as though she can walk away from me and live to tell her story but before she can call out the number three, I’m the one wrapping my fingers around her bicep, pulling her tightly to me.