I yanked my hand back, empty, slurping down my beer and crunching the can before tossing it into the trash can from my bed.
“Nice shot,” she said, sitting up.
A smile teased my lips as she tried to hit the basket with a piece of popcorn.
“It works better when you’re buzzed,” I said.
She whipped her head around and stared at me. “I’ve only been high once. You were there, remember?”
“I try not to,” I muttered, my smile slipping away as I reached over and opened the drawer of my bedside table and pulled out a joint. That was the night she’d met up with her mystery guy and let him fuck her. It wasn’t a thought I wanted in my head.
“Why? You got a night off from watching me.” She settled deeper into my pillows.
“Watch the movie,” I grunted, lighting the joint and taking a deep hit, relishing the burn in my chest and the fuzzies that slipped through my body like warm liquid.
“You never talk to me.”
“I don’t have anything to say.” Another hit. Fuck, that’s good shit.
“I don’t know anything about you, Levin.”
“I thought we were going to watch a movie.” I kept my eyes on the screen.
“Yeah, but we’re alone and everything. We can still talk.”
I got up to get my six pack and brought it to my nightstand. Sighing, I sank back into my spot beside her, joint still in hand.
“Where are you from?”
I hit pause on the movie. Fuck. We were doing this.
“Germany. We came here when I was five.”
“Do you speak German?”
“Ja,” I answered. “We speak it in my home. Or at least we used to until my mom died.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said, staring at me with her brows crinkled. “What happened?”
I took a hit from the joint and cracked open another beer. I wasn’t sober enough for this shit. “My old man had her killed. Or he killed her. Who the fuck knows.”
Her eyes widened in horror. “Your dad. . . murdered your mom?”
I nodded, an ache in my chest as I blew out the smoke. “My brother, Stefan, was murdered too. It’s just me and my old man now.”
“Levin, I-I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s not your shit.” I took a swig of my beer.
“It doesn’t matter if it’s mine or not. It’s still horrible.”
“It is what it is,” I muttered, deciding fuck it. I’d overshare. “My mom is the one who kept us sane. Dad’s a fucking maniac. Works for Dom’s dad, Matteo De Santis. An enforcer like Vincent’s old man. They do the dirty work so Matteo doesn’t have to get his hands too messy. Dad was hardly around when I was growing up. He was always working.” I snorted. “When he was around, he was teaching us fucked up shit, like how to kill a man and hide evidence. Stefan was good at it. Too fucking good. Pops took notice. Stefan became his favorite. Ivy League schools. Fancy cars. He doted on him. But my brother…” I shook my head. “He knew what was up. He didn’t want this life even though Pops wanted it for him. Stefan wanted to run his own business. Loved computers and designing games and shit. Went off to college and got caught up in some bad stuff.”
Bianca remained frozen the entire time I spoke. I licked my lips. I’d only ever had Dom and Vincent to talk to, and God knew I didn’t waste a lot of time talking about my personal issues. “Heroin. I didn’t know he was using. Apparently, he was though because he turned up dead in a fucking alley behind Dom’s dad’s club on 57th and Park. A bullet hole in his forehead. Toxicology came back positive for drugs. We buried him next to Mama a week later. People said he had a girlfriend. Never found out who she was though. Everyone went fucking silent about that shit. She ducked out, and no one ever heard from her again. What a fucking joke.” I took another hit, my body buzzing from the high I was on.
“That’s awful, Levin. I really am sorry.”
I grunted and drank more.