Ruthless Spring

Lucia’s eyes narrow and I can tell she’s doing her best not to lash out.

“Now obey your orders,” Giovanni tells her before looking at Enzo. “It’s time to go.”

Enzo gives him a nod and he opens the front door. Giovanni walks out followed by Vito, Lorenzo, and Polo. Maximo stops before he gets to the door, placing a hand on Lucia’s shoulder and squeezing. “Don’t do anything that I would do,” he tells her, and I don’t miss the affection in his voice.

He moves out of the door before she can reply and Enzo follows, closing the door behind them.

“This is what my life has come down to,” Lucia says, shaking her head. “A glorified fucking babysitter.”

I blink, looking up at her. “Am I who you’re babysitting?”

Her gaze meets mine and she lets out a snort. “Unfortunately.” She holds out a hand. “No offense to you Winnie-Pooh, but I’m a woman who deserves to be on the front lines of war, not at home waiting for the men to return.” The disgust in her voice is clear.

“So they’re going out to….” I let the sentence drag.

“Fuck shit up? Get revenge? Yeah,” she confirms. “And while I'm good to run to anytime they need anyone’s head blown in, I’m not good enough to join the family when they go out to fight together.” She shakes her head, folding her arms over her chest. “I could have been out with one of my pieces if I knew this was the plan.” Her gaze wanders away from me and she appears to be talking to herself. “There’s a lot of things I could be doing right now.”

She continues to rant and I only listen to her with raised brows as she goes on and on. Suddenly, she snaps her fingers and her gaze lands on me. “You know what? They want me to babysit, that’s exactly what I’ll do.” She points at me. “You and me? We’re going out for a night on the town, Winter.”

Well, shit.

***

This can only lead to trouble.

I know it, yet I don’t do anything about it, as I follow Lucia into a club I’ve never even heard of before. She dressed me up before we left the house, taking me to the room that apparently holds a shit ton of clothes. I’d had to wonder if this is where Giovanni picks my outfits from every day.

Lucia had given me an itty-bitty black dress that just barely pulls over my butt, and the bra I was given doesn’t do much of supporting the girls.

And the heels on my feet are killing me.

But really, this is better than sitting in the house all night, waiting for instructions.

Even if I know this is going to end horribly.

Lucia knows it too. But apparently, the woman holds more spite in her than fear.

It’s admirable.

The music in the club booms, moving through my body as Lucia continues to lead me further and further into the club. There’re so many people here, all moving against each other. And unlike the clubs I went to in my neighborhood, and Delirium, there’s people of every race.

Black, white, Hispanic, Asian, the list goes on and on.

Lucia takes the open seat at the bar, gesturing for the man occupying the one next to it to get up. He does so quickly when she flashes him the gun in her purse.

I guess that’s one way to get people to do what you want.

“Get me a Manhattan,” she tells the bartender and he gives her a nod, turning to make it. She reaches up, grabbing him by the sleeve of his shirt before he can go. “I wasn’t done,” she tells him sharply before turning to look at me. “What do you want?”

“Oh, nothing for me.” It’s bad enough that I let her drag me out to this club, but if I return home drunk, Giovanni just may go ahead and kill me.

Lucia snorts, looking at the bartender. “Make that two Manhattans,” she tells him as she releases his shirt.

“I really shouldn’t drink, Lucia,” I say, practically shouting to be heard over the music.

She only waves a hand at me.

When the bartender returns with the drinks, Lucia snaps one up, passing the other to me. She turns on her barstool, sipping her drink as she takes in the room. It’s almost as if she’s a predator stalking her prey as she lets her eyes flit over all the people. Her head tilts to the side slightly and I follow her gaze to a slim Ssian woman moving against another shorter woman with blonde hair.