“Rightttttt.” He laughed. “Because the one in her sixties was really doing it for me.”
“That’s a cousin from Italy. Word to the wise, if she makes a beeline for you, cover your dick. She likes to pull things.”
“Dicks don’t like being pulled.”
I put my hand on his shoulder as we got closer. “Exactly.”
We shared a smile, and then I heard my name.
What?
My name?
Who was talking about me?
“I’m just saying, I like the group as it is. Now, all the young ones are growing up, and it fucking blowwwwsssss.” Serena leaned her head back against Junior’s chest. “I mean, we can’t even cuss around them!”
“But Kartini isn’t so bad.” Izzy came to my defense. “I mean, she’s gorgeous, knows how to pack a punch, and is super sarcastic.”
Ash snorted out a laugh.
“What?” Izzy smacked him on the back of the head.
“I think she’d cry if she saw a dick, lives to please dear old dad like a pathetic little child who needs a pat on the head and a glass of milk before bed, and if I hear her call him ‘Daddy’ one more time in that syrupy-sweet voice of hers with those fucking dimples, I’m going to lose my shit.”
“Ash,” Junior warned. “Don’t be a dick. Meaning, don’t be yourself.”
“What?” Ash was clearly drunk. “She doesn’t belong here, not with us, not ever. God, can you imagine if she saw half the shit we did? She’d run to Sergio in a heartbeat with crocodile tears in her eyes, and we’d all get the shit beat out of us.”
“She wouldn’t tell.” Izzy glared at her brother. “God, you’re even more of an ass than I thought.”
“She would.” Ash just kept talking. “I’ll say it again, Kartini can’t hang. She doesn’t belong here, and—”
Tank cleared his throat.
I looked down at the shoes I’d had trouble walking in.
And, suddenly, felt like an imposter.
A big, giant fake.
A little girl playing dress-up in her mom’s closet, holding her dad’s whiskey and pretending she knew the horrors of the world when she’d only ever been shielded from them.
Every single cousin gaped at me, most likely to see if I’d cry or just yell at them. Instead, I handed Tank my drink with a shaking hand, kicked off my stilettos, and threw both of them directly at Ash’s drunken face before I turned and ran toward the shore.
Fighting ensued.
Tank’s voice rose.
I tried to catch my breath, but it was like there was no air for me to suck in, as if someone had rid the universe of all of it and left me with lungs that wouldn’t work.
I stumbled onto the small shoreline and watched the waves of Puget Sound wash across the rocky shore.
“Hey.” One of the guys from before, the blond one, approached. “I’m Jenner.”
He held out his hand.
I stared at it and then finally shook it. “Kartini.”
“I know.”
“Apparently, everyone does.” I crossed my arms.
“You alone?”
I frowned. “Uh, no. There’re like a billion people at this wedding.”
He chuckled and tossed back the rest of his beer then set the bottle on the shore. “Nah, I mean out here…”
Goosebumps rose all over my body when I realized just how far I’d run—the music would drown out my screams. I’d left my heels, which meant I only had the knife I kept strapped to my thigh. And even then, he’d see me reach for it.
“I’m waiting for my boyfriend,” I lied. One thing about the mafia, the parents taught us how to lie very well at an early age. “He was grabbing us more drinks. So, basically, that’s a no. I will not make out with you, Jenner.”
He threw back his head and laughed as if it were the funniest thing in the world. “I heard you were cute…pristine…untouched, but I had no idea how funny.”
“I’m hilarious,” I deadpanned. “Now, leave before my boyfriend rips your head from your body.”
“I wonder…” He started to circle me.
“Fine, I’ll play.” I crossed my arms. “What? What do you wonder?”
His fingertip traced across my shoulder and around my neck to my other bare shoulder. My navy-blue strapless dress suddenly felt like too little clothing as he moved to stand behind me. “I wonder how good it’ll feel to rip this dress from your body while nobody hears you scream.”
I tried not to shake. “Your funeral, Jenner, your funeral.”
“You don’t have a boyfriend,” he whispered in my ear, placing his hands on my shoulders and gripping them tightly. “And nobody’s going to hear because you won’t be alive when it’s happening. Think of it as a parting gift. That I’ll kill you before I fuck you.”
My legs wobbled. “Go home, Jenner, you’re clearly drunk, and only sociopaths are into necrophilia.”
His dark chuckle wasn’t helpful at all as his hands continued roaming from my shoulders down my arms. “I think I can be into anything if it means I take out Sergio Abandonato’s favorite daughter.”