Page 135 of Chicago Sin

In a flash, I slam his back against a wall, my forearm choking off his windpipe. “Stop asking me about her.”

I think he hisses something like cocksucker through his bared teeth.

“It’s over, and you’re never going to speak her name again.”

He pinches his lips and grinds his teeth together while I continue to cut off his air flow. Finally he punches me in the ribs. Twice.

Hard.

I loosen my grip on the second punch because it knocks the wind out of me.

“Peace, Mando.” Marco’s hands are in the air when I lift my head. “Chill, man.”

I want to punch his teeth out so badly, but I also love him too much to do it.

“What the fuck’s going on?” Leo appears in the living room.

Marco side steps, keeping his shoulders squared to me like a boxer circling his opponent. “Mando wants to kill someone. I’m trying to keep that guy from being me.”

Aw, fuck it. I take a swing at him. He ducks and plows into me, knocking me onto my back. In a moment, both he and Leo are sitting on me, holding me down.

“Girl problems,” Marco says to Leo.

“Fuck you,” I snarl, fighting to get free.

“Chill the fuck out, man. We’re on your side. You want blood, we’ll go get some. Just talk to me first,” Marco says.

I lift my head and smack the back of it down on the wooden floorboard. Smack it again.

“She kick you out?”

I smack it harder. “When I tell you to not talk about her, I mean it,” I rage. I can’t seem to get free of my two cousins, who are determined to hold me down.

“What the fuck is going on?” Leo demands.

“His girl,” Marco non-explains. He looks at me. “What happened? You piss her off?”

The rage seeps out of me, and I’m back to being the hollow man. Worse than ever, though. I try to swallow, trying to shuffle through the jumble of images in my mind.

The pregnancy test.

Hannah’s pinched face. Her tears.

I’m cracking. I can’t do this anymore.

“I pushed her away,” I croak, sickened by the realization.

Marco’s expression shows nothing. We both have perfected our masks. “You can’t fix it?”

“No,” I rasp. “I can’t be what she needs. An entire gang wants me dead. I’m a goddamn danger to her.”

Marco continues to look at me passively. “So we fix that.”

I stare back. If that problem were gone, could I be what Hannah needed?

The sickness in my stomach resurfaces.

Not even fucking close.