Page 19

My chest felt like it was on fire. It wasn't the blows we'd traded either, no, this was completely internal. I stared out the window, watching the city fly by as silence and cigar smoke filled the air. The sound of my father moving around didn't make me move. Instead, I stayed stone still, trying to digest what the hell had just happened. One minute, I'd been with Quincy, helping him... feeling something more than I ever had in my life. For him.

And the next, he wanted to abandon me.

"You're not going to cry, are you?" Cesare grunted as he tapped something onto my knee.

I glanced down. There was a bottle of vodka resting on my leg. He nodded toward it. After a moment, I snatched it up, ripped off the cap, and took two huge gulps. The burning almost made me puke, but I swallowed down that sensation and took another swig.

"No," I finally answered him. "Got any weed?"

"I can have some brought for you by the time we reach my place."

That made me relax a fraction, but I was still tense. Everything Quincy said had cut into me. But maybe he was right. I was making up stories in my head, pretending anyone cared for me besides my mother was just laughable. For some reason, I had started to let down my walls without even realizing it, and now I was paying the price for that.

"I don't know what you have with that Quincy," Cesare said. "But do yourself a favor and let it go."

I shrugged. "Ain't got nothing with him."

"Bullshit." He laughed dryly. "I can see it on your face."

I turned to stare at him. "Have you ever been in love?" I asked.

He raised a brow. "Fuck no. Are you in love with him?" he asked, a look of disgust passing over his face.

I ignored him. No, I wasn't in love with Quincy. I didn’t even want to think about that.

I needed to know something.

"Did you ever love my mom?"

Cesare shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Do you want the truth or bullshit?"

I contemplated his words before I decided. My life the past few weeks had been spent in delulu land. No, I couldn't take another minute of people lying to my face. I needed the truth and I needed it right now.

“Truth,” I answered.

"I already told you, yes," he finally said as he seemed to think about it. “In my own way. Or at least I thought I did, but it never ends up like that.”

My heart sank, my stomach twisting more than it had all night. "That's what I figured."

"Look," he groaned. "Men like us, we don't fall in love. Not really. I thought I did for a short while, but every single marriage ended the same. Badly."

"Why?" I asked. "What the fuck makes me so fucking terrible to be around?"

"Ah, shit," Cesare mumbled as he stared at me. "Piangerà sicuramente, vero?" When I continued to stare at him, he frowned. "Listen, me leaving had nothing to do with you. Believe it or not, my children were never why I moved on."

"Then why?"

He shrugged. "People love us for a short while, but eventually it all goes to shit. No one wants to deal with the constant crap they have to deal with when they're with us."

"But Benito and Giancarlo and?—"

My father waved a hand. "Trust me, in a few years, they'll be in the same place. There is no happily ever after for men like us. Once you realize that, you stop trying to chase it. Get drunk, have a smoke, fuck any hole you fall into and leave it at that. If you go out chasing someone to cure your loneliness, it's just going to end in disaster and then you're back at square one. Now, seriously, don't fucking cry or I'm going to have to punch you."

I laughed bitterly and chugged more of the vodka. No, I wasn't going to cry, there was no reason to. Quincy had made it clear where I stood with him. And he'd shown me that I was playing a game that I couldn't win. Fuck it. I would go back to being the same Blake I had always been, the one that survived.

Once I wiped my mouth, I passed the bottle to him. "Why did you come for me? How'd you know where I was?"

Cesare took a swig and grunted. "I've always known, but I decided to let you have your freedom. Like I told you before, I want you to be part of this family, but I won't force you. Your last name isn't even Vitale."

Pain shot through my body. Thanks for reminding me.

"Do you want it to be?" Cesare asked, interrupting my thoughts.

I blinked at him as I took the bottle back. "What? Why?" I remembered something about Benito working on it, but was this the better option? A backup plan?

He shrugged. "I could use someone on my side. There's a place for you here, Blake. You're my blood. I want you to stop fucking around with trash and take your rightful place."

I shifted in my seat. "Benito's in charge."

"Not for long," Cesare countered. "The position was given to him temporarily and he decided to steal it from me. However, our extended family sees the troubles he's had. We know he can't handle this. It's best he steps down, peacefully, and go play family man."

The uncomfortable feeling in my chest expanded. Right, they had talked about people being brought over from Italy. It must have been the family that they spoke about, and who knew how many acquaintances they might have contacted. I tried not to squirm, but even listening to what my father said made me feel like I was committing treason against Benito and the rest of them. They had tried to take me in, to pull me close. And, even if I didn't want to admit it, I'd enjoyed that.

"You think because you're playing fucking family with your ‘brothers’, all of a sudden you know how this life works? You don't know shit."

My stomach tightened thinking about Quincy's words. Maybe he was right. I was kidding myself when it came to all of them. None of this was supposed to happen. Coming here had been such a colossal mistake, and I just wanted to go home.

"You took care of whoever made you look like that?" Cesare asked, gesturing toward me with the cigar in his hand.

I nodded. "Yeah. Taken care of."

Cesare beamed. "Good job. I'm proud of you."

I held my breath, waiting to feel something from his words that years ago would have made me do backflips. Now? It was hollow. His praise meant very little to me. The only person I had wanted to hear say that he was proud of me didn't want me around.

Then why was he holding on so tightly and fighting so much?

I shoved that thought aside. Quincy didn't know what he wanted. Maybe he didn't want the Vitales to be pissed at him if something happened to me or he was just losing his damn mind, but I wasn't going to play myself into thinking that he actually gave a damn. That was too stupid, even for me.

"Where are we going?" I asked, taking the bottle back from him again.

"My place," he said. "Not a hotel. Even though you ran off, I think I can trust you now."

"You researched me, didn't you?"

"I did."

"And you found out I really was your son? Did a whole DNA test?"

"Yes," he answered honestly.

Like father, like fucking son. I nodded. "At least you're smart."

Cesare chuckled, and I wondered if this was the real him. He didn't seem like such a dick right now. I also knew, however, that he was a brutal man with very little cares in the world. Everything about him screamed dangerous and I wasn't stupid enough to ignore that.

"Are you staying for a while?" Cesare asked. "I mean, if you really want to take over New York, you should stick with me."

My back tightened. "I don't know if I want to take over anything. Honestly, I just want to survive."

He waved a hand. "Bullshit. Everyone wants power, even if they act like they don't. Besides, I know what you're running from. If you end up being with me, you know you'll be safe. We can buy your freedom. And then you could see your mother again."

I started at the way he threw my mother at me. Part of me longed for just that. I needed to see her, to talk to her. On the other hand, it irritated me and made me feel suspicious about why he wanted me after all. I knew he felt nothing for her, he didn't give a damn if she lived or died, so him bringing her up would always feel like a slap in the face.

"Yeah," I muttered.

"Stick with me. You'll see what I mean."

I stared out of the car window again. Maybe he was right. Was he telling the truth all of the time? No, definitely not. But he was more honest with me than anyone else in my life. Besides, it wasn't like I had a choice. I could either stay out on the streets and freeze to death or go back home and be locked up for god knew how long. Neither of those options was something I could handle.

My father's actual penthouse was nice. It was all decorated in neutral tones, beiges, browns with little pops of orange and red. The place felt like something out of one of my mom's home decor magazines, as if someone had put it all together on a board before it was presented to Cesare. If I knew anything about him, and I knew very little, I'd have to say that was accurate. He didn't really strike me as the kind of man that gave a damn about things like appearances of his house. As long as it looked good, and expensive, it seemed he would enjoy it.

I'd already drank and smoked my body weight in vodka and weed. Finally, he'd let me stumble off to what he called my room once I could barely stand up anymore, and he'd gone on a twenty-minute tirade about his sons disappointing him and why marriage was a scam. I was pretty sure he was nuts, but that wasn't a surprise.

My phone buzzed and I rolled over to yank it out of my pocket. I forgot I had snatched it up before I left Quincy's car. Part of me was surprised it even still worked. As I pulled it out, I peered at the name and could barely make it out past my hazy vision. Letters merged together and I groaned as I finally saw who it was.

Benito.

The phone stopped buzzing only for it to start up again. I quickly put it on do not disturb. Whatever was going on with them, I wanted nothing to do with it. Quincy could deal with the warehouse fire and the bullshit fallout. All I wanted to do was lie down and pass the hell out for the day.

Once Benito gave up, I opened my phone and stared at it. There was only one voice that I wanted to hear. One. My heart squeezed. Since I'd come to New York, my mother had weighed heavily on my mind. The only time I wasn't thinking about her was when I was with the brothers or Quincy. Now that they were all gone, my head was an empty cave, and I couldn’t think about anything but her. My fingers moved over the screen as my heart leaped into my throat. I made sure I picked up the remote beside me and flipped on some random TV show before I stumbled to the bathroom. I shut and locked the door behind me, falling into the tub as I pressed the phone against my ear.

Please pick up. Please. Please.

"Hello?"

"Mom," I choked out. "Mommy."

"Oh my god, Blakey." I heard the tears in her voice and the way it trembled. "Where are you? Are you safe? I've been thinking about you every single day. Praying for you too. What's the matter? You sound strange. Are you safe?" she asked again.

I nodded, but then quickly realized that she couldn't see me. "I'm okay," I lied. Before I choked on a sob. "I'm fine."

"Oh baby, no, you're not." I could hear the sound of her sniffling.

I shoot up instantly. She was probably stressed out as hell, short on cash, and lonely. I couldn't put more on her shoulders. No matter how much I wanted to fall into her arms and have her pet my head like I was seven again, I had to grow up. She needed me to be stronger than this.

Quickly, I ran my arm across my eyes. Sucking in a deep breath, I steadied myself.

"Please, don't cry," I begged. "It was a tough day, that's all. And I missed you. Hearing your voice really made me want to see you."

"Me too," she whispered before she blew her nose. "Are you really okay? Where are you?"

"With Dad," I said.

"Oh." She sighed. "Well, at least I know you'll be all right. He can be rough around the edges, but he won't hurt you."

"Would you say the same about you?"

She hesitated. "That's not how that life works, baby," she said softly. "You know that now, right? He has no loyalties to me, but to you? He'd die for you."

I paused. "Did you take me away from him?"

She hesitated. "Yes,” she finally said slowly. “For you, and for me. Having someone almost kill us was enough. I had to get away after he left."

"Did he come back for us?"

"Once. I made sure he knew it was over. Nothing is more important than you, Blake. You know that?"

My heart squeezed. I leaned back in the tub and stared at the ceiling. On one hand, I understood what she was saying. On the other, I had to wonder if he was right. Was it a Vitale thing that people would just abandon you when things got rough?

I can't blame her. She's done nothing but protect me my entire life.

Part of me knew that, but it hurt to know that she had played a part in keeping him out of our lives. What if I'd had a father? Would I have grown up different? Maybe I would have fallen in love. Or not had to sell my ass for quick cash when we were down and out. I never told her those things, but they weighed on my chest like a stone.

"Yeah, I know that," I answered her finally. "I have to go, Mom."

"So soon?" she whispered.

"It's not safe."

"Right." She sucked in a breath. "I love you so much. Have your father work this out with the police. I'm sure he can."

Sure, he probably will. If I sell him my soul.

"Okay," I said. "I love you."

"I love you more than life."

As her voice trembled, I quickly hung up. I couldn't hear her crying again or I would tip right over the edge. I laid my hand over my eyes and felt the sob coming before it grabbed hold of me.

Please, I'm so lost.

Quincy was right, I didn't know shit about this life. About anything. That's why I was running for my life, alone, and afraid. The short bit of hope I had felt was gone.

How much longer am I supposed to live like this?