Page 4 of My Solemn Vow

I embrace the squirming puppy, cozying her tight against mewhile I glide my fingers through her soft, plush undercoat until she lets out a massive sigh and sneezes.

She wobbles as she pushes herself out of my arms and then hops off my lap. When I’m sure this isn’t a puppy ploy to get me to play and she’s ready to shift back, I stand and grab her little bathrobe off the hook next to the door.

It’s slow, and she seems to struggle, but with one last stretch, Kerrianne shifts back, and I help wrap her up into her robe.

“Hey, little raptor, what’s wrong?” I ask.

She practically throws herself against my body once more, this time wrapping her arms around my legs.

“I had a dream, and there were big, bad men, and they wanted to take you away, and I couldn’t ever see you again,” she wails, and I bend down, scooping her up into my arms.

“Oh, hey, little raptor. That’ll never happen, I promise.” I pet her hair while holding her to me, swaying back and forth like when she was a baby.

At seven, she’s probably too big to want to be held, but I don’t care. I’ll do it until she tells me no.

“How can you be so sure?” She wraps her little arms tighter around my neck and pushes words out between gasps. “They knew our secret and —”

“There isn’t a force on this earth that will keep me from you.” I rest my head against hers for maximum reassurance. “Besides, what did I tell you about big, bad men?”

“You and Grandpa are in charge of all the pack.” She holds back a wail.

“And?” I prompt.

“And the big, bad men.” She sniffles.

“Exactly.” I squeeze her tight.

It might not be true yet, but it will be. I’ll get rid of the scum the man in my basement was making deals with and slowly take over a territory so large, have a network so big, that my pup will never be afraid of the world around her. Shifter, human, or criminal.

2

ANTONELLA

HOMECOMING

It’s the funniest thing to experience homesickness when you’ve spent so long running from your family. But one little thing is all it takes to have you considering going back home. Then it snowballs.

“Toni. You must take this job. Please. Please. Please. Please. At least apply?” Leticia, my younger cousin, is begging me over the phone like she’s dying, and I’m loving every minute of it.

“I don’t know.” I sigh, playing into the uncertainty of the prospect. “You know if I move home, I’ll be forced back into the life. Berto and your dad will be terrible about it. Plus, I just started feeling like I can breathe without worrying about every person as a threat.”

That last part is true, but my resistance is fake. After seven years, homesickness has won and I’m headed back to Chicago, at least for one school year.

The job Leticia is begging me to take, a full-time teaching position at one of the most elite elementary schools in the country, is already mine. I applied, interviewed, and accepted the teaching job at Rothschild-McClintock Magnet School, starting for the new school year.

“But, Toni,” Leticia whines, “you don’t have to be back into the lifestyle. I know my dad would much rather keep paying you to stay as a silent heir.”

“And I’ll resent him for it. It was my dad’s wish that I take over his responsibilities.” I groan as I think about living in Chicago again. The conflict between me and my uncle Gregorio, Leticia’s father and head of the infamous Italian Mob, is bound to only get worse.

It’s easier to accept that I’m not who my father wanted me to be when I’m not seeing the turnoff every week to the cemetery where my parents are buried. The Catholic guilt can’t burrow in too deep if I’m not face-to-face with it every day.

The guilt and conflict don’t stop me from packing. I put the sweater I folded into the suitcase.

“At least think about it? I’m graduating this year, and you know Dad won’t waste any time trying to marry me off to some pompous douche canoe who thinks he’s hot shit and gives me an allowance.” Leticia gives a wistful sigh, a stark contradiction to the insults she spewed.

She would never say such things if she weren’t in her room, tucked away from the rest of the family. Leticia is almost perfect for becoming a Mafia wife. Meek, docile, easy to control... everything I’m not.

“I don’t know, Leticia.” I hold out telling her a little bit longer.