Page 63 of Vicious Behaviors (The Next Vicious Generation #3)

One thing is certain—alcohol and stressful situations make for rotten bedfellows.

I was so pent-up last night worrying about Izzie meeting my parents for the first time, and terrified about how Enzo could show up and tell our father she wasn’t trustworthy, that I spent most of the night either drinking my weight in alcohol or finding an empty room where I could lose myself in Izzie.

The thing that put all my stress and anxiety over the edge was seeing Stella cry. I reverted to the little, scared, scrawny kid I used to be, too afraid of my own shadow to protect my sister. All those memories came flooding back at full force, and I could do nothing except drown them away.

After that, the whole night was a blur. Until it wasn’t. Until my worst nightmare came to life.

“Hey, you ready?” Jude says, twenty minutes later, looking alert, ready at the door.

“I’m ready,” I say, stretching before we take off on our ten-mile run.

As we step out, March’s crisp air of the night is enough to awaken every muscle. It hits me sharp and clean, a promise to flush out all of last night’s toxins.

“Let’s start with a jog and sprint once we’ve warmed up,” Jude says, to which I nod.

We take off, side by side in the middle of the empty street, the cool night air a welcomed caress.

“We haven’t done this in a while, huh?” Jude says beside me as if measuring his words.

“It’s been a while.” I nod.

“Yeah, maybe too long.” My forehead creases at the offhanded remark.

“What’s up with you today? You’ve been acting odd all morning.”

Jude looks at me before staring straight ahead onto the road. “I didn’t ask you out for a run just because I felt like reminiscing on old times, Marcello.”

“Okay. So why did you ask me to run with you this morning?”

“You don’t remember?”

“Remember what?”

“Shit,” he curses under his breath, while never missing a step. “You said a lot of fucked-up shit to me yesterday when I brought you home. Don’t you remember?”

I try to bring the memory up, but for the life of me, I can’t. I do remember Jude hauling my drunken ass out of my car and into the house, but that’s the last thing I remember.

“But even before that, you had been acting weird all night back at Big Sal’s. You said nothing apart from a few passive-aggressive remarks, and that’s all she wrote.”

That I remember. I remember looking at Jude and envying his happily ever after, knowing that such a life was not in the cards for me.

I remember holding Izzie’s hand and resenting him so much for something he had no control over.

He had no idea that one small promise to him would flip my whole world upside down.

He had no clue that I would fall in love with an FBI agent, after our father had made me his successor.

It was all out of Jude’s hands, yet yesterday, when I saw his happiness, I resented him for it.

In my stress-induced state, I needed someone to blame, and Jude ended up being the lucky winner.

‘Talk to your brother,’ Izzie’s words come rushing back to me. ‘I truly believe that hiding your condition only ends up exacerbating it,’ she warned last night.

With the image of her bruised neck, I decide today is the day the alter has no say on my fate.

“How long will this run take, do you think?”

“An hour or so. Depends on how fast we go,” Jude retorts, confused.

“An hour works,” I say, glancing over to him. “I sure fucking hope you had a light breakfast this morning. What I’m about to tell you might not sit well.”

What was supposed to be a one-hour run turned into a three-hour walk.

Jude had more than a few questions about my condition.

And, as I expected, we had to stop a few times so he could throw up his breakfast. The day our father decided to take me on that little road trip to the asylum didn’t sit well with Jude’s coffee and egg-white omelet.

Still, we spend half an hour sitting on the sidewalk in front of Nonno’s gym talking, giving time for Jude to process it all.

I’ve lived with it for the better part of my life.

Jude’s only known about it for a few hours.

He deserves some time to let it all sink in.

“What are you going to do?” he asks, after all his other questions have been answered.

“Izzie has some ideas she’s eager to share. Telling you was the first thing on her list.”

“She’s a smart girl, that one.” He smiles softly at me.

“That she is. Don’t know what I did to deserve her.”

“I feel that.” He chuckles. “Some mornings I wake up next to Mina and still think I must be dreaming.”

“The only difference is that your wife is the boss of the Firm, while my girlfriend is the FBI agent assigned to bring me and our entire family down.”

“Do you still have doubts? ‘Cause the woman I met yesterday would go to war for you.”

“That’s just it, she might have to,” I breathe out, feeling the tension starting to build on my shoulders. “I lied to our father. She’s lied to the Bureau. Where in this scenario do we even stand a chance without one of us either ending up dead or in cuffs?”

Jude places his arm around my shoulder, pulls me into his side, and states, “You got the woman of your dreams to fall in love with you. That’s the hard part. Everything else is just noise.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, eyes beaming with pride. “Now, how about we head inside and take a shower? Afterward, we can call our women to pick us up and spend some quality time together. We can figure some shit out before you tell dad that you fell in love with a cop.”

“She’s not a cop. She’s FBI. My girl worked damn hard to get where she is, okay?” I playfully remind Jude as he ruffles my hair just like he used to do when I was a kid.

“Get your ass up,” he laughs, pulling me up along with him. He then wraps me in his arms and gives me a fierce hug. “I love you, baby brother. Thank you for finally sharing your truth with me. I fucking wish you had told me sooner, though.”

“So do I,” I admit, feeling the heavy weight start to lift from my shoulders.

“Whatever that asshole of an alter tells you, I will always be proud of you. Till my dying day.” Tears sting my eyes at his words, as I hold onto him just as tightly.

Only when we let go do we both see that our eyes have gone red.

Jude wipes my tears with his hands, then gives my shoulder a tight squeeze, and continues, “We’ll get through this.

I’ll be here at your side all the way. Okay? ”

I nod, thankful for his support. He then pulls out his phone and sends a quick text to Mina, asking the girls to come and pick us up. And for the first time in forever, I walk up the flight of stairs to Nonno’s gym, excited about the day ahead.