Page 87 of Damiano De Luca (The Five Syndicates)
“What did you say?”
“I told him that I don’t know.” He gutted me with his words. “I told him that no one knows what lo
ve is, but there’s something about you I’ll never be able to let go. That’s the closest to knowing any of us get.”
He leaned back against the seat and eyed the ceiling of the car. “But I was wrong. There’s a way to know. I can’t define the feeling, but that doesn’t change the fact that I know I love you. I realized this when I saw you in New York. That piece of you I’d never been able to let go of didn’t loosen. It saw you, tightened, and tugged me closer.”
His words thrust me over a cliff, clinging onto the ridge for dear life.
“Oh.”
A stupid response, but I didn’t trust myself to say more. We needed to stay friends. We’d tried having a relationship twice. At least as his friend, I still had him in my life.
“You’re my first love, Knight. I gave my heart to you.”
Maybe that was the problem. He couldn’t let go of me because his first love was the only person who would ever get all of him. No matter how much time passed, I would always hold a piece of him no one else would.
It was the piece of him that discovered love. That learned love in late night library dates, when friendship transformed to love, when one soul lifted the burdens of the other, and in that first kiss we could never go back from.
How much of what he said was that missing piece he’d given me talking? How much of it was real? Truth was… I didn’t just want to be his first love. I wanted to be his last love. But here we sat. Civil, for reasons which blew my mind. We had an opportunity now to be friends, to always be in one another’s lives without risking losing each other.
“We have a choice right now to become friends and stay in each other’s lives without risking another ten years apart. I think we should take it.”
He let loose a humorless chuckle. “We have a lot of choices in life, but I know for a fact that this is not one of them. You can say whatever you want about outside forces involved in our relationship. But to me, meeting you will always be fate. I made the choice to befriend you. But falling in love with each other? That’s beyond our control. We can try to stop it all you’d like, but we will always be in love with each other, and anyone else would just be settling.”
“I can’t risk this.”
“It’s a bigger risk to spend our lives knowing we’re best together and not taking the leap. That ring you have tattooed on your wedding finger is permanent proof you’re in love me. That you will always love me. I’m imprinted in your skin, Ren. Forever. There’s no hiding from that. Do you remember when I drew that on you?”
“You drew this on me?”
I held my left hand to my chest and clutched it with my other hand. As if hiding my tattoo would change its origin, or the fact that I didn’t know where the original Sharpied line came from but my own intuition told me I needed it etched into my skin permanently.
He eyed my hand and nodded. “That night Laura drugged you, I took you back to your room. You asked me why I helped you. I told you that the only time I don’t feel like I’m just going through the motions is when I’m with you. That’s still true, by the way. You told me you thought you liked me, and I told you that, if things weren’t so complicated, I could see myself with you forever. And then, I drew that ring around your wedding ring finger.”
He reached for my hand, and I let him grab it—couldn’t help myself. “I didn’t realize it until recently, but things don’t have to be so complicated. We can simplify it.” He leaned forward, brought my hand to his lips, and pressed a kiss to my tattoo. “Choose me, and I’ll choose you. We’ll put each other first. Everything else is just background noise.”
I wanted to. I did. But I couldn’t make the choice right now. What would help me to take the leap? I wasn’t the type for grand gestures. I wasn’t even the type for little ones. So, knowing what I wanted escaped me.
“I don’t have an answer for you.”
“That’s okay.” He studied my face. “But I’m going to keep trying.”
“Okay.”
“Don’t change your phone number again.”
My smile slipped past. “Okay.” I finally let loose a laugh, and it felt free. “Was changing my phone number dramatic? Maybe. But in my defense, it—”
A screech of tires pierced the air. Damian flung his body across mine, covering me in an instant. I didn’t need his protection, but he did it anyway. Across Maman’s courtyard and driveway, soldiers drew their handguns and assault rifles to a ready position.
Four unmarked Escalades stopped in the driveway, over two dozen men armed with rifles evenly distributed between them. Papà’s tactical team. They took one look at our group, which outnumbered theirs four to one, and paused their movements.
Maman stood on the steps to her home. She leaned against a column, one foot hooked around the other, the picture of nonchalance. And why would she care? She was well-connected in the mafia world. She spent her time gaining allies, whereas Papà spent his time making enemies.
Maman and the intruders stood at a standoff. Still, she looked unconcerned. Confident, even. She had an army. Papà had a small tactical team. They’d retreat, and the Vitali family would be hers.
The opposition team’s cars retreated, backing out of the driveway. Damian pulled back a little, and our eyes met with hardly a hand’s width separating us. His eyes dipped to my lips. I leaned into him before remembering that I wasn’t ready to risk losing him by entering a relationship with him.
