Beast I Can’t Tame by L.K. Shaw
Chapter 3
Francesca
“Areyou ever going to tell me who that woman was from the funeral?” I ask Pierce, folding my arms and leaning back against the kitchen counter.
He slowly swallows his café e latte and sets his cup down on the table. “Apparently, she’s Giovanni’s mother,” he answers carefully.
I glare at him. “Yes, I know that much. But who is she and why did she show up at Uncle Sal’s service? You guys were gone for a while. Father Moretti had to postpone the memorial for nearly an hour.”
Pierce’s expression goes blank. “As you’ve been told countless times over the years, you know I don’t talk about syndicate business.”
Lord, he’s infuriating. I haven’t heard from Gio since that day, so I can’t get any answers from him either. “She has something to do with the organization, then?”
My brother narrows his eyes. “Stop fishing. You need to let this go. It doesn’t concern you.”
That’s the worst thing he could say to me. Pierce should know better. I cross the room and sit in the chair next to him. “I’m a member of this family, same as you. If it’s something that important, then don’t you think I have a right to know?”
“No, I don’t,” he snaps back. “Don’t push me on this, Francesca.”
I smack my hand on the surface. “That’s not fair.”
Yes, it’s childish of me to whine, but something is going on with Giovanni, and I need to know what. Pierce reaches out and folds his fingers over mine. I meet his gaze.
“You know how our family works, so this is nothing new,” he reminds me. “Don’t make me out to be the bad guy. I understand that because Giovanni is involved you think you have a right to certain information. You don’t, and you’re well aware of that fact.”
I blow out a frustrated breath. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m worried about him. He hasn’t talked to me in days, and he disappeared before the service began. He was really rattled when his mother showed up.”
Pierce releases my hand. “Gio is a grown adult who is more than capable of taking care of himself. As for why he hasn’t spoken to you, maybe it’s because he has other things on his mind.”
His reprimand stings a little. Only because he’s right. I’m nothing to Gio. Not really. He’s not required to be at my beck and call or tell me everything. He probably has personal business to take care of with his mom. I just thought we’d become friends over the last few months.
“Mila wants to know if you’d like to come over for dinner tomorrow night,” Pierce says, changing the subject. I bite my tongue so I don’t ask more about Giovanni.
“Tell her I’d love to,” I say. “Have you guys talked any about finding a new house, or are you going to keep staying at the cottage?”
“We haven’t decided yet. Anya loves the garden, but the house isn’t really conducive to three adults. Besides, I’d only borrowed it temporarily.”
I smirk. “Yes, to keep Mila a prisoner.”
He doesn’t even blink at my dig. I’m still a little pissed that Pierce kidnapped and held her captive after she’d helped rescue Brenna from the Russians. They’d fallen in love, so I guess I should forgive him some time soon.
“We haven’t really made a decision, because I’m worried about you,” he says softly.
My head jerks back in surprise. “Why are you worried about me?”
Pierce spears me with a look. “You’re my sister. I don’t want you to be alone. I’ve gotten used to having you around these last few months.”
“You may not have noticed, but you’re never here, anyway.” I smile to take out any harshness. “Besides, I’ve pretty much been alone for the last seven years while you were gone, and I’ve done all right.”
There have been moments when I’ve been lonely, but I still haven’t completely gotten used to being around people. Not even my brother. I force myself to do it, because I can’t hide from the world forever.
“It just feels different now that I’m back. It feels like I’m abandoning you all over again,” Pierce admits.
I sit back in the chair and fold my arms over my waist. My gaze drifts and loses focus.
“We’ve never really talked about what happened. Not that I want to,” I rush to reassure him, glancing in his direction again. “No offense.”
His mouth lifts on one side. “I’m not really a talker.”
I smirk. “You don’t say?” This time, I reach for Pierce’s hand. He squeezes my fingers. “You didn’t abandon me in the first place. Truthfully, I don’t think I could have handled you being here”—I pause for a beat—“after, anyway.”
“I should have been here for you, though. It’s the first time in my adult life I’ve felt helpless.”
“Hiring Theresa was probably the best thing you could have done for me,” I assure him. “Besides, I think Jacob needed you more than I did at the time.”
Pierce rises from his seat,picks up his mug, and presses a kiss to the top of my head, like he’s reached his comfort level with our discussion. “Thank you for the café e latte. I need to get back to the house and make sure Mila and Anya are doing okay.”
“You’re welcome. Tell them I said hello, and I’m looking forward to dinner tomorrow.”
“Call me if you need anything,” he says, placing the empty cup in the sink.
I nod absently, and he strides out of the kitchen and disappears around the corner. Moments later, the front door opens and closes, leaving me alone in the house that seems to close in on me more and more every day. I’d never tell Pierce, because I don’t want him to worry.
A restlessness hits me, and I nearly jump to my feet and make my way out to the living area. For the first time, I glance around and truly take in the place I’ve called home for the past seven years. The blinds are drawn, as though guarding against any light that might dare pass through them.
There doesn’t appear to be a speck of dust on any surface, yet the whole room has a stale quality to it, as if no one lives here. It feels like my life—like I’m not living it. Merely existing. Going through the motions day by day. I’m almost twenty-six years old. Is this how I want to spend the rest of my life?
I cross the room, flip the wooden slats open on every window, and then push them up to let the sunlight burst through. After those are done, I move around the rest of the house, opening every single blind and brightening up the place more than it has been since Pierce bought it for us. For me. I take a deep breath and can almost feel the warmth seep into my body. Have I always been this cold?
Something seems to have come over me. I open the back door and step out onto the large, oval-shaped deck. Just like the interior, there doesn’t seem to be a speck of dirt or a single cobweb anywhere. But I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve sat out here, basking in the sunshine, over the last seven years.
After another deep breath, I stroll across the wooden surface and out into the yard. The landscaping isn’t nearly as robust as Pierce and Mila’s place, but there’s a small bed of flowers along the outer edge of the deck. I’m not sure I’m a gardener, but maybe it’s a hobby I can try to take up.
Feelings I haven’t experienced since before, start bubbling up inside me. Almost like anticipation. Like excitement. It’s a little scary, actually. Nerve-wracking, in fact. After a few more glances around the yard, I head back inside, leaving the door open to let the fresh air in.
I clean up the kitchen, washing the few dishes in the sink, before going to my bedroom. I fling the walk-in closet door open, flip on the light, and step inside, taking in all the drab colors. That’s what I’ve lived in. Blacks, browns, and grays. There isn’t any pop of color anywhere in here.
Wait.
There’s something, pushed all the way in the back. I dig through slacks and sweaters and blouses, sliding clothes out of my way, until I can reach whatever it is stashed there, hiding. My breath catches. With trembling hands, I reach up and lift the hanger off the rack. I can’t believe I forgot about this dress.
The fire-engine red satin glides like butter off my fingertips. Its tea-length skirt flares out in an A-line from just under the halter-top bodice. There’s a row of pearlescent beads along the high-waisted seam. A subtle decoration that makes the plain dress just a shade fancier. I run my hand along the side, and it snags on something.
A price tag.
I remember the day I bought this dress. I’d been saving it for the perfect occasion. An occasion that never came. I throw off my clothes and slide the smooth fabric over my body. The dress almost hangs on me. Have I lost that much weight?
I need to take better care of myself. I haven’t been doing such a great job of that. There’s suddenly so much more I want from life. It’s time to make some changes.
