Vendetta: A DeLuca Family Novel (The DeLuca Family Book 2) (2 page)

“
M
om
?” I called out when I walked into the dark house. I’d bought the small house on the outskirts of Seattle for her and my aunt five years ago. I couldn’t stand the thought of them living in the shitty neighborhood I’d grown up in.

Usually the house was warm, filled with laughter, and the smells of home cooking, but not anymore. It was quiet as I walked through the foyer and into the living room. It was cold, like someone forgot to turn on the heat and the February chill had seeped into the house.

“Mom?” I called again, louder this time. My breaths came faster and I could feel my pulse beating harder in my neck. Nothing looked out of place as I scanned the room; it was just a feeling. The house felt cold, lifeless, and empty. I searched the ground floor and found nothing, not a single light left on or a dish in the sink.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as I made my way up the stairs to my mother and aunt’s rooms on the second floor. I’d stopped calling out; it only raised my anxiety level every time the empty house echoed my calls. I heard a whimper coming from my aunt’s room as I stepped onto the landing at the top of the stairs. Quietly, I pulled my gun from my waistband and crept across the wood floor to her door, careful not to make a sound.

When I reached the door, I noticed it was cracked open, revealing a dark room and nothing else. With my free hand, I slowly pushed the door open. The adrenaline was pumping through my system so rapidly it felt like my heart would beat out of my chest. I was trying my hardest not to think the worst.

Two forms lie in the bed, one curled around the other. Stepping closer, I saw the smaller of the two was silently sobbing, shoulders shaking, and every few seconds she would inhale sharply. My aunt.

“Mom?” I whispered.

The larger of the two lifted her head and rubbed her eyes. “Enzo? Oh honey, I didn’t know you were coming,” she said, sliding off the bed from behind her sister and leading me out into the hallway.

“You scared me, I was calling your name and you didn’t answer,” I said when we entered the hallway.

She hushed me and closed the door behind her. “I’m sorry, I must have fallen asleep. It’s been a hard day,” she said giving me a pathetic smile.

“What’s the matter? What can I do?” I asked immediately.

“Sweetheart,” my mother sighed cupping my cheek with a weathered hand. “My sweet boy, you look so much like your father, you know that?” she asked.

“Yeah you’ve said that before, Mom. What’s the matter with Aunt Rosa?” I asked impatiently.

“He was such a handsome man,” she continued wistfully.

“Mom,” I urged.

She clucked her tongue and patted my cheek. “Nothing you can fix. The heart needs time to heal.”

“What happened?”

“She was looking for Mama’s old recipe book; she wanted to make a cake.” She laughed pitifully and shook her head. “Just trying to keep busy, you know? Anyway, she came across an old photo album. I found her on the floor crying over baby pictures of Ed—“ her voice cut out on his name and she had to clear her throat before she continued. “It’s a terrible thing to lose a child, the worst loss a person can suffer. It’s just—it’s not how it’s supposed to be. We fear it, but know it’s a possibility to lose a spouse and we expect to lose our parents—but never a child.”

I pulled her into my chest, cradling her head with my hand as she cried. Every one of her tears was like a knife to my heart. If I hadn’t agreed to let Eddie be a part of our plan with the Russians, none of this would have ever happened. His blood was on my hands. The only thing worse than the guilt was the fear that my mother and aunt would somehow learn the truth and see me for the monster that I am.

Frankie hates me; she has to. She’d been cool towards me for years. The way she looked at me now, it’s like it hurts for her just to see my face, so I’ve stayed out of sight. Not that I’d really spent a lot of time with her in the past few years; she didn’t want to be anywhere near me, and I couldn’t blame her.

I was an asshole.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered into my mother’s hair. I was sorry for a lot of things. It seemed to be a common theme for me.

“No need to be sorry. You’ve done so much for us. She just needs time; we all do,” she said softly, pulling away and patting me on the chest. Her dark hair was streaked with white and her eyes looked more tired than usual. She’d worked so hard to provide for me when I was young. I just wanted to be able to protect her, but I kept failing. The worst part was that no one knew that it was my fault Eddie was dead. I’d brought him into the fold. I’d asked for his help setting up the Russians. It was my fault my aunt couldn’t get out of bed, it was also my fault Frankie had that haunted look in her eye. I wanted to protect everyone I loved, but you can’t protect someone from the grief you caused.

I
tossed
my keys onto the kitchen counter as I sifted through my mail. As usual, nothing but bills. I started pulling off my clothes as I headed towards my bedroom. I needed to catch up on some quality Netflix time, and the only way to binge watch was to do so on the couch wearing sweats.

I pulled my favorite pair of leggings out of the drawer and wiggled them on. Walking over to my vanity I thumbed my favorite hoodie. It was old and brought back memories better left in the past, but it always made me feel safe. After the way I’d been feeling today, I needed a little comfort.

On my way out of the room something caught my eye. I stepped closer to my dresser and picked up the framed picture that had been laying facedown.

That’s weird.

It must have fallen over somehow. I stared at the picture for a minute, remembering a time when things were a lot less complicated. It was a picture of me, Enzo and Eddie from when we were little kids. I’d always loved this picture, even when I was a little girl. I was squished between the two boys. Enzo and I were looking at each other and laughing and Eddie was glaring off to the side with his arms crossed in front of him. I couldn’t remember why he was mad, but it was so like him to be pissy about something or other. I placed the frame back on the dresser with a sigh.

Why do I torment myself like this?

I wandered into the kitchen, grabbed a pint of ice cream, and settled on the couch for my nightly ritual of Netflix bingeing. Instead of paying attention to the TV, I found myself drifting into old memories.

“
W
hy do
you have to go? Why can’t you stay?” I cried, clinging to Enzo’s sweatshirt.

“Franny, we’ve been over this,” Enzo said softly, taking my face in his hands and raising my head so he could look me in the eye.

“But what if you get hurt?” I asked desperately. Enzo sighed, brushing away my tears with his thumbs.

“Nothing is going to happen to me, okay? It’s only eighteen months, I’ll be back before you know it.”

“That’s a long time!” I wailed, wrapping my arms tight around his waist and burrowing my face in his chest.

Enzo’s arms came around me and he held me tight. I always felt safe when I was with him and I felt especially safe when he held me. “Shh. Franny, it’s going to be all right. I promise,” he said rubbing my back soothingly.

“Enzo, darling. It’s time,” Marcella, Enzo’s mother, reminded him softly.

He pulled back and took my face in his hands once again. “Hey, have I ever broken a promise to you?” he asked gently.

“N-No,” I hiccupped. He hadn’t—not once. Enzo always kept his promises no matter what. He was the only one I could rely on. Even Eddie broke promises to me.

“I’ll be back. I promise. Now I need you to promise
me
something. Can you do that?” he asked, his eyes imploring me to agree. I nodded, but kept my mouth closed. I was afraid I’d start sobbing again if I tried to talk. “I need you to promise me that you’ll stay safe. Eddie’s got your back if you need it, but be smart. I need you to be safe,” he repeated. “Okay?”

I sniffed and nodded again. “Okay,” I croaked.

“Good girl,” he said and kissed my forehead before releasing me. I shivered as a cold breeze hit my bare arms. Enzo noticed and unzipped his hoodie. “Here,” he said, offering it to me. I took it and shrugged it on. It smelled like him, and I immediately felt comforted.

We were standing outside saying our goodbyes before Enzo’s mother drove him to the airport to report for boot camp. I tried to keep the tears at bay as I watched him embrace my mother and his aunt. He gave Eddie a half handshake, half hug. He said something to Eddie when they pulled away, but the wind caught his words before I could hear what it was.

Eddie just nodded his head once with a pissed off look on his face. He’d been in a permanently foul mood ever since Enzo had announced he’d enlisted in the Marines three months ago. I was upset, but Eddie was furious. Every time I tried to talk to him about Enzo leaving, he’d get pissed and leave the room. I wasn’t sure why he was so angry, but I guessed it was just his way of dealing with it.

Eddie, his mother Rosa, my mother Claudia, and I headed inside the house after waving Enzo and Marcella off. Rosa had moved in with Marcella after Eddie’s father took off when she was still pregnant. It was just Marcella and Enzo since Enzo’s father had died in a car accident the year before. They’d lived together ever since, raising Enzo and Eddie more like brothers than cousins.

I settled myself on the couch and curled up, wrapping Enzo’s hoodie around me. I felt miserable, like my heart had just been ripped out of my chest. My best friend was on his way to start one of the most dangerous jobs in the world and pretty soon he’d be shipped off to a war zone.

He’d explained why he thought it was the only option, and just because I understood it didn’t mean I had to like it. His mother cleaned houses for a living and had been diagnosed last year with arthritis which meant she wasn’t going to be able to continue manual labor for long. Enzo needed to find a way to support his family, and the military was the best option for an 18-year-old. The sign up bonus alone was enough to help pay some of the past-due bills and help supplement his mother’s income so she could afford to cut back on her hours.

I kept telling myself over and over that it was the only way and he’d be fine. Enzo was strong; he was the strongest person I knew. He’d be okay, he had to be okay.

“Stop fucking crying,” Eddie hissed from above me.

I lifted my head from my arms and looked up at him. He’d never talked to me like that before—ever. “W-what?” I asked, bewildered.

“I said,” Eddie gritted out, “stop fucking crying. Don’t be so selfish. If you’re still blubbering like a little baby when Marcella gets back, it’s just going to upset her more. She’s the reason he’s doing this in the first place. Imagine how
she
feels. Do you want her to feel worse?”

Hot tears cascaded down my cheeks. “No, I’m sorry— “

“Don’t be sorry, just stop crying,” Eddie said fiercely. “And I don’t just mean for today. Every time you talk about him and cry about the fact that he’s gone it’s going to remind her. Do you want that? Do you want to remind her that it’s all her fault?”

I shook my head and wiped my eyes with my sleeves. I didn’t want to hurt Marcella. She’d always been so good to me. Eddie was right, I was being selfish. I wasn’t the only one that was losing Enzo—we all were.

I took Eddie’s words to heart and kept my tears to myself until I was alone in my room. For 562 days, I’d turn off the light, curl up in my bed, and let my tears soak my pillow until exhaustion pulled me under. I wrote Enzo 78 letters while he was away. Every week I’d sit down and tell him everything that he’d missed.

Almost immediately after Enzo left, Eddie started hanging out with Johnny and Emanuel. We’d gone to school with them for most of our lives, but Enzo had always made sure we stayed away from them. They’d dropped out and were running with a bunch of thugs from the neighborhood. I knew better than to go when Eddie invited me along. They were trouble. Eddie started hanging out with them more and more as the months progressed. Johnny had a car, which I guessed was part of his appeal. His cousin Juan had ‘hooked him up’—whatever that meant. Pretty soon Eddie was coming home later and later or not at all. He was barely ever at school and he stopped going altogether after his junior year.

Enzo was gone. Eddie had left me to fend for myself. I was on my own.

The first day of my sophomore year was torture. Without Enzo there to stand up for me or Eddie to scare people off, I was fair game. Being small and nerdy had put a giant target on my back. The girls were catty and the boys were mean. I didn’t have any friends of my own, because I’d spent most of my time with Enzo and Eddie. I was adrift in an ocean without a life vest and I had no clue how to swim.

I adapted though. Keeping my head down, I focused on my school work. When I wasn’t at home or doing homework, I was on my computer. My strategy of avoidance worked remarkably well, and pretty soon I was basically invisible. The hours I spent locked away in my room proved to be beneficial. I lived on message boards and in chat rooms, scouring the internet for everything I could find on hacking and programming. Eventually my hobby became my passion. I may not have had much control of the people around me, but behind my keyboard, anything was possible.

“
U
h
, Frankie?” Josh, my assistant, called from the door to my office.

“Yeah?” I asked, distracted. I was currently balls deep in a system upgrade and didn’t have time to chat.

“You have a delivery,” he said nervously.

“I didn’t order anything,” I said, lifting my head from my computer screen. Instead of seeing Josh, I saw a giant bouquet of flowers—roses and lilies, to be exact. They were my favorite. My pulse spiked. “Is there a card?”

“Uh, no.”

“Did you get a receipt or anything?” I asked urgently.

Who the fuck would send me flowers? And how did they know which ones were my favorites?

“No, the delivery guy didn’t give me anything.”

“Leave them on the bookshelf; I’ll deal with it later. No more interruptions, Josh. I mean it,” I said sternly.

“O- of course,” he stuttered and sort of half-bowed as he left my office and closed the door behind him.

Ignoring his idiocy, I hurried over to the bouquet. The card from the flower shop was attached to the vase, but there wasn’t a note or any clue as to who sent it.

I sat back down at my computer and pulled up the site for the flower shop. There was only one person who had ever given me these flowers, and they couldn’t be from him. It was impossible.

They had an online order form that you could fill out without going into the store, but you’d have to pay by card. Picking up the phone, I dialed the number to the shop. The phone rang twice before a woman answered.

“Emerald City Flowers, this is Nina, how can I help you?” an overly cheery voice said.

“Yes, I just received an arrangement but the card must’ve fallen off in transport. Would you be able to look up the order and tell me who placed it?” I asked sweetly. My normal tone probably wouldn’t have worked.

“Oh dear, I’m so sorry about that. I can look it up by delivery address. Does that work for you?”

“Yes, of course,” I said, and relayed my office address to her.

“Hmm, let’s see. Ah, here it is. Oh dear, it looks like this was an online order. The only name attached to the order is John and no last name. Do you know a John?” she asked.

“No, I don’t.”

“Well, it looks like you might have a secret admirer.” Her giddiness was almost palpable over the phone.

“Can you tell me the name that was on the credit card used?” I asked, trying to ebb the harsh tone my anxiety was causing. I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Something wasn’t right.

“Well, normally that would be against company policy, but it appears it was a prepaid gift card, so there was no name. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine. Thank you for your help.”

“Oh, it was no pro—“ I hung up the phone before she could finish.

Sitting back in my chair, I considered my options. I could hack into the flower shop’s system, get the card number and try to trace where it was purchased. If someone went through all the trouble to use a fake name and prepaid card, they probably paid for the card with cash.

I was suspicious by nature; it was something that had been instilled in me a long time ago. Between my asshole father and the neighborhood we grew up in, you could never be too careful. Maybe the lady at the shop had been right; maybe it was just a harmless admirer.

It was probably just a coincidence.

My phone chimed with a reminder on my desk, pulling me away from my internal debate.

“Shit,” I said aloud when I read the notification. I was due to meet Mia for lunch in fifteen minutes, then we were going to look at wedding dresses.

Yay me.

After grabbing my phone and gathering everything I’d need to work from home for the rest of the afternoon, I snatched a Red Bull from my mini fridge and headed out. Maybe I’d get some peace and quiet if I worked from home. I spared one last glance at the flowers on my bookcase before I closed and locked my office door. That mystery would have to wait.

S
tepping out of the building
, I hurried down the sidewalk towards the restaurant. Mia and I had decided to meet at the restaurant, since anytime she came into the office, she was inundated with people needing something. It was as if only an act of God could get her out of there in less than an hour.

A fine mist of rain coated me quickly as I made my way down the block. It wasn’t really rain just kind of a haze of moisture, which was common faire for the Pacific Northwest. Keeping my head down, I pushed forward focusing on avoiding puddles more than on where I was going.

I was jostled when someone shoved passed me, causing my bag to fall off of my shoulder.

A distinct cologne filled my nostrils and I physically recoiled. There was something about that particular scent that triggered an onslaught of memories. Guilt immediately pulled heavily on my heart as I remembered why the cologne had been familiar. It was the same kind Eddie used to wear.

Shaking the thoughts from my head, I turned around to catch the back of the douchebag as he hurried down the street. He was wearing a black sweatshirt with the hood pulled up, shoulders hunched, and his hands in his pockets.

Fucking asshole.

Thankfully I was able to catch my bag before it hit the ground. I hitched it farther up on my shoulder and continued on.

I should have just stayed in bed today.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” I said as I slid into the booth across from Mia once I finally made it to the restaurant, damp and irritated.

“I’ve only been here a minute,” she responded without looking up from her menu.

“So does the baby ever want anything other than Italian food?” I asked.

“Mmm, It’s all about the pasta. Whoa, did you swim here?” she asked, finally looking up at me.

“Yep, better tell Carlo to start building an ark,” I deadpanned.

“Don’t say that too loud. With how crazy he’s been acting, I wouldn’t put it past him.”

I laughed. I had to.
She
was calling
him
crazy? They were both batshit.

“Seriously, he’s driving me nuts. I can’t even leave the fucking house without a shadow. It’s worse than it was when I was in college,” she complained.

“I don’t see a shadow now,” I commented, scanning the busy restaurant.

“Matty’s in the car outside and Angelo is in the bathroom. He’ll be back any minute,” she answered dryly.

As if on cue, Angelo appeared at the end of the booth and squeezed in beside Mia, who reluctantly moved over to make room.

“Hey, Frankie. So what looks good?” he asked completely oblivious to the sideways death glare Mia was giving him.

“Dude, seriously? It’s girl time; get your own table.”

“But— “

“No buts. Go,” I demanded, pointing at an empty table about ten feet away for emphasis.

“You’re going to make me eat alone?” he asked.

“Yes!” Mia shouted, pushing his shoulder. “I swear to God, if you don’t get the fuck out of this booth right now I’m going to fucking stab you with a butter knife.”

“Jesus, fine. I’m gone,” Angelo said getting up and moving to the free table.

“Un-fucking-believable,” Mia seethed. “Since when do I have to threaten bodily harm to get one of my men to listen?”

“Since Carlo came back, and as much as I love you, he’s scarier.”

“We’ll see about that,” she muttered and returned her attention to her menu. I couldn’t help but smile at how bent out of shape she was about having someone worrying about her.

“Why do you keep looking out the window?” Mia asked, after our waiter took our order and left.

“Hmm? Oh, sorry. I’m just feeling kind of off today,” I said absently.

“Why?”

“It’s nothing,” I said waving her off.

“Bullshit! Tell me.”

“Christ on a cracker, I got some flowers delivered at work today, but I don’t know who they’re from,” I admitted.

Her nose scrunched up and her brows furrowed, “You got flowers?”

“Do you have to look so surprised?” I griped.

“Whatever. There wasn’t a card or anything?”

“No. That’s what’s weird. I called the flower shop and the order was placed online using a just the name John and prepaid card.”

“I don’t like that,” Mia said. “I don’t like it at all. It’s too soon after everything went down with the Russians. Do you have any idea who it could have been?”

“No, I thought maybe my mom, but flowers aren’t really her style and she definitely wouldn’t go through the trouble to hide that it was her.”

“You’re not seeing anyone are you?” she asked. Her tone told me if I’d been seeing someone and neglected to tell her she was going to skin me alive.

“No. Come on, I would have told you if I was seeing someone.”

“What about old boyfriends?”

“I don’t have old boyfriends,” I said, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. I really did not want to get into this with her right now. Angelo was too close and if there was even a chance he could hear I didn’t want to risk it. Not to mention the subject would bring up other shit that I didn’t want to discuss with anyone—even Mia.

“I don’t understand…” she said trailing off. “Oh my God, are you gay?” she asked suddenly.

“What? No!” I hissed. “Keep your fucking voice down!”

“Well how am I supposed to know? You’re a fucking hermit. Seriously, you’re a litter box away from being a crazy cat lady, and then you go and say something like that, I’ve got to wonder.”

I rolled my eyes and looked up at the ceiling, letting out a heavy sigh before I looked back at her. “It’s not like that. I don’t do boyfriends. The hookups that I have are few and far between—never a repeat—and they know nothing about me. It couldn’t be one of them, okay?”

“So you’ve never had a real relationship?” she asked.

“Seriously? I’m twenty-five, not forty.”

“I know, it’s just kind of weird. No boyfriends in high school or college? You’ve never been in love?”

Heat rose in my cheeks and an ache settled in my chest at her words. “Nope. I was a loner in high school after Enzo left and Eddie took off to do whatever the fuck he wanted. In college I was too busy focusing on school and hacking to bother with a boyfriend. I like it the way it is. If I have an itch that needs to be scratched, I go out and pick someone up. It’s cleaner that way, no messy feelings to get in the way,” I said flippantly.

Mia narrowed her eyes at me, clearly not buying it, but she didn’t push. I liked that about her; she knew when to let it go. “Okay, so no ex-boyfriends. Has anything else happened that was out of the norm?”

“No, nothing. The lady at the flower shop said it was strange but didn’t really make a big deal about it. Maybe it’s nothing,” I said, trying to convince myself more than Mia.

“Hmm, maybe. I don’t know. I think you should consider taking some security with you for a while—just in case.”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me. Were you not just complaining about
your
security detail?” I asked incredulously.

“That’s because mine is totally unprovoked. The flower thing is creepy, and in our line of business, it’s better to be safe than sorry.” She said the last part quietly. Her eyes were unfocused and she was staring off into nothing. Suddenly she shook her head and cleared her throat. “I think it would be a good idea, at least for a little bit. If nothing else happens then we can forget about it.”

“No.”

“Frankie—” she started to protest but I interrupted her.

“I can be just as stubborn as you, so just drop it. This is a one-off incident; in fact, we don’t even know that it’s an incident
at all
. Getting flowers isn’t exactly threatening, Mia.”

“Fine, but you have to promise me that if anything else weird happens you’ll let me know right away, okay?”

“I promise,” I said, both relieved and a little leery that it had been fairly easy to convince her to back off. Before I had time to consider it further, the waiter brought us our food.

“Thank God, I’m starving. Eat fast, we have an appointment at the dress boutique in half an hour,” she said, digging into her bowl of pasta with reckless abandon.

Note to self: don’t get between a pregnant woman and her food. You might lose a finger.

After lunch, we drove a few blocks over to the boutique. Matty and Angelo happily stayed in the car while we headed inside for what could only be my personal version of Hell.

“Oh my God,” I whispered to myself when we walked in. We were greeted by a sea of tulle, lace, and sparkles. I instantly wanted to run.

“Isn’t this great?” Mia asked excitedly. She was beaming from ear to ear. “Normally I’m not huge on shopping, but this is different. I’m getting married!”

“Yeah, must be really exciting.”

What did I do to deserve this?

“What, you don’t want to get married at some point? Come on, it’s every girl’s dream.”

I just shrugged.

“Please! One day you’re going to find the perfect man and fall in love and I’ll be there to make fun of you the whole time,” she said confidently and turned her attention to the attendant that was approaching.

You can find the perfect man and fall in love, but if he doesn’t love you back, it’s not exactly happily ever after.

“You must be Mia. Oh look at you—such a young bride, and you’re positively glowing! I’m Helen. I’ll be assisting you today,” she said brightly. She was a tall woman in her mid-forties, and a little on the thin side, which was accentuated by her tight pencil skirt and tailored peach jacket.

“Yes, and this is my friend, Frankie. She’s going to help me pick out a dress,” Mia said politely.

The woman cut her gaze to me and pursed her lips disapprovingly as she took in my black leggings, biker boots, and leather jacket.

I lifted my chin, meeting her eyes in defiance. I wore my leather jacket and bad attitude like armor. Because the louder they were, the less likely someone was to take a chance on getting to know me. My prickly exterior prevented me from letting someone in who would eventually disappoint me.

“Hmm,” she said dismissing me and turning her attention back to Mia. “So, do you have any idea what kind of style you’re looking for?”