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  I wanted that again too. I dropped my pants and picked her up slamming her against the wall. She wanted me as much as I wanted her. I could fucking see it in her eyes and all over her.

  My blood heated at the thought, pumping hot and virile through my veins. My chest pounded along with my heart when she wrapped her gorgeous legs around my waist, then gasped, arching her back when I thrust hard into her tight pretty pussy.

  She screamed out with a cry of pure, hot, pleasure that grew louder as I started fucking her, searing into her with my cock like I was branding her. She tightened her grip on me as I started rutting into her, pumping faster, and faster. Deeper and harder as I kept her pinned against the wall.

  She felt amazing, being inside of her, my skin against her tight walls was the ultimate pleasure and I knew I didn’t want anyone else beside her.

  Not ever.

  I positioned her so she was closer to me. Close enough so I could kiss her. Kiss her with that same primitive need and pleasure that fueled me to make her mine. And, damn I could feel my release building, rising and building. We kissed open mouth as if trying to hold on to that rise of pleasure I knew took her too. Then it grabbed us hard and fast. Pleasure raced over my entire body, licking at my nerves like fire.

  “Gio …” she breathed against my lips.

  I couldn’t respond. The oncoming sensations rendered me speechless. I jackhammered and thundered into her like a storm; my body tensing, blood pumping hot as I flooded her.

  We stayed against the wall just like that until our breathing calmed, just holding each other. Her arms around me and me holding her to my chest.

  We couldn’t stay here. Not here, or in Philly.

  I had to figure something out, but not tonight though. She was coming home with me.

  * * *

  We lay in my bed kissing. Me devouring her and in turn her devouring me.

  That had been us since Friday night when we got here. It was Sunday morning.

  Sunday morning came quickly and it was like the time just passed us by. I didn’t want to let the world in.

  I didn’t want to allow anyone to come in and take her from me.

  Fucking Paul would have absolutely gone mad. Lyssa was home for the summer break and she lived with him when she was home. I was scheduled to go to Chicago next week and I had an idea.

  “Come with me to Chicago.” I whispered against her skin.

  She straightened up and looked at me. “What? Really?”

  “Yes. Come with me. Come with me and I’ll just go to Browns with you in September and get a place out there.”

  She looked me over in complete disbelief. “Gio, are you serious? You’d do all of that for me?”

  “Well I don’t think I could take your dad kicking my ass more than the one time. Once was quite enough. Don’t you think?”

  She laughed and smoothed her arms around my neck to pull me back to her, closing the space between us.

  “This is the best thing ever, Gio.” She breathed.

  “I just want to make you happy.” I did too. I’d decided that was my mission. It was all I wanted to do with my life.

  “I am. Thank you for choosing me.”

  “Always baby.” I kissed the side of her face and fuck my stupid phone started ringing again. Buzzing against the hard wood of the floor. I’d turned off the sound last night.

  Only God could count the number of times the fucking phone rang.

  I didn’t answer it. I hadn’t wanted Marshall calling me trying to convince me to go to the warehouse. I definitely didn’t want to speak to Paul cussing my ass, because he would have known Lyssa was with me.

  The phone rang out and then almost immediately started up again.

  I ignored it and the same thing happened again.

  When the phone rang again this time, it seemed like it was ringing with more insistence and I decided to answer.

  “Shit, Lyssa. I better get that and face the music.” I chuckled. “That’s probably your dad calling to chew my ass.”

  She looked worried. “I don’t know what to do about him.”

  “Leave him to me.” It was for me to worry about. I understood his concern and it was for me to show him I’d take care of her.

  I got off the bed and reached for the phone.

  I bit the inside of my lip when I saw it was Paul for sure. There were at least twenty missed calls from Marshall and nearly the same number from Paul.

  “Hello.” I said trying to sound cool and calm.

  There was silence on the other end and I almost thought he’d hung up until I heard him sigh.

  “Gio,” Paul said. His voice held a rasp to it that made him sound far away.

  “Hi Paul.”

  “I’ve been calling you all night. Why didn’t you answer? Why the hell didn’t you answer?” Now he sounded like he was crying.

  No… hold up, he actually was crying. I would have been quick to think it was, because he knew I was with Lyssa and it was because he was worried. Still Paul wasn’t that guy. He didn’t cry for anything.

  So, something else must have brought him to tears.

  “I’m sorry. Paul, what’s going on?”

  Lyssa pulled the sheets over her breasts and sat up.

  “Marshall. Marshall …” he started sobbing and that was when my stomach clenched and my chest tightened.

  “Marshall what, Paul?” I was afraid to ask the question and even more afraid of the answer.

  “Gio, Marshall’s … my boy, he’s dead.” Paul sobbed. “They killed him.”

  I looked at Lyssa and dropped the phone.

  It echoed on the floor.

  “Gio, what happened?” she asked

  I couldn’t answer. I just started at her. Numb…

  She got off the bed and picked up the phone to speak to Paul. “Dad, what happened? Tell me.”

  When she screamed and started crying I knew Paul told her.

  Twenty missed calls from Marshall.

  I’d never know what he had wanted me for.

  Chances were, it was to back him up. I never answered the phone.

  Chapter 5

  Lyssa

  * * *

  Eight years ago …

  I used to wonder why in films where there’d been a murder of a loved one why family members asked to be left alone when the police wanted to question them.

  It didn’t make sense to me. Never did at the time. I’d always thought it was so odd, because wouldn’t you want to help the police find the person responsible for killing your loved one?

  It always felt unnatural to me. It was like the tv and movie writers got that wrong, because people didn’t behave that way in real life.

  I wholehearted believed that. I guess though that until I experienced such a horrific occurrence for myself, I wouldn’t know what the right reaction should be.

  As Detectives Suarez and Chase sat on the sofa opposite me, asking questions I recalled my stupid assumption and I knew now that those writers had the emotion spot on correct.

  When you lost a loved one the way I lost Marshall you didn’t want to speak, let alone speak about what happened. The police were just doing their jobs. Yes, I wanted justice, answers, and wanted to know why someone would kill my brother. Mostly I just wanted to be left alone to cry—to cry and scream.

  Cry, to relieve my soul from the all-encompassing grief inside me.

  Cry to try and release my mind from all that consumed it. The thing was I had feared this. I was afraid that this would happen one day. It scared me and I always believed Marshall would be okay, because he had Gio.

  Except that, when he was killed Gio had been with me. Marshall had gone somewhere without Gio and got himself killed.

  We all had to give our stories of when we last saw Marshall. Gio told the police he’d tried to stop Marshall from going to some tryout for some illegal shit, but he went anyway. Gio was supposed to go with him and I knew why he didn’t.

  I had given him that stup
id ultimatum. Come to the lake house if you love me.

  He came and this was what happened next.

  Detective Suarez reached over and tapped my hand.

  “Miss Carson, are you able to answer the question?” He gave me a little smile. It was one of reassurance. I just didn’t know what the question was since I’d zoned out again.

  I looked at him, then over to my dad sitting in the armchair looking like his soul was broken. Dad had gotten worse as the days went by. I just watched him digress and become a mere shadow of a person he’d been.

  “What … um … what did you ask me?” I said, but I was still looking at Dad.

  “Can you remember anyone else you may have seen your brother talking to? Anyone you haven’t mentioned before. It helps to have a good range of people we can look at,” Detective Suarez said.

  I returned my gaze to him and shook my head. “I don’t. I don’t know anything, but I’ll ask …” my voice trailed off. What the hell?

  I must have had some memory slip or displacement of reality, because I was just going to say I’ll ask him; my now dead brother.

  My mind hadn’t processed it yet. Not fully. It couldn’t accept that Marshall was really gone.

  When people used to ask me stuff about him, mainly girls who were interested in him, that used to be my go-to answer.

  I’ll ask him …

  A tear ran down my cheek and I brought my hand up to my head. I couldn’t do this. I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Another reason why people didn’t want to talk when something like this happened; it made it real. It made it all too real and I didn’t want this reality.

  I wanted to wake up from this nightmare. Run down those stairs into the kitchen and I’d be eight years old again. Dad would be making pancakes for breakfast and he’d have to make me more, because Marshall ate mine. He blamed it on Copernicus, our border Collie.

  I wanted that day again. That time, all those years ago when we were just a little family and happy together. I didn’t remember Mom. She’d died when I was two. I had pictures though and somehow that was enough. Dad and Marshall were enough for me.

  I didn’t know what nightmare road I’d ended up on for this to be my reality. A time where Marshall had been killed, shot in some gang war apparently and he was the only person who’d died.

  “Miss Carson–”

  “I’m sorry I can’t. No more. Can you come back another day? I don’t really know anything. I just want him back.” Uncontrollable tears ran down my cheeks and blurred my vision. I couldn’t even see them.

  “Yes. That’s okay. I think we’re done with questions for the moment. The coroner should be in touch later today so you can make arrangements.”

  I looked at him, he had kind eyes. He seemed knowledgeable and I knew he was simply telling me what he had to, but I didn’t want to hear those words.

  Coroner …

  Arrangements … No.

  They had to tell me though, because Dad was out of action. He looked like an empty shell whereby he was here in body, but not in mind. Dad looked far, far away in his mind as he just stared at the coffee table.

  Jesus, I couldn’t do this and I didn’t know where Gio was.

  It had been nearly two weeks now. Two weeks since it had all happened and Gio had been out on the streets every day. Looking and searching, he was doing his part in his own way to find the people responsible. I just wished he was here. Here with us. Here with me.

  Carla was here as much as she could be, but she’d had to leave two days ago to visit her sick grandmother in Brazil. It was the only reason why she’d left me.

  Having her here would have helped me. Gio though, I felt that with him here the days wouldn’t feel so hard.

  The detectives left, Dad and I remained where we sat. I didn’t know how long for, but I got up since I needed the bathroom and a drink of water. My throat was dry and I must have cried out all the water in my body.

  When I got back to the living room Gio was there. My heart leapt when I saw him. I wanted to run into his arms and stay there forever.

  I had to hold back though, because of Dad. Dad had told Gio to stop seeing me, but he didn’t listen to him, and … I knew Dad knew we were together. I had missed calls on my phone too that night. I had missed calls from my dad and messages of him asking me where I was. Besides, I hadn’t come home and usually if I was going to be staying at Carla’s for a sleepover, I’d tell him. I’d always told him where I was so he wouldn’t worry.

  I was never the girl to cause him unnecessary stress, but damn was I ever furious at him for telling Gio to stop seeing me.

  Gio stood over him, but Dad was still in the same position. He’d gotten that way after we’d met up with him and came back to the house. The police said it was probably, because he had to identify Marshall’s body.

  “Paul, do you want something to eat?” Gio asked. No answer from Dad. “or drink, can I get you something? Anything?”

  At the mention of anything, Dad actually moved his head. He moved his head and looked full on at Gio, eyes flat and cold, almost expressionless.

  I thought he was going to say something, but he kept his silence. He just stared at Gio holding his gaze and I realized the answer was there.

  Anything …

  He wanted Marshall back the same as me. He wanted Marshall back and he blamed Gio for his death.

  The thought gripped me. It crushed me and made me feel guilty, because all the happy memories I had of us as a family were mostly before Gio had been a part of our lives. Before Gio had an influence on Marshall. There was no way in hell that I blamed Gio for anything. It wasn’t his fault. Dad though, yes … blame was in his eyes.

  I’d never seen Gio cry until these last few days that we’d been in this nightmare.

  My heart squeezed when a tear trickled down the side of his jaw and nestled in his beard.

  He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped and just walked out back. He didn’t see me, not even noticing me standing there.

  I followed him into the garden where I saw him grab one of the glass bottles from the recycling bin and launch it at the tree. It smashed and shards of glass splattered everywhere.

  He grabbed another and another until the bin was empty. He growled and cursed taking out all his frustration. It looked like he wasn’t done either.

  It was only when he saw that the bin was empty that he whirled around and saw me, standing on the terrace.

  I went over to him and he hung his head down. Not wanting to look at me. He’d been doing that too, trying his best not to look at me.

  “Gio, please … calm down.”

  “I can’t Lyssa, how can you tell me that? Calm down? Marshall is dead.” He cried.

  I held him. I continued to hold him, so he knew that I was here for him. I wanted him to be there for me too. It was only in these moments that I felt like I had hope. Just the slightest touch from him gave it to me.

  I pulled back so I could look at him and he looked at me. Shame filled his eyes, but he was looking at me.

  His hand just skimmed over my cheek when Dad’s voice echoed over us.

  “Leave her alone.” Dad wailed making us jump apart.

  Dad who hadn’t moved or spoken much in the last two weeks seemed to take on a new life.

  He marched down to where we stood and pushed Gio, shoving him hard in the chest.

  Dad was the same height as Gio, but Gio had muscle. He was the whole package that screamed he wasn’t a man to be messed with. I got the feeling though he’d allow Dad to beat him up and not do a damn thing about it. He’d stand there and take it—just like he was now.

  I screamed when Dad threw a punch to Gio’s face and split his lip.

  I really thought Gio was going to hit him back, but he just took it.

  “Dad stop.” I grabbed his arm and tried to hold him back.

  Dad wouldn’t look at me, just like Gio. He’d avoided looking at me this whole time like he was ashamed of me
.

  “You son of a bitch, don’t you touch my little girl. Don’t you dare touch her. Fucking bastard. It was you. Your fault Marshall’s dead. You may not have shot him, but you put him there. You changed my boy into something I didn’t even recognize. All your fault!” Dad was screaming and crying, all the while Gio just took it. He watched Dad and took it. “Get the fuck off my property and leave my child alone. I won’t allow you to take her from me too. LEAVE!”

  God, it was like reality just shook and stole that last shred of hope that I had.

  Gio walked away, not looking back.

  He walked away. I knew why he didn’t retaliate. It was obvious, clear as the water in the Crystal Spring.

  He blamed himself for Marshall’s death too.

  * * *

  Another two weeks passed. The time was spent with me organizing the funeral. Me, all by myself organizing the funeral.

  I couldn’t believe I had to do it.

  Dad only got worse. He stopped eating and confined himself to his room.

  He’d lost so much weight in that time, his suit looked too big for him.

  All that time Gio stayed away. He actually stayed away; from us, away from me.

  My poor heart couldn’t stand it. All of it was too much.

  I was nineteen years old and I felt more like ninety-one. My body ached with the grief that assailed me. I didn’t know how I managed to get myself to the church or stand up in front of all those people, friends, and family to give the eulogy.

  I imagined Gio sitting with me, but he was at the back. He sat at the back of the church and never once looked at me.

  All the people I wanted to see me, were purposely shutting me out and I was shutting down. Keeping me mountains apart from them when I was screaming inside for comfort.

  The coffin was inches away from me. Because of the way Marshall’s body had been mangled and riddled with bullets we’d had it closed. It was all like one of those surreal paintings. Strange and dreamlike, like I was going through the motions, but not really here.

  It all hit me hard at the cemetery as they laid him to rest. My uncle had to comfort Dad. Dad was so distraught he had to be taken away.