Nick nodded, folded his hands, and drew a deep breath in through his nostrils.
“There’s a lot to my family that I have only just begun to learn, and I can say that much of what I wanted to believe was just lies or people besmirching us is, well, likely true,” he said. “And there’s some that even I don’t know about. So if it sounds like I’m playing coy with you, it’s not that. It’s just that there are some things I genuinely do not know or understand.
“But anyway…after Malcolm sent you to the hospital, I was in a world of rage. I…wanted to kill him myself, and that’s not an exaggeration. Had I seen him on the streets right after, I would have beaten him to a bloody fucking pulp and gone to jail myself. I didn’t care. I just needed to see that asshole gone. But I knew that that wasn’t feasible for many reasons.”
It was a moot point since Malcolm was dead, but there was a certain positive feeling that came from hearing that. I didn’t know if “happiness” was right, I couldn’t quite say I was happy Nick was willing to kill on my behalf, but I certainly felt as protected and secure as I ever had in my life. It was a point in his favor, for sure.
“So I made a call,” he said. “But I really felt like I was chasing an imaginary dog. Like, I made those calls out of desperation, not certainty. And, of course, whoever I spoke to were vague and didn’t say what they would do. When I hung up, I felt like something would happen, but I still figured I was just acting out of rage. I thought someone would get someone to beat Malcolm’s ass in jail, and that would be the end of that. I didn’t fucking know murder was going to happen.”
“Shh,” I said, sensing him losing control. I almost—almost—touched his hand to reassure him, but I had to withhold for the moment. Once we crossed that boundary, there was no going back.
“When I saw it on the news, the reaction you saw was not ‘oh I need to lie’ or ‘oh it happened like I thought it would but not while Izzy’s here.’ It was ‘what the fuck?’ Like in baseball, sometimes a manager will tell a pitcher to send a message by delivering a fastball near someone’s head. You don’t actually hit them, but the point gets made. Well, in this case, the guy just got drilled square in the head. And it killed him.”
Nick sighed.
“I’m sorry this whole situation has gotten to where it has. I don’t want you to feel like you’re dating someone with deep roots in organized crime. Because I’m not. I swear to you, Izzy, I am not playing baseball by day and night and then ordering people to off their enemies late into the evening. The Ferrari winery is real—”
“I know,” I said with a gentle smile, holding up my glass.
That probably wasn’t going to help keep the conversation neutral and even keeled, but it wasn’t like I wasn’t already leaning a certain way.
“Oh, nice. And, yeah. All of my siblings and I lead legitimate, normal lives. Well, except Leo, he’s sort of the oddball out. But the point is, I would never put you in danger. And God help me, Izzy, if things didn’t work out, I wouldn’t ever want you to feel like I’m a different version of Malcolm. It would suck, and it would hurt so bad, but I would just leave you be. I think you suffered enough after that TMZ shit.”
I looked down at my wine glass, processing everything Nick had just said.
What did my gut say?
He was genuine.
He was real.
He was perhaps hiding who he had called, but that didn’t matter, not in the grand scheme of things.
What mattered was Malcolm was gone, I felt safe with Nick, and I felt like I could start to go back to the way things were. And let’s just say that the way things were was pretty damn fun.
“You just have to understand,” I said as I took a sip of wine. “Imagine from my perspective that I meet this wonderful, great guy. He treats me well, is handsome, takes care of himself and his loved ones, doesn’t mind my past or my kid. But because of everything that had happened with my ex, I’m still on edge. And then my ex comes back and hurts me. But the guy says he’ll do whatever he can to help me and still treats me well. And then I find out my ex gets murdered, and the immediate reaction you have is one of guilt.”
I took another, longer sip of my wine.
“For the last several years, my life has been about survival and paranoia. That’s not something that you just snap your fingers and move past. You analyze every relationship through that lens. That’s why, after what happened at your family’s dinner, I had to get space. I had to make sure that I could see things clearly.”
“And do you?”
I had to smile. I was trying to stay as calm as I could, but damnit, my expression gave away my answer.
“I think that your family has a past that would worry a lot of people. And I’m not going to pretend that I don’t wonder what it could mean if someone in the family doesn’t like me. But I know that I’m not one to judge someone based on their past. I do my best to judge someone based on who they are now, how they treat me now, and how they comport themselves now. And honestly, Nick? You check all three.”
I swore it was like seeing him break a
