By Any Other Name

Matty held his arms out to her, and Genna didn't even hesitate, sliding right into his embrace.

  "I've missed you," she said quietly.

  "I missed you, too," he replied, kissing the top of her head. "It's been killing me, not seeing you… not knowing when I'd be able to see you again."

  "My father's had me on lockdown."

  "I know." Matty tilted her chin and softly kissed her lips, pulling back after a second and grimacing. "You're right."

  Her expression fell. "What?"

  "You taste like mint. Disgusting."

  Genna rolled her eyes, elbowing him as he laughed. "Funny."

  "You want something to sleep in?" he asked, loosing his hold on her to motion toward his large dresser along the side. "I'm sure there's something in there you can wear."

  "Sleep?" she asked hesitantly. "That's what you plan to do with me?"

  He nodded. "I plan to do everything with you, actually, and one thing we've yet to do is sleep together."

  As much as she loved hearing those words, her heart dropped at what sleeping together meant. There was a reason they hadn't done it, why they'd never been able to spend an entire night together before. "My family… they'll be looking for me."

  "I don't doubt it."

  "Dante will know exactly where to look," she said. "He knows about you… about us. He'll know I'm with you."

  "I don't doubt that, either."

  "He might tell." She believed Dante wouldn't tell on her just to tell—that wasn't his nature, at all—but if he thought she was in danger, if he thought her life was on the line, he would certainly spill what he knew. "You know, tell my father."

  "Wouldn't surprise me a bit."

  "So we shouldn't… I mean, we can't…"

  "You're right that we shouldn't. But I won't agree that we can't. We can, and I want to. I want to, because I want you, and I'm tired of not having you. I'm tired of staying away from you, of avoiding you. You're the last person I want to avoid." Sighing, Matty sat down on the end of his bed and grabbed Genna's hips, pulling her toward him. She stood between his legs, looking down at him as he gazed up at her, his expression serious. "Look, Genna, I'm giving you a choice… I'll take you home right now, make sure you're warm in your own bed tonight, where I'm sure your family will do everything in their power to protect you. I'll do that if that's what you want."

  "Or?"

  "Or you can stay here," he said. "Stay with me tonight, sleep in my bed, be with me. And I guarantee you, if you stay, I'll keep you safe. I'll protect you, no matter what. I won't let anything happen to you. But I can't be with you, Genna, and not be with you anymore."

  "But who's going to protect you?" she asked. "Who's going to keep you safe?"

  "You stepped in front of me when I had a loaded gun pointed at my chest," he said. "I think I'll be just fine."

  She pondered over that as she gazed at him. He meant every word of it. She could tell, believed it deep down in her soul, and although it terrified her still, what staying with him meant for her… for him… for them, she knew there wasn't really a choice to make. Staying with him meant choosing him.

  Hadn't she'd already chosen him?

  "I don't need any clothes to sleep," she said, leaning down to softly kiss him.

  "No?"

  "No," she whispered against his lips. "I like to sleep naked."

  He chuckled, grasping her hips tighter as he pulled her closer to him. "You'll hear no complaints from me."

  Genna grasped the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head, tossing it on the floor by her feet. Matty leaned over, trailing soft kisses along her stomach as his hands shifted forward, slowly unbuttoning her pants and sliding the zipper down. He tugged on the pants, pulling them down, and Genna kicked them off along with her shoes, leaving her in nothing but her black bra and lacy underwear. His hands roamed her skin, exploring, caressing, as he gazed at her soft flesh under the bright lights. He stared at her as if he were memorizing every curve, studying every mark, and line, and goose bump that coated her body, leaving no inch of her unexplored.

  Without another word, Matty tugged her onto the bed with him.

  Genna's heart painfully hammered in her chest, feverishly racing and banging against her ribcage to the rhythm of the music vibrating the car's speakers.

  Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

  Matty drove through Manhattan, flowing with traffic as he headed north. She had never seen him go the speed limit before.

  Didn't think the Lotus went this damn slow.

  He was nervous, distractedly drumming his fingers against the steering wheel as he obsessively checked his mirrors, monitoring the cars around them. Genna could feel the tension radiating from him, although he kept his expression blank, his shoulders relaxed so not to alarm her.

  Senseless, really. She was on edge. Nothing would calm her down.

  "You don't have to do this," she said quietly, once again trying to give him the chance to back out.

  "I'm not afraid, Genna," he replied.

  You ought to be, she thought. I sure as hell am.

  As if he could somehow sense her thoughts, Matty reached over and grasped her hand, gently squeezing it in an attempt to reassure her.

  Genna stared out the side window as the streets became more familiar to her, ones she ventured on day in and day out, the Lotus creeping through the core of Galante territory. Her heart somehow managed to pound even harder then, thrashing in her ears, the heated flow of blood making her feel sick.

  Ugh, please don't puke again.

  She pinched the bridge of her nose as she closed her eyes, trying to ease the sensation.

  "It's going to be okay," Matty said. He sounded like he really believed it. "Trust me."

  "I do."

  Genna reopened her eyes as they headed into Westchester County, heading straight for the Galante residence. The Lotus slowed even more, pausing in the street for a few seconds before turning onto the driveway that led to her house. Dante's car was right near the front door, parked crookedly as if hastily abandoned.

  Matty stopped a few yards away, putting the Lotus in park and turning to her. Silence surrounded them as they sat there for a moment, the engine purring as the car idled.

  "Do you need me to walk you in?"

  She scoffed. "Definitely not. I should, you know… face them alone. They're going to be upset enough, but maybe I can calm them down if, you know…"

  "If they don't have to look at my face."

  "Exactly."

  As gorgeous as she found that face, she knew the sight of it would send her family into a rage.

  "Well, call me if you need me," he said, staring at the front door of the house as it opened. Dante stepped out onto the porch. "If you need anything. I'll come get you, okay? Anytime, day or night. I mean it."

  "I will," she said, leaning over and quickly kissing him before getting out. She walked toward the front door, her arms nervously wrapped around her chest. She could sense Matty's concerned gaze on her from behind, while Dante's fierce stare burned through her from the porch.

  Slowly, the Lotus backed away before disappearing down the street. Genna stepped up onto the porch, avoiding looking at her brother, and tried to waltz right past him when he stepped in her path. Glancing up, she froze when her eyes connected with Dante's.

  He looked rough. Cuts and bruises marred his tanned skin, his nose badly swollen. The sight of his obvious injuries made her chest ache. "Dante, I—"

  Before she could get the words out, to tell him she was sorry if she worried him, to tell him she didn't want to fight, to tell him she loved him and never meant to hurt him with any of this, he snatched a hold of her and yanked her to him, hugging her tightly as he let out a deep breath. "Fuck, Genna, don't scare me like that."

  "I'm fine," she insisted, hugging him, lightly rubbing his back. "I was, uh..."

  "You were with him," Dante said. "I told you to wait in the car and instead you ran off with him."

  "I just..
." She was at a loss for words, unable to force out a complete thought. "Did you...? Is Dad...?"

  "He's in his office," Dante said. "Hasn't been to sleep, was up all night waiting for some sign from you."

  Genna sighed, pulling away. "You told him."

  There was no accusation in her tone. It was merely matter of fact, and she had expected no less.

  "I was worried," he said, his voice low.

  "I know," she whispered. "I'm fine, though."

  For now.

  Genna headed inside, hesitating in the foyer. Part of her wanted to rush upstairs, to camp out in her bedroom and hide beneath her covers for the rest of eternity, but she knew the longer she put it off, the worse it would be. She had to face her father. She had to face reality.

  Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she walked to his office and knocked on the door before pushing it open. Her father sat on the couch right inside and looked up at her as she entered, his expression so harsh, so unforgiving, it was as if his face had been chiseled from a block of rigid stone.

  "Matteo Barsanti," he said coldly.

  "Matty," she said, her voice hardly above a whisper.

  "Matty," he growled. "That's your Matty?"

  "Yes."

  He stared at her in silence, not softening a bit, intense rage focused straight on her as she stood there, fidgeting.

  "Do you hate me, Genevieve?" he asked finally, his voice dropping a pitch, low and menacing. "Do you hate our family that much?"

  "No." She shook her head. "I don't hate you at all."

  "You must, to turn your back on us," he said. "To turn your back on me, on your brother… your brothers. All of us! That family… they killed Joey. My Joey, my boy! They stole him from me, from us, and you're in cahoots with them! With the enemy!"

  "I'm not!" she said. "I'm not in cahoots with anybody."

  "Don't lie to me, girl!" Primo stood up, pointing his finger at her, his face twitching from the anger surging through him. The sight of it made Genna instinctively step back. Her father was a dangerous man. She wasn't at all in the dark about that. "I know you've been with that boy, that you've had secret meetings with him, that you've sought him out behind our backs. You've betrayed us!"

  "This isn't about you! It has nothing to do with you, or this family, or their family! This is about me, about him."

  "He's one of them!"

  She threw her hands up in frustration. "Oh, who gives a fuck?"

  "I do!" He moved toward her quickly, eliciting another retreat from Genna. "And if you cared anything about this family, it would matter to you, too. He's no good… he's poison! And you're drinking it, you're letting him infect you!"

  "I love him!" she shouted, the words tearing from her chest, unable to be contained. They seemed to echo through the room and hit her father so hard he flinched. "And I'm sorry if that upsets you… if that hurts you… but I do. I love him, and nothing you say or do can change that."

  "You're wrong."

  Genna's blood seemed to run cold at his words, his voice suddenly dropping low again.

  "You're playing a game of Russian Roulette with that boy," he continued, staring at her. "You might get lucky, you might come out unscathed a few times, but the odds are never always in your favor. All it takes is once… one time… for your finger to be on that trigger when that bullet is in the chamber. And then you won't come home anymore."

  "Maybe so," she said. "But given that this isn’t my war, I guess it was you who loaded the gun in the first place."

  He glared at her, his rage never lessening. After a moment he looked away with a grimace, like he couldn't stomach the sight of her anymore, and pointed toward the ceiling. "Go to your room."

  "I'm not one of your men," she said. "You can't boss me around."

  "You're my daughter."

  "I'm an adult."

  "As long as you live under my roof, Genevieve, you'll follow my rules."

  "Then maybe it's time for me to move out."

  He cut his eyes at her again and there, past the anger and resentment, she finally saw something else shining through. Fear. She had never quite seen her father afraid before. The sight of it startled her.

  "Go to your room," he said again, running his hands down his face, his voice hedging on pleading.

  Genna backed out of the room, turning around to head for the stairs, and nearly ran straight into Dante. He had been lurking behind her, listening. He said nothing, stepping out of the way to let her pass, before taking her place in their father's office and gently closing the door.

  Matty strolled into The Place, ordering a Roman Coke from the bartender before heading for the back of the bar, where Enzo sat, studiously counting money from the week's take. Tens, twenties, fifties, hundreds… stacks of cash covered the table in front of him, crinkled and worn.

  Blood money.

  Matty slid into the seat across from him, sighing as he sipped his drink. Enzo cut his eyes at him briefly, never losing his place, continuing counting even as he addressed his brother. "Where have you been?"

  Matty shrugged. "Dropped Genna off at home."

  "At home."

  "Yeah," Matty said. "Home."

  Enzo shook his head, turning to another stack to count. "You really do have a death wish, don't you?"

  "I wouldn't call it a wish," Matty said. "It's more of a disinterest."

  "Disinterest."

  "Yes."

  "I hate to break it to you, bro, but you ain't gotta be interested in death for it to find you."

  "Death has been after me since I was young," Matty said. "It doesn't matter what I do… when it's ready to find me, it will."

  "Yeah, well, you don't have to draw it a fucking map."

  Despite himself, Matty laughed at that, picking his glass up and taking another sip. Enzo continued counting, sorting out bills in silence, arranging them in different stacks before shoving them in envelopes. He pushed one across the table toward Matty, who picked it up and stuck it in his back pocket.

  "I still owe you about a grand," Enzo said, collecting the rest of the envelopes before standing up. "Have a few people that still need to pay up. I'll get to them later today, but first I have to head up north for a bit."

  North. Galante territory. "Why?"

  "Why is never a good question to ask," Enzo said, slapping his brother on the back as he walked past. "You'll never get the answer you want to hear."

  "Why?"

  Enzo laughed, glancing over his shoulder at him. "Trust me, you don't want to know."

  He didn't. He was smart enough to realize that. Whatever they were up to, he wanted nothing more than to stay out of it, and to keep Genna far, far away from the danger.

  Sighing, he set his glass down and pulled out his phone, glancing at the screen. She hadn't called yet, so that was promising. If she didn't need him, she must be okay.

  I hope, anyway.

  After finishing what was left of his drink, he stood back up and headed for the door. As soon as he stepped outside, the sound of his brother's voice captured his attention as he spoke animatedly to someone along the curb. Matty glanced over, surprised that Enzo hadn't left the neighborhood yet, and froze when he caught a familiar gaze.

  His father.

  "Matteo," Roberto said, stalling Enzo mid-sentence as he diverted the attention straight to Matty. Others surrounded them, some Matty didn't know, with the Civello brothers lingering off to the side, waiting.

  Without speaking, Matty nodded at his father in greeting, not having much to say to the man. They hadn't shared more than a handful of words in over a month, not since the night of his mother's funeral. She had been their connection, their last tendril of true relationship, and without her they felt like nothing more than strangers who happened to share a name.

  "I heard something fascinating this morning," Roberto said. "Something about the Galante girl."

  "Yeah?" Matty feigned ignorance as he kept his expression blank. "What's that?"

  "Wh
y don't you tell me, son?"

  Matty shook his head. "Nothing to tell."

  "Ah, so you're not seeing her?"

  A frigid silence followed that question as everyone within earshot stiffened, questioning gazes darting straight to Matty, awaiting his response. He stood there on the sidewalk, staring right at his father as sweat beaded along his forehead at the intensity of which he stared back.

  "So what if I am?"

  Matty's shoulders squared, his muscles tensing as he prepared for an argument, prepared to defend himself to his father, to defend Genna, but instead of lashing out, Roberto's expression lit up, a smirk tugging his lips that he didn't even bother containing. Within a matter of seconds, he full on grinned, a light chuckle escaping.

  Matty's blood ran cold. He would have preferred fury. This was a man tickled with amusement, like it was nothing more than a big joke to him. "I don't see what the hell is so funny."

  "Funny, no," Roberto said, "but definitely interesting."

  He turned away from Matty, his attention going back to Enzo as he motioned with his head for him to leave. Enzo nodded, acknowledging their silent conversation, as Roberto walked away to get in a waiting car. The others scattered as Enzo lingered there, waiting until everyone else was gone before sighing. "I swear I didn't tell. The Civello brothers heard it on the streets… Galante had word out last night, looking for his daughter. Spread like wildfire that she was somewhere with you."

  "It doesn't matter," Matty said, eyeing his brother peculiarly. "Why are you heading up north, En?"

  "Thought we covered this," Enzo said.

  "We did, but I changed my mind," Matty said. "I wanna know now."

  Enzo pulled out his keys, dangling them up so they jangled. "Come along and find out then."

  The smell of marinara hung in the air, infiltrating Genna's lungs and making her stomach growl with every breath she took. It was late, well after nine o'clock, everything from dinner cleaned up and the staff gone for the day.

  She hadn't come down for dinner, figuring it was best to just stay in her room, and her father hadn't sent Dante after her. But it got to be too much after a while, her hunger getting the best of her. She had breakfast that morning with Matty, then had lunch with him that afternoon before he brought her home, yet she felt like she hadn't eaten in days.