By Any Other Name (8 page)

"Come on," Dante said, grabbing her arm and pulling on it, forcing her to take a few steps backward. "We're getting out of here. I'm not risking it."

"Not risking it?" she asked, grudgingly pulling her gaze away from Matty to turn around as her brother continued to drag her away. "You
never
retreat."

"If you weren't here, no problem, but I'm not putting you in harm’s way."

She scoffed. "I'm not afraid."

"You should be," he said, his voice low as he cut his eyes at her. "Do you know what they'd do to you, Genna? Those people… those Barsantis? They're fucking savages. How many times has Dad told you that?"

Practically every day of her young life. "What are they going to do, kill me? Right here, in the middle of a busy neighborhood, in broad daylight?"

Dante's footsteps stopped abruptly, his grasp on her tightening. "No, Genna, they won't kill you. They won't
just
kill you, anyway. They'll stalk you, and they'll take you, because you're an easy target, and then they'll do things to you… things that'll make you
wish
they would just kill you."

His harsh words left her momentarily speechless.

"And that's when they'll kill you," he continued. "Only after you ask them, only after you beg them to end your misery. And they'll enjoy it. Believe me. They'll make sure when we find you…
if
we find you… that we won't even recognize you."

"How do you know?"

"How do I know?" He raised his eyebrows. "I know because Mom and Dad couldn't recognize Joey."

She flinched at his words, as if she'd been punched in the gut. "That's different."

"Is it?" he asked. "They killed him, Genna, and there wasn't even enough left for an identification."

"I know that," she said, tears stinging her eyes. "I know what happened."

"Yeah, well, I
remember
it, and I'm not going through that again."

Dante turned the corner, striding toward his car, while she lingered for a moment, casting a look over her shoulder, once more meeting Matty's eyes. He stared at her as if nothing else existed.

She wished, more than anything, that she could trust that look.

"Badass, huh?"

Matty tore his eyes from down the block when Genna jetted around the corner, obediently following her brother… her brother, the one and only Dante Galante. Who would've guessed?
Not me
.
Not in a million years.
His gaze fell on Enzo as he stood there, staring at him, grinning like a fool. "What?"

"The Ice Princess," he replied, motioning toward the corner where Genna had been just moments before. "Genevieve Galante. She's a looker, ain't she?"

Images flashed through Matty's mind: Genna beneath him, crying out his name, violently convulsing with pleasure so intense he saw tears in her eyes. When she came, over and over… Jesus, he'd never seen anything so beautiful before. "She's something, alright."

Enzo slapped him on the back jokingly. "Too bad she's one of them."

"Yeah," Matty muttered. "Too bad."

His day went from sky fucking high to in the shitter, and all it took was that one word:
Galante
. Ironic, he thought. The name meant gallant, brave, amorous, when as far as he was concerned, those people were anything but. The Galante family bred spineless, callous cowards, led by the biggest heartless brute of them all.
Primo
.

How could that girl, that glowing angel dropped from Heaven straight into his defunct elevator, be that barbarian's spawn?

Matty had been disconnected from the lifestyle for years—most of his life, it seemed—but he knew the stories as well as anyone. His father never failed to fill him in whenever he came to visit.

"Those cockroaches are at it again," he'd say. "Might have to take it to the mattresses soon."

Every visit, same thing for years… another war was brewing, much like the one that had ignited the deadly rivalry sixteen years ago.

He mulled over that as he drove to his parent's house, a vast townhouse near Central Park West. Enzo sat in the passenger seat, yammering away like a little yippee-ass pup. Usually he didn't mind his brother's need for constant chatter, but today he was making it difficult for Matty to think.

"They'll know you're here now," Enzo said as Matty pulled the Lotus up to the front of the house and cut the engine.

He glanced at his brother. "Who?"

"The Galante clan. They saw you're back."

Saying he was
back
was misleading, as if he were ever really involved in the first place. His little brother was the one knee-deep in the life. Enzo lived it. Breathed it. Loved it. As far as Matty went? He just tried to survive it. He'd been trying to survive it since he was a kid, too young to have to deal with having a bounty on his head.

The son pays for the father's sins.

Enzo burst in the front door of the house, leaping up and slapping the top of the doorframes as he went, creating a ruckus as usual. Sighing, Matty walked in behind him, hearing the soft, feminine voice call out from the nearby den. "Boys? That you?"

"Of course it is, Ma," Enzo hollered, striding right through the downstairs as he headed straight for the kitchen. "Who else would it be?"

Stepping into the den, Matty paused momentarily and gazed at her sitting on the corner of the plush burgundy couch, huddled up with a thick fleece blanket like it was the middle of winter and not eighty-eight fucking degrees. Even sick and growing frail, she still had a softness to her face, her round cheeks slightly flushed, her hair naturally curly, her eyes vivid as they zeroed in on him.

"Hey, Sugar Cube," she said, lightly patting the couch beside her in a silent invitation.

He strolled over and sat down on the edge of the cushion. "Mom."

"You doing okay?" she asked, smoothing the hair on the back of his head. "You look a little down."

"I'm fine," he said. "Just having one of those days."

He could feel her eyes on him, assessing and judging. She didn't believe him for a second. His mother was an intuitive woman. Had to be, to be married to his father. And as much as he hated lying to her, he couldn't tell her this. No, he couldn’t tell her the Galante girl had him wound tight, wrapped around her finger stronger than her legs had wrapped around his waist when he plowed into her on the pool table he'd gotten from his parents for his birthday.

Christ, he needed to stop thinking about that.

"You sure about that?" she asked hesitantly.

"Yes," he lied, turning to look at her. "More importantly, how are you?"

"I'm hanging in there." She smiled, a knowing twinkle in her eyes. "It's good to have you around, you know. I've missed you."

"Missed you, too, Mom." Those words nearly caught in his throat. He'd missed
a lot
, but especially her. Despite the circumstances, being cut off from his family for years, he and his mother had remained close.

"So what are you up to?" she asked. "Any exciting plans tonight?"

"You could say that."

"Really? What?"

"I intend to spend it making dinner for the most stunning woman on earth."

Her expression lit up. "Is that right?"

"Absolutely," he said. "Then we'll probably watch movies."

"Really?"

His lips twitched as he fought back a smile at the barely restrained eagerness in her voice. "Yep."

"Anyone I know?"

"Oh, definitely."

Her eyes widened. "Who?"

"You."

All at once, her excitement turned to exasperation. She hit him lightly as she shook her head. "You can't do that to me!"

"What?" He laughed as he blocked her weak punches. "It's true."

"I thought you meant a girl," she said. "I thought you finally
met
a girl."

"A girl more beautiful than you? Impossible."

"As charming as you are, Matty, you'd think you'd have found someone to settle down with by now. You're pushing twenty-five for crying out loud!"

"I have time," he said, immediately regretting those words when he saw the reality in her eyes. He might, but she didn't. They all knew it, even if none of them wanted to admit that truth out loud.

"I just want you to be happy," she said softly. "I want
all
of you to be happy."

"I know."

Before they could get into it anymore, Enzo strolled in, clutching a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He took a big bite out of it, obnoxiously chewing as he plopped down in a chair and threw his feet up on the corner of the coffee table. Their mother glared at him silently until he dropped his feet flat to the floor, tossing her a sheepish smile. "Sorry, Ma."

Upstairs, a door opened, heavy footsteps ambling down the hallway like steel against the hard wood. They approached the stairs, slowly descending them, each footfall sucking a little more of the warmth from the room.

Roberto Barsanti, short and stocky with a cleft chin and dark hair that faded to gray along the sides, oozed bitter coldness. He was severe—all business, all the time. Matty could never relate to his father, not like Enzo did, but he worshiped their mother and that was enough, for the moment, for him to maintain Matty's respect.

Roberto's beady blue eyes scanned the room when he stepped into the doorway, eyeing Enzo with approval and their mother with love, before shooting stern daggers straight at Matty. "Matteo."

He cringed. His father was the only one who insisted on always calling him by that name. "Father."

"It's good to see you."

Unlike when his mother said it, Matty felt nothing genuine in those words. "You, too."

"Speaking of
seeing
people," Enzo said, words muffled from a mouth full of food. "Guess who we ran into today, Pops."

"Who?"

"The Galante kids."

Matty's chest constricted at the reminder, while his father sneered, his lip curling angrily. "Where?"

"Little Italy, of course," Enzo said. "Matty was picking me up when they were coming down the street."

"Did they say anything to you?"

"Nah, of course not," Enzo said, taking another bite of his sandwich. "Dante tucked tail and ran like a little bitch."

"En," their mother chided. "Language."

"Sorry, Ma," Enzo said, hardly missing a beat before continuing. "His sister followed him, but not before they both saw Matty standing there."

Roberto's eyes widened as that dawned on him. "Did they recognize Matteo?"

"Dante, most definitely. The girl, nah. It's doubtful she's ever even heard of him."

The few times Matty ventured to the city over the years, he had been around during run-ins with some of the Galante crew. Dante and him had come face to face for the last time when he was eighteen, but Genna?

Never saw her before yesterday.

"Yeah," their father agreed. "You're right. Medusa wouldn't know him."

Matty grimaced at that nickname as their mother gasped. "Bobby! Don't call her that! She's just a girl!"

"My apologies, Savina," his father said. "I forgot."

More like he forgot she was listening to their conversation. They had called her that for years, so much so it was the only damn name Matty remembered.

Medusa. The Ice Princess.

Despite himself, he snickered bitterly under his breath when it dawned on him—as many times as his father had warned him away from her in passing, cautioning him about the dangerous Galante girl, he'd unknowingly fallen right into her trap.

"Something funny?" Roberto asked, staring at him.

"No," Matty said, shaking his head. It wasn't really funny at all, but the whole thing was still starting to feel like a big goddamn joke.

Roberto studied him for a moment before striding over, leaning down and kissing Savina softly on the corner of her mouth. "Call me if you need anything, honey."