DeLuca (Mafia Romance)

Eddie

Age 18

10 years earlier…

I stood still as a statue watching them. He had his hands on her hips, their heads pressed together and I wanted to kill him. The rage built in my body, crawling up my limbs, and the buzzing in my head increasing. It was wrong. She was mine. He didn’t get to touch her.

“Frankie, your mother wants you,” I said, my voice coming out strangled with thinly-veiled anger.

Enzo’s head snapped up, and he took an automatic step away from Frankie, his arms falling to his sides. I watched as her face fell for just a moment at the loss of his touch before she fixed her expression to neutral. My eyes bore into her; I was sure she could feel the fury in my gaze. She held my eye for just a moment before casting a cursory glance at Enzo out the corner of her eye and squeezing past me towards the living room.

Her arm brushed against mine, and the tropical scent from the lotion she wore filled my nostrils, causing my eyes to involuntarily close for a moment. I knew exactly which scent she used; I knew everything about her. I’d watched her, memorizing every detail. In the past two years since Enzo had left, my fantasies had gotten more vivid and detailed, and my compulsion to watch her-to fill every moment with her-had become impossible to ignore.

“What are you doing?” I spit out harshly.

Enzo’s head drew back in shock at my tone and his eyes narrowed on me. “What do you mean?”

“Why were you touching her? You don’t get to do that. You’re leaving again. Are you trying to make it harder on her?” Guilt. Guilt always worked on people, especially the weak ones. It was the easiest way to get someone to do what you wanted. I’d learned long ago that too many people cared too much about what other people thought and guilt was one of the strongest and easiest emotions to play upon.

Enzo’s face hardened. “It’s none of your business, Eddie,” he said angrily and went to walk past me, but I stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

“It is my business; I’m the one that has to pick up the fucking pieces!” I seethed.

“It’s only two more years,” Enzo argued, glaring down at me.

“Then she goes off to college. Are you going to follow her? Or convince her to stay home? That’s not fair.”

“We can figure it out,” Enzo said running a hand over his shaved head.

“She’s sixteen, what the hell do you think you’re going to figure out?” I pressed, noticing his frustration.

“Why do you care? She said you haven’t even been around since I left!”

I narrowed my eyes, biding my time as I thought of a reasonable excuse. I couldn’t tell him about the fantasies, the thoughts whirling in my mind of all the things I wanted to do to her. All the things I knew I would give into if I was alone with her for too long.

“I’ve been busy. This isn’t about me,” I gritted out. “You’re too old to be lusting after a teenage girl. You need to back off.” Satisfaction bloomed in my chest at the stunned expression on Enzo’s face.

“It’s Frankie. It’s not like I’m trolling the fucking high school. Nothing is even going on yet, so don’t give me that shit.”

Yet. That word stuck in my head. No, it could never be. I wouldn’t allow him to ruin her for me. “You’re right, it is Frankie, and you don’t own her.”

He blinked, tilting his head to the side and inspecting me closer. Yeah, we’d grown up together, but he didn’t know me like he thought he did. No one did. No one knew the things that played out in my head; I kept them secret, hidden from everyone. They only got the Eddie I wanted them to see.Belongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.

“You don’t…” he started then paused before squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head. “You can’t be serious, Eddie; you just can’t. How long?”

“How long what?” I asked, confused for once at what he was talking about. I didn’t like it. I was always three steps ahead. I didn’t like not being in control of the situation.

“How long have you wanted her?” he asked, defeat in his tone.

I looked down at the dingy carpet of the hallway, the same cheap brown carpet that had been there since we were kids, parts of it bald from years of traffic. The whole house was run down and stank of mildew and age. I hated this place.

I swallowed hard and looked back up at my cousin. “For as long as I can remember,” I said keeping my voice low.

The truth was the fantasies had started out tame when we were children and increased as we got older until every night I would lie awake playing out the most disturbing of my fantasies while I touched myself. Finally finding sleep when my mind was filled with images of her bloodied body and my own release filled my hand. I knew it was wrong-not normal-but I also knew that eventually I wouldn’t care. In the meantime, he couldn’t have her.

“Jesus Christ!” Enzo growled, turning to slam a heavy fist into the wall. The music from the party drowned out his outburst, but the hole in the drywall remained as evidence.

“Please don’t do this to me. Please,” I pleaded with him. My resentment toward my cousin had grown exponentially over the past two years and it turned my stomach to grovel, but it was the only card I had left to play.

“Are you sure?” he asked, begging with his eyes for me to deny it.

“I love her,” I said simply. It was about the only honest thing I’d said to him the entire conversation. In my own twisted way, I loved her.

Enzo looked away from me, the muscle in his jaw ticking as he stared at the wall covered in pictures from our childhood without really seeing any of them. Finally, he turned back to me, eyes shuddered and face blank. “Fine. I won’t make a move, but neither will you. You’re my blood, and I’m not going to fuck with that over a girl, even if it is Frankie. But you have to promise me you won’t go there either,” he demanded.

I felt my eye twitch, a reflexive response to being told I couldn’t have what I wanted but I nodded my head, aware that I wasn’t going to actually follow through with it.

Enzo let out a breath and tipped his chin to me. “I need a fucking beer,” he said pushing past me to join the party.

Once he was past me, I let the grin I’d been holding in spread across my lips. I’d won. Enzo was nothing if not loyal and he’d given me his word that he wouldn’t touch her. I, on the other hand, wasn’t loyal to him; I had no reason to be.

Frankie was mine and I’d have her one day.