“Your father called me,” I say, swallowing around the way the words taste like ashes in my mouth. “I hung up on him. He wanted to know how long I planned to keep playing him. I couldn’t very well tell him I planned to do it right until he died, could I?”
Rosa curses a blue streak in Italian, and I just soak up the sound of her voice. Desperate to do something to hold onto that, I begin recording the call. Maybe listening to her voice will help me when she hangs up. I’ll get my earphones and sleep out on the porch while listening to her.
God, I’m pathetic, aren’t I?
“The man is dying, regardless of how ruthless and mean he is. How bad is your pain, Nico? Pablo is restless and can’t sleep. Don’t be a hero. This is affecting him too.”
“It wasn’t before,” I rasp out, bending forward as a wave of nausea rolls over me.Fuck.“I’m not sure why it is now.”
“You’re impossible, Nico. What do you need?”
You.“Nothing, Rosa. I’m walking it off. I might need to see you tomorrow.”
Talking to her is helping, but I’m not going to tell her that. Closing my eyes against the burning sensation behind them, I focus on breathing as my hearing goes out. All I can hear is ringing in my ears, and my knees buckle as I fall to the ground.
The phone stays in my hand, but only barely. Flopping onto my back to keep from falling on my face, I stare sightlessly up at the stars.
“Nico. Nico!” A slap across my face makes me groan, I see my brother’s too handsome mug above me.
“Dario, I’m fine,” I lie, each word slurring into the other.
“No you’re not. I heard you fall. Ciro and I haven’t been able to sleep, knowing you’re out here.”
“Pshh. You were both snoring when I got up,” I groan.
Ciro plucks the phone from my numb fingers, and I vaguely hear screaming on the other end.
“Rosa, it’s Ciro. He’s being stubborn. Yes. No, he looks like shit.”
“Don’t tell her that,” I pant, forcing myself not to writhe in pain. It feels as if I’m being torn apart, and the only thing I can think of that’s different is that the scent match is now active on both sides.
Goddamnit. I don’t know if I can survive this much pain day in and out. I don’t want to hurt Pablo, but I also don’t want to put unnecessary strain on Rosa. I can’t fucking win. Maybe drugs will help.
“Stronzo. Don’t fucking fall asleep,” Dario growls, pushing his fingers on my lids to hold them open.
“I wish I could sleep,” I grunt. “Then I wouldn’t be a pain in everyone’s ass.”
“Don’t be a hero, Nico. It doesn’t fucking suit you.”
“We’re moving,” Ciro grunts, pocketing my phone in his sweatpants. “Up, asshole.”
Together, my brothers haul me up and begin dragging me back into the house.
“Where are we going?” I ask, my chin drooping to my chest.
“To see Rosa,” Ciro grunts. “Your wife, remember? The woman you gave your undying love to, even as you threatened to fucking divorce her. Why are you the first born? Aren’t they supposed to be the smart ones?”
“No, just the most self sacrificing,” I mutter, eyes beginning to close.
“Wake up!” Dario yells in my ear.
“Ah, motherfucker,” I groan. “Why did God give me such assholes for brothers?”
“To keep you humble, of course,” Ciro replies. “Help,stronzo. Lift those legs!”
“Take me back to bed,” I sigh. “Don’t be obnoxious. It’s too late to go see Rosa.”
“No can do. She, Verona, and Pablo threatened to take turns zapping us with our collars if we didn’t take you to them,” he says.