Page 62 of Thin Lives

Ray wouldn’t meet Calisto’s gaze.

He didn’t really need him to.

Calisto let Ray go, and with a single shove, knocked the man to the ground. Without a word, Calisto turned on his heel and made a beeline for his SUV parked at the other end of the lot. He didn’t need to look back to know that Ray wasn’t following behind him.

However, when he went to get into his own car, a hand wrapped around his driver’s door and stopped him. Calisto found a silent, curious Wolf waiting.

“What?” Calisto asked the Capo. “Do you have something you want to fucking add to this shitty day?”

Wolf shrugged. “Chill out, huh?”

Easy for him to say.

It wasn’t his life being turned upside down every time he turned around.

Calisto scoffed. “Remove your hand before I do it for you.”

Wolf didn’t question the order, simply dropped his hand. He didn’t step away from the SUV, though.

“What now?” Calisto growled, more irritated than ever.

“You’ve got people on your side, boss,” Wolf said. “Just like you did then.”

“Oh, do I? Because apparently then, it did me no good. I still ended up with a car full of bullet holes and a memory with just as much empty space. Maybe I should thank my men for being on my side then.”

Wolf cringed. “The meeting was good, boss. With the Irish boss—Connor—it went good. Nothing should have happened.”

Calisto’s brow furrowed. “You can’t know that. I didn’t take anyone in.”

“Like I said, you’ve got people on your side. Even when you don’t know it. Maybe you should stop focusing on the people who aren’t until you get some other shit figured out.”

“Like what?”

Wolf stepped away from the car, waving his arms wide. “I don’t know. That’s what you need to figure out.”

Calisto cursed.

Emma

Emma picked at the waffle on her plate, knowing she had to eat it whether she was hungry or not. Just because her mind didn’t feel like she needed food, didn’t mean that her body could go without some kind of sustenance. Maybe, if it was just her, she would be able to push the meal away without concern.

But it wasn’t.

She had to eat for her baby.

It didn’t matter that the brightly colored berries on top of the whip cream held very little appeal, and the small dish of maple syrup waiting to be used didn’t strike a chord with her sweet tooth. It wouldn’t make a difference that each bite would only make her jaw ache and her gag reflex act up.

She wasn’t hungry because her stress level was high.

She couldn’t sleep.

She worried, constantly.

But … her baby.

So, when the cook walked past the kitchen table and tapped a single finger beside Emma’s plate, she picked up the fork and cut a small triangle off the side of the waffle. Stuffing the bite in her mouth, Emma wished she could enjoy the sweetness of the blueberry waffles, but instead, she found herself focusing on chewing and swallowing just to get the job of eating done.

Sherry—the Donati family’s cook—offered her a knowing, but sad, smile. “You need to eat, Emma.”