Page 148 of John + Siena: The Complete Duet

“Don’t play fucking games with me, Dad.”

Lucian took a step toward his son. “John, are you all right?”

John bristled at the question. “Is that all any of you ever think about with me? If I’m okay, if I can handle myself, if my shit is taken care of? I am fucking fine, Dad.”

The level of John’s tone drew attention. His uncles looked his way, and some of the guests. He saw his mother break away from his aunts, and come their way. John had no interest in talking with her, either.

“I only came here to make one fucking thing clear,” John said.

Lucian held a hand up high when Dante stepped closer, as though he were going to step in on the conversation. It kept the Marcello boss from coming any nearer to them. Although, it wasn’t like John gave a fuck either way.

“And what’s that, son?” Lucian asked.

John smirked. “Remember, it’s not my loyalty in this family that ever needs to be in question.”

With that peace said, John turned on his heel and headed back into the crowd. People parted, letting him pass through. Their murmurs reached his ears, but he didn’t really hear what they were saying.

His point had been made.

People would talk.

John was not to be fucked with.

Not by his family.

Not by anyone.

The grogginess in John’s mind was so heavy that he struggled to stay awake as he peeled open his eyes. He wondered how long he had been asleep while he stretched his arms high above his head. He rubbed his palms against his face. The thickness of his facial stubble said it had been far too long since he had a shave.

He stared up at the familiar ceiling, but confusion filled his mind. He knew instantly where he was. It was as comforting as it was concerning.

He struggled to remember the events of the night before. A party for his family. He went, and made a scene. On his way out, he tossed back a couple of drinks. The frantic pace of his mind grew and sped up until he could barely take anything in at all.

Still, he pushed through the clashing and crashing thoughts to dig for more information as to how he got here. He left the Marcello mansion, and that was the last thing John could remember.

He struggled to bring back more memories. His chest burned like he had been drinking hard liquor all night long. The taste in his mouth said he likely had been doing exactly that. A deep pounding headache in his temples only confirmed it further.

But even drunk, or hungover, John wasn’t one to lose his memories. He was not one to forget.

Yet, the space in his head was only a giant black hole filled with nothing, and giving him nothing when he tried to pull something from it.

“John?”

Her soft voice in the bed comforted him, and also made him stiffen. He looked over in the bed to see her staring at him with soft, familiar blue eyes.

“Siena,” he murmured.

Her hand reached out. A tentative touch stroked his cheek, and woke him up further.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

“The same way I did yesterday.”

Out of control.

Bulletproof.

Confused.