Page 56 of John + Siena: The Complete Duet

SEVEN

“So hey, do you want to talk to me today, or what?” John asked, leaning in the entryway to the living room of his parents’ home.

Lucia didn’t even look away from the flickering TV. “No.”

Her tone came out flat, dry, and dead.

Ouch.

“I tried to call you while you were in California.” John cleared his throat, and then added, “Every couple of weeks, actually.”

“Maybe my phone doesn’t work there.”

“I think it does, Lucia.”

“Then maybe that’s a sign, John.”

Damn.

She was not going to make this easy on him. His kid sister was pissed off at him, and maybe rightfully so. He had been the one to track her down months ago, and bring her home kicking and screaming the whole way.

Business picked up a lot after that, and John was given more responsibility. His boss, and uncle, seemed to think he could handle it, considering everything. Between his therapy once a week, sometimes more, the parole officer he had to keep up with, the public service hours he did every week, and business … John had no time to do anything.

He could barely breathe.

Lucia was home again, though, so he was trying to make time for her. He wanted to fix this rift he made months ago, but she wasn’t having it.

Not at all.

“You’ve been back from California for a couple of weeks, kiddo. I thought—”

Her gaze turned on him—hateful and rage-filled in a blink. Eighteen, young-dumb, and angry. Those were the things he found in his youngest sister’s eyes when she stared at him. It was not something John was used to with Lucia.

She was beautiful like their mother, sure.

She was also dark, vicious, and stubborn like their father.

“Don’t ever fucking call me that again, John,” Lucia hissed.

His spine stiffened. “What—kiddo? I’ve always called you that.”

“Not anymore.”

Her words stabbed at his guilt, and made it worse. Maybe he deserved it, after what he did.

“How’s California?” he tried asking. “You’ve been there for a couple of months now.”

Still, she ignored him. Her hazel eyes, ones so like his own, were hard and cold.

Lucia was the spitfire of their family. Young blood, and still learning the ropes of this thing they called life. She should have been out there having fun, but in a way, John had taken all that away from her when he dragged her home.

“You could at least talk to me, Lucy.”

He used the nickname she hated just to get a rise out of her. She disliked Lucy even more than kiddo. Her response shocked him further.

“California is hot,” she said.

“Yeah, I bet,” he murmured.