Page 47 of The Saint

Because I could see it in her eyes. My heart wasn’t mine anymore. It was hers. I was at her mercy.

Hopefully, she wouldn’t break me again.

12

JAEL

The Giordano house had the kind of grandeur I’d grown up with. Not far from my own childhood home, the large stone building had always felt like warmth and happiness to me. I never noticed as different the simple extravagance of the rose garden planted along one side of the yard, or the intricate pattern stamped into the pavement of the driveway. It was simply something that had always been there, in my life like my closest friend.

My own family home was similar, though my mother was less inclined to tend to the flowers and bushes as she was to hire a pricey gardener to take care of it for her. We had the spacious, plush rooms and the expensive fixtures. We had the large yard with the pool and a court where my brothers and I could play basketball, just like the Giordanos. We had the theater and the game room in the basement, and the fancy dining room where D’Angelo’s lieutenants and soldiers could meet. We had the same wrought-iron fence that looked stately yet provided a small level of security for the home.

I pushed open the Giordano’s gate and trudged up the sidewalk to knock on the front door. There was a time when I wouldn’t have thought twice about running to the house and barging in. With Rolly by my side, this place had always felt like an extension of my home.

But Rolly wasn’t here this time. For the first time in a week, we’d peeled ourselves away from each other and gone our separate ways.

It felt strange to miss him, having been without him for little more than a couple hours. We’d spent every minute of our time together the past week. Jogging through Central Park. Taking his boat out for a spin. Speeding around on his old motorbikes. Making up for the years we were apart, learning to read each other’s bodies in ways we never could have imagined as teens.

It was those thoughts on my mind when the door was pulled open, and I blinked away visions of Rolly’s naked body to find his mother standing there. My face flamed in the cool morning air, and I forced a shaky smile to my lips.

As if that alone could hide my embarrassment.

“Jael, sweetheart, I’m so glad you came.” If Carmen noticed redness in my cheeks, she didn’t attribute it to my dirty thoughts. She only snagged my hand and pulled me over the threshold, then wrapped me up in her warm embrace. When she stepped back, she cupped my cheek like she used to when I was a child. “It’s so good to see you again.”

I swallowed down the tightness in my throat. “It’s good to see you too.”

“Would you like some tea?” She didn’t wait for a response; she just turned and walked toward the kitchen as if expecting me to follow. I followed along, my gaze dancing over every detail of their home, searching for the things that were different and those that had stayed the same.

Same hardwood floors. New rug in the living room. Lorenzo’s favorite recliner paired with a new couch. The kitchen itself had been made over. The tile floors were replaced, the new tiles matching the new backsplash. The kitchen cupboards had been updated, the door that Rolly had put the wheel of his rollerblade through was finally replaced.

Carmen gestured toward the breakfast bar as she rushed toward the stove to take care of the whistling teapot. “Please, make yourself at home.”

As if I weren’t there already.

I took my seat as Carmen poured tea into cups already set out near the stove. She lifted them, turned toward me, and the small smile on her lips dropped.

“You still drink tea, don’t you? I’ve got coffee if you’d rather have that.”

“Tea would be wonderful,” I told her, and it brought a wide smile back to her lips.

“I wasn’t sure… I didn’t even think…” Carmen placed my cup in front of me and slid up onto her seat. “You used to drink tea with us all the time, but since you joined Paulo’s crew…”

Something about her words, the flustered way she spoke, brought out a small chuckle. “It’s okay, Mrs. Giordano—”

“Please, call me Carmen.” Her hand covered mine.

“It’s okay,” I repeated. “I still drink tea. I haven’t really had it for years.”

“They didn’t stock it out on the farm?”

I shook my head and swallowed the hot liquid in my mouth. “It was easier to drink coffee. There weren’t exactly any stores around that carried the loose-leaf varieties you taught me to love.”

Carmen pressed her lips together, but even that did little to hide the smile trying to break free. A little hum sounded in her throat.

“What?”

“You never struck me as the kind of girl who’d back down on something like this.”

My finger traced over the gold line at the rim of my cup. I dragged my eyes up to hers. “Sometimes you have to pick your battles.”