Leveled: A Novella (Saints of Denver #0.5)(82)

I rushed across the room into the en suite and had the quickest shower of my life. I didn’t bother with makeup, just brushed out my wet hair, threw on a pair of blue jeans and a loose white sweater, and slipped on a pair of flip-flops before making my way downstairs.

Lev stood there in his pajama pants, his arms crossed over his chest, glaring at Alessio in complete silence. The moment he heard my footsteps, he spoke to my brother who stood a few feet away, his hands behind his back. “You’ve got five minutes. Make the time you have worth it, because you’ll never get another chance.”

He kissed my head as I passed him, and I watched him walk into the kitchen. I stopped a long way from my brother. He was dressed in a pair of brown khakis, a white tee, and a black jacket. He also looked extremely nervous.

“Hello,” I mumbled.

He raised a hand in greeting and sighed as he spoke, “Hey.” He stepped forward and held out his other hand. He did this so quickly that I stepped back with a flinch. Alessio’s face twisted as he held out the bunch of pink tulips, his hand falling slightly. “Shit. I’m not gonna hurt you, Mina.”

I hugged myself, my voice flat. “You already have.”

His hands found his hips, the bunch of tulips hanging upside down. He dipped his chin, nodding to the ground. “Yeah,” he admitted. When he lifted his head, he spoke sincerely, “I shouldn’t have said what I said. I thought about some of the things I told you later on, and I…” His lips thinned. “I shouldn’t have said those things. It wasn’t your fault he was a mean bastard, and I mean it when I say I’m glad I took all that shit from Enzo so you never had to. So,”—he shrugged awkwardly and spoke quietly—“sorry.”

He seemed genuinely sorry—or at least he acted it.

“Okay,” I muttered under my breath.

I didn’t know what else to say, so I didn’t say anything.

Alessio, looking more and more uncomfortable by the second, swallowed hard. He moved to place the bunch of tulips on the hall table by the door and stepped back. “Okay, well, that’s all I wanted to say, so I guess I’ll see you around.” He thought about that then sighed, “Or not.”

He was being civil, and something told me that was a big deal for Alessio Scarfo.

Alessio moved to leave when I called out, “Would you like some coffee?”

He stilled, spun back around, and then reached up to rub the back of his neck. He nodded uneasily. “Sure. Coffee would be great.”

We took our coffee in the living room where we could speak alone, but where I wouldn’t have to be far from Lev. I wasn’t sure how this would end. It seemed Alessio could be unpredictable when provoked.

I kept my first question simple. “How old are you?”

“I’ll be thirty this year,” he told me as he held his coffee mug tighter than he should have. “How about you?”

“I’m twenty-four.”

A long silence followed.

“And you were homeless,” he added quietly.

“Yeah.” I nodded slowly. “I don’t really like to talk about it.”

“Sure. Okay,” he said. “And you’re working at Bleeding Hearts?”

“Yeah. I’m bartending.”

“How are you liking it?” he asked politely.

I smiled down into my mug. “I like it just fine.”

Oh, God, this conversation was so freaking painful.

It was like eating chalk. Cheap and tasteless.

I sighed, running a hand through my damp hair. “You don’t have to be so polite, you know? You can ask me real questions. I promise I won’t get freaked out.”

He nodded, but his hesitation was clear. “Clara…” He cleared his throat. “She was nice, huh?”

“She was,” I said genuinely.

He bit the inside of his lip. Just like I did when I was nervous. And the act made me smile. “You got any photos of her?”

“No,” I told him with deep regret. “I left my photo album with my foster parents when I ran away. I was seventeen and stupid. I didn’t even think.” I huffed out a long breath. “I’d do anything to get it back.”

He must have really wanted to see that album, because the next thing he said was, “I’m good at finding people. If you give me their names and whatever other info you can, I’ll see what I can do.”

I smiled at him then, and I grinned wide. “Lev’s already looking for them.”

Alessio shrugged. “Can’t hurt to have two people looking.” His lip twitched. “Many hands make light work, you know?”

The conversation was getting easier. My heart warmed.

But my smile fell. “You’ve never seen a picture of Mom?”

“Yeah, I have, but those were at the club. Laredo has a stack of ‘em. She was all dolled up for the stage. I guess I wanted to see how she looked in real life, you know?” His lip twitched and he caught my eye. “Those photos at the club…I’ve seen our mother’s tits.”

A bark of laughter came out of me so hard that I had to cover my mouth. “Oh, man. Ewww.”

His body shook with silent laughter and the scars around his mouth stretched. “Yeah, not cool.” His smile stretched as far as it could and he winced, reaching up to rub the thickest scar at his lip.