The Enforcer (Untamed Hearts Book 3)(64)

“You can if you want.” Nova choked on the words, but he said them. “I’m not gonna tell you not to.”

Tino nodded, knowing how hard it was for Nova to give him that. He wasn’t sure which of them had it worse, Nova who carried so much guilt, or Tino who was fighting down so much anger.

“Ti voglio bene,” he whispered, more to remind himself than Nova.

Nova reached over and squeezed his shoulder, like he wanted to make sure Tino was still there. “I love you too.”

Then the song was over, and the lawyer showed up. So they got in his Mercedes and drove to the jail.

“Leave your hat,” Nova said from the front seat where he sat discussing things with the guy in the suit who obviously worked for the don and was part of the bonus Nova got for being a Cosa Nostra trained dog. “You can’t bring it in.”

Tino didn’t want to leave his hat. It sort of felt like his good-luck charm. He took it off and sniffed at the brim, because it still had the scent of Brianna’s shampoo. Or maybe he was just imagining it, but either way it made him feel better.

“Did you just sniff your hat?” Nova asked in Italian.

Tino looked at the hat in his hand, and then he smelled it again. “Why can’t I bring it?”

“’Cause you can’t. They pat you down and use a metal detector. You can’t bring anything you could hide something in,” he went on in Italian and then added in English, “It’s a friggin’ jail.”

Tino put his hat over his face and dropped his head back against the seat. He took another deep breath, trying to pretend he was back at the studio in Bed-Stuy.

“You don’t have to come in,” Nova whispered in Italian once more. “You can wait in the car, piccolo.”

“I’m not a baby,” Tino decided for the first time in his life. His mother used to call him the baby, and it was a habit Romeo and Nova picked up. They got better about it as he got older, but sometimes they reverted back to when Tino was five and his name in the house had just been piccolo. “Don’t call me that anymore.”

It reminded him of his ma.

He didn’t want to think about his ma.

Nova fell back against his seat and looked out his window the same way Tino had in the other car. He was quiet for a long time as the lawyer sat next to them, uncomfortable because he hadn’t been able to understand the conversation.

At least Tino assumed he couldn’t understand him.

With a name like Abram Levi, Tino was pretty f*cking certain he wasn’t Italian even if he did work for Don Moretti.

“Are we good?” Abram asked Nova.

“Yeah, we’re good.” Nova opened the door without looking at Tino and handed his folders to the lawyer. “Are you coming, Valentino?”

Nova choked on his name a little, even though he said it all the time. It was like he could feel the death of who Tino was before.

Tino tossed his hat on the seat and opened the back door. “I’m ready.”

So, he sat through this long drive, and Nova’s life crisis at fourteen, only to find out he wasn’t allowed to hug Romeo.

Of course he wasn’t.

He just got to sit between Nova and the Jewish lawyer and stare at his older brother across the table. Tino could see a bruise on Romeo’s thick biceps, most of it hiding underneath the sleeve from his orange uniform, but all other signs of the attack Tino watched were hidden.

Romeo didn’t even flinch when he sat down.

He looked to all the world like the biggest, most muscular guy in that jail.

But Tino knew him better. Romeo had circles under his eyes like he wasn’t sleeping, and his hair was getting a little long, leaving it messy in a way Tino had never seen on his brother.

“You look thinner, piccolo.” Romeo reached out, like he wanted to caress Tino’s hair, and then pulled his hand back when one of the guards said something. “You’re pale. Are you sick?”

Nova reached past Tino and took his files back from the lawyer, like he needed to touch them. To be in control somehow, but he didn’t say anything.

Tino looked to Nova and then gave Romeo a smile. “I’m pale? Look in the mirror lately?”

“No.” Romeo shook his head and didn’t take the bait on Tino’s joke. “I try not to look in mirrors these days.”

“Well, you look like merda.” Tino stared at him pointedly. “You’d think you’ve been in jail or something.”

“I’ve missed you, Valentino.” Romeo laughed even though it was obvious he didn’t want to, and then just as quickly he sobered and looked down, his light eyes swimming with tears. “Are you okay? Why are you so thin? Aren’t you eating?”

“No, I’m not eating,” Tino responded. “Prison food has got to be an improvement over Casanova’s cooking.”

“He can cook,” Romeo said in disbelief. “Can’t he?” He looked at Nova. “You’ve watched me cook. Can’t you just remember and imitate it?”

“Asshole cannot cook,” Tino said slowly in Italian before Nova could answer. “I’m serious. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with him, but he can’t do it. He burned pasta. In a pot of water. He burned it.”

“How did you burn it in water?”

“I don’t know.” Nova shrugged. “I think it was the pot. It was cheap and—”