Vendetta

“Non lo so,” he said quietly, and across from him, his brother, who had been concentrating on his menu, released a low chuckle. I was struck by how effortlessly he moved between both languages, and slightly curious about whatever amusement was passing between them.

 

“That’s a loaded question,” Shadow Boy continued after a beat, as if sensing my annoyance. He furrowed his brows and leaned across the table. “I am sorry about the whole thing, Sophie. I just wanted to ask you something. But then you stopped running so abruptly and …” He trailed off, doing his best to look ashamed of himself.

 

“There was a cat, and I didn’t want to trample it.”

 

“Ah, I see.”

 

“But then you went ahead and tried to trample me, so I’m not sure it was worth it.”

 

“I told you,” he said conspiratorially, “I wanted to ask you something.”

 

“Do you always ask your questions so aggressively? I’m not sure you’d make an effective interrogator.”

 

“Perhaps you’re right,” he conceded with a small smile. “But I’m too impatient for that line of work anyway.”

 

I zeroed in on the golden flecks in his dark eyes, trying not to lose my train of thought. There was just something about them … “So what’s the question?”

 

“Well,” he said. “At first I wanted to know why you were spying on my house. And then I started to wonder why you suddenly decided not to stick around when I noticed you?”

 

He wasn’t smiling anymore; he was studying me and I understood what he meant — he knew I had been running away and he knew I was scared of him. But now, looking at him, I couldn’t remember why I had felt that way.

 

“Were you running away from me?”

 

I shook my head too hard, making my cheeks jiggle. “Nope, definitely not.”

 

“Oh, really?” he pressed, smiling broadly this time. It rearranged his face beautifully, raising his brows and softening his jaw.

 

“I prefer to think of it as casual hobbling.”

 

He pulled back from me and, slowly, I became aware of the rest of the world again. “I’d call it frantic sprinting.”

 

“Semantics.”

 

“I’m sorry if I hurt you,” he said. “I’m Nic, by the way, and this is my brother, Luca.”

 

Even though I was standing between the brothers, I had barely registered Luca. He had stopped studying his menu and was resting his interlocking fingers on top of it. I offered him a smile. “Welcome to Gracewell’s.”

 

“That was boring for me,” Luca replied. His voice was sharp with impatience, and scratchy, too, as though he had a sore throat. “But it’s nice to know you’re planning on being somewhat professional this evening, Sophie.”

 

I blanched. How rude was this guy?

 

He gestured back and forth with his index finger, first at Nic, and then at me, like our conversation was his business, too. “Are you ready to focus now, Nicoli?”

 

Nicoli. His full name suited him. It was beautiful.

 

Nic shifted in his seat so that he was closer to me, and the two of us were side by side, facing his brother. “Chill out, Luca.”

 

Luca’s eyebrows climbed. “My brother, l’ipocrita.”

 

Nic swatted his hand in Luca’s direction. “Stai zitto!”

 

“Have you worked here long, Sophie?” Luca cut to me again. He dragged a hand through his hair, settling the unruly black strands away from his face and behind his ears. I found myself entranced by his bright blue eyes, now that I could really see them. They were searing, and seemed to shine unnaturally from his tanned face. Is he the boy from the window? I wondered. No, he was too hard, too unyielding. It wasn’t him. I was almost sure of it.

 

“Well?” he pressed.

 

“Luca,” Nic rumbled. “Can you not do this — ”

 

“Let her answer.”

 

“No, I haven’t worked here for long,” I replied quickly, hoping it would ease whatever tension was mounting between them. Maybe they’d just had an argument before I turned up. Or maybe Luca didn’t get out much and this was his idea of socializing. “It’s just a stupid summer job.”

 

I felt guilty lying about the diner’s role in my life and my future, but suddenly I couldn’t stand the thought of them thinking I was as ordinary as I was; that my life was bound to a place that hadn’t been redecorated in nearly twenty years, a place owned by an incarcerated man, a place where nothing exciting ever happened to anyone.

 

Nic pulled his arms from the table and folded them. He kept his narrowed gaze on Luca, like he was almost daring him to do something.

 

“Do you like it?” Luca appeared unaffected by the death stare.

 

I shrugged. “As much as anyone can, I guess.”

 

“And what about your coworkers? Do you like them?”

 

“Smettila!” Nic hissed, his accent flipping effortlessly again.

 

“Does it matter if I like them?”

 

“You tell me,” said Luca.

 

“Yes, they’re nice, mostly,” I returned evenly. “Why? Are you doing a police survey or something?”

 

For the first time since our rocky introduction, Luca smiled at me, revealing sharp teeth and pronounced cheekbones.

 

“Sophie,” Nic murmured. “Don’t worry about my brother. As you can see, he’s completely socially inept.”

 

The softness in his voice settled me, and I let myself be charmed by him, if only for a second, before leaving them with their menus.

 

“Look at those fine specimens!” whooped Ursula when I returned to the counter. “So these boys are the new Priestlys?”

 

I nodded subtly. Across the way, Nic and Luca were enthralled in another conversation. They were in their own beautiful little world again. And Ursula and I were on a planet beside that world, stalking them unashamedly.

 

“Is your shadow crush the black-haired one?” she teased.

 

“No, the other one.”

 

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