20. Matchmaker

TWENTY

MATCHMAKER

GENEVIEVE

I try not to remember the first time I met Savannah because, well, that would involve reliving the moment I burst into Damien’s bedroom without knocking, expecting to find him organizing the million suits he has in his closets but actually getting a front row seat to him getting his knob polished.

Like, I knew he had sex. As much as he tried to hide it from me in some ‘noble’ sense of protecting my innocence, my older brother is an objectively handsome man with a shit ton of money and power. I never bothered him with it, but all through high school, then later when I was part of Madame Durand’s company, so many of the girls tried to get close to me because they had eyes on the prize: becoming Mrs. Libellula.

Is it any wonder that I stuck close to Christopher, who while definitely attracted to men, never made a move on Damien? That alone made him a keeper, plus how loyal he was to me at the same time as he was there to temper some of my more irrepressible urges. I would’ve gotten into so much more trouble as a kid if it wasn’t for Christopher, and even as adults, he always looked out for me.

Did I suspect Damien put him up to it? Duh. I’m not a moron. From the moment Christopher joined the Family as Damien’s personal assistant, I knew that keeping tabs on me would be one of his duties.

But I also knew that, unless I was in danger, I could trust him. For years, Christopher allowed me to have at least some semblance of a normal life, and I’m so grateful for him. I’m even more grateful when Savannah told me that Christopher was the one who alerted both her and Damien to the fact that I was missing.

He knew I’d gone to see Cross the day we were taken. It was inevitable that he’d think that Cross had something to do with my disappearance, especially when he turned up gone, too. That’s why it took a week before their focus shifting on blaming him to thinking that maybe we were taken together.

Once Cross came up gone, Devil got involved. If there’s one semi-decent thing that came out of this whole disaster, it’s that the truce between the Sinners Syndicate and the Libellula family has never been more rock-solid. If Winter wanted to further his twin’s cause of taking over Springfield, he royally screwed up there. Banding together to bring me and Cross home safe made the two mafias unbeatable.

Devil had his tech guru, Tanner, figuring out where we’d been hidden. I’m still hazy on the details how exactly, but when I asked Savannah, she told me that it’s better not to ask about his skills and just be grateful he uses them for us instead of against us. Luca went in first because, as part of the criminal scene in Hamilton before he fled for Springfield, he had an in. I still think Winter knew he was letting in a spy, but since that fuckers gone ghost since we left his facility, there’s no way to know about that, either.

With Luca in place to check out the layout of the compound where we were kept, Savannah was selected to play the part of Falco’s girlfriend. I kinda feel bad for Dame when it came to that. He had to choose between his new wife and his beloved kid sister, and even Savannah knew that he would pick me.

She says it plainly, then slips something about the first night we met: how, in the middle of her going down on Damien, and after I burst into the room before high-tailing it back out again, she made a comment about thinking that I was his wife. Besides that being super gross to even think about, Dame doesn’t do bigamy. But remember: Savannah and Damien got married after Savannah stabbed him. Their marriage was a power play that actually ended up working out so far, but he told her that she’d be a victim of one of his enforcers if she so much as laid a finger on a hair of my head.

Instead, the two of us become fast buddied, bonding over her kitty, and now Savannah is both one of his enforcers and the woman who helped rescue me and Cross from Winter.

She’s more than that, too. I can forgive her her taste in men—because if Cross had shown himself to be like Damien in the beginning, I would’ve never fallen for him—because of how she’s basically replaced Christopher as my partner in crime these days.

I still haven’t talked to him. I know he’s on thin ice with the Family because, after confessing that I was suddenly missing, he had to tell Damien all about how I’ve been sneaking out for years. I’m pretty sure the only reason he still has his neck in one piece is because he kept me safe every time I did. That, plus I’d be really pissed off if Damien slit my best friend’s throat.

I don’t blame Christopher. It’s more that I’m ashamed that my reckless actions got him in trouble. So when he reached out right after our rescue and told me he understands that I need space and he’ll give it to me, I jumped at the chance to put some distance between us.

Damien? He can fuck off for all I care. I might’ve forgiven him if he hadn’t chopped down my tree in a fit of brotherly entitlement. Like, I get it. He wants me to stay in the manor. I guess I should be grateful that I put my foot down and refused him to chip me with a tracker and he let me, but with Cross acting like I don’t exist, it’s not like I wouldn’t have agreed to not sneak out again until this whole thing with Winter is done.

No one can find him. No one knows what he’s planning, or if he finally got it through his thick skull that Springfield will never be Snowflake turf. He’s vanished, and when weeks pass, turning to more than a month that I’m a basic prisoner in my room, I start to get the old familiar itch to go out into the world again. I want freedom?—

Ah, who am I kidding? I want Cross .

He couldn’t have made it more clear that he doesn’t want me. Rejection fucking sucks, but I’m a big girl. I should just be happy to have experienced so many firsts with him.

My first love.

My first fuck.

My first kill .

And my first heartbreak.

Savannah doesn’t leave the manor, either. Not really. When she first came to stay—and I nearly had a fit when I thought Damien had a secret girlfriend he up and married without telling me about her—she was as much a prisoner as I am now. Once she proved her love and loyalty to my brother, she can leave as she pleases, but Savannah prefers to stay in at the manor unless she’s going out as one of Dame’s enforcers.

I’ve discovered that she’s a homebody who enjoys binging movies and TV shows in our big home theater room, curled up next to Orion, while eating popcorn and talking to me about what we both think will happen next.

I haven’t watched television since I came home. The theater room is on the second floor of the manor—Damien’s turf—and I’m still avoiding him. He thinks I’ll get over his heavy-handed treatment of me eventually.

Don’t hold your breath, Dame. I know how to hold a grudge when it counts.

As though he can sense I need his company, Orion has been my shadow. If he’s not with Savannah, he’s with me, and though he’s not quite the man I want to sleep next to, Orion has been my buddy in bed for weeks now.

He’s there now, curled up at the end of my bed, while I fluff my hair, checking it out in my mirror as Savannah nods in approval.

“It looks good, Gen. I really thought that pink would suit you.”

“It’s really nice,” I agree.

When Savannah went to the drug store to grab another box of dye, going from that auburn color back to her deeper brunette shade, I impulsively asked her to get me some, too. I wanted color, I wanted pizazz, and though I drew the line at coloring my whole head, she helped me paint in a few streaks in the front before dipping the ends of my blonde hair in the pink dye.

It was equal parts to give me something to do, to shake up the sameness of every fucking day, as well as knowing that Damien would purse his lips in disapproval if he saw what we’d done.

Oh, well.

That’s not all she bought for me at the drug store, either. When I couldn’t ignore the reality any longer, I finally acquiesced and allowed her to pick up a pregnancy test. I’d hope that sleeping with Cross twice without any protection would’ve leave a bun in my over to take care of, and the test boasts a ninety-nine perfect accuracy.

I really hope it means it because I’d never been so relieved to have a test with a negative result.

I don’t want kids. Not anytime soon. Maybe not even ever. I’m only twenty-five, and I planned on dancing professionally ‘til I was at least thirty. If I kept myself in shape, there was no reason I couldn’t. I might not ever dance on a big stage again, but there are more than enough local companies where I could dance for a few more years.

I haven’t watched television. I haven’t danced, either.

Which is why I can’t help the pang in my chest as Savannah says, “And it’s the wash-out stuff, too. Give it a couple of weeks and it’ll be gone. The next time you’re preparing for a performance, you won’t have to worry about having pink hair.”

Only one problem: I’m not sure there’ll be another performance.

What happened in Hamilton… it broke me. Cross walking away with no reason, no remorse, and no closure?

I don’t know if I’ll ever heal.

But God bless Savannah, I guess, who is definitely Damien’s mouthpiece these days. My brother is the one who put me through dance lessons, ramping them up when I told him I was serious about it at ten. He’s gone to every performance, helped bandage every injury, and if there’s anyone who knows how much dance means to me, it’s my brother.

My studio stays dark. I don’t put music on.

He’s gotta be shitting himself in worry.

Closure, I think again. One way or another, I need closure…

“Did you see that Riverside plans on doing The Nutcracker for November?” Savannah asks as I turn away from the mirror, moving to sit on the edge of my bed.

I give Orion a stroke. The big orange-and-white cat quirks open one big green eye, starts to rumble like a motorcycle engine, and goes right back to sleep. “They do every year.”

I should know. When I was nineteen, I got the part of Clara. They usually get a younger girl to play her since the character is around twelve or so, but I was small enough that it worked. They wanted our Clara on pointe so the casting team wanted someone with more impressive skills, and it was one of my first big credits after I left Madame Durand’s studio.

But I’ve always wanted to dance as the Sugar Plum Fairy. It never fell into place for me, and depending on how my July audition went, I was hoping that this would be my year for The Nutcracker .

Not anymore. I haven’t done so much as a grand jete since I came home again. I just… I can’t do it. I thought my love of dance was strong enough to get me through anything, but as it turns out, loving another person—and having them reject you like you’re nothing—is enough to steal my former passion and joy.

So when Savannah starts mentioning the upcoming schedule for auditions at the end of the month, I cut her off. “Any update on Winter?”

Savannah pauses for a moment. She runs her gaze over me, and I see the moment she realizes that I’m not ready to talk about ballet just yet. Of course I’m still fixated on Winter and my captivity. She has to know that I can’t stop thinking about Cross, either, but it’s much safer to talk about the bastard who put all of this into motion.

Damien would find a way to change the subject. That’s why I like Savannah because she takes a look at me, gauges what she thinks I can handle, and says, “No update yet. Once he realized I wasn’t Camille, he withdrew his people from Falco’s territory since he didn’t have anything to use about him. He’s gotta know it would be a death wish to come after Springfield. But Tanner thinks he might be targeting Harmony Heights.”

“What’s Harmony Heights?” I ask.

I can’t help myself. Not only do I want to be involved when it comes to taking out Winter, but I’ve always been fascinated by the various local mafias and criminal organizations. You think that would’ve changed after everything I’ve been through, but not quite.

Only I’ve never heard of Harmony Heights before.

“It’s this small hamlet in the southern part of the state,” Savannah explains.

“Weird name,” I note.

“Weird town,” agrees Savannah. “You think Springfield’s bad? This place is run by criminals, but that’s better than that one.”

“I don’t get what you mean.”

“They’ve got this not-so-secret society who runs the show there. Everything from the businesses in town to who gets to marry who, this order is in charge. They’ve got money, too, and a lot of pull. I guess, from what Damien told me, Winter thought he could take over that order by taking one of the member’s daughters. Haven something. I forget. It didn’t end well for that part of his operation.”

Haven . “I don’t know if it ended well for her, either,” I mutter.

Savannah cocks her head, curious.

“Remember? How there was another girl being held in that place with us? Her name was Haven. One of the guards made fun of the fact that he sexually assaulted her so bad, she went mute.”

My pretty sister-in-law’s face turns murderous, and in that moment, I remember just how formidable of an enforcer she’s become. “What a monster! Is that the one who lost part of his cock? ‘Cause to do that… I really hope they couldn’t reattach that fucker.”

“Me, too. I never even knew it was possible to do that, but when Cross did?—”

I stop short.

Savannah goes still.

Cross .

He’s on my mind constantly. I haven’t been able to forget him one bit. But his name… since the moment Damien told me that Cross told me it was better this way before blocking me everywhere… I haven’t actually said his name.

Until now.

She hesitates, then says, “Give him time, Gen. You both went through something really traumatic. You’re healing. Maybe he is, too. And when he realizes that he needs you as much as you need him?—”

I know she’s only trying to help. But that? That’s not helping.

“He doesn’t want anything to do with me ever again,” I blurt out. Blurt out… no. I explode . The words I’ve kept bottled up inside of my come out with such heat, I scare the shit out of poor Orion. He yelps, jumping off the bed as I throw open my arms. “Friends, Savannah. He promised me we could be friends. And then when I needed a friend the most, he disappeared .”

“Gen—”

I’m not done. “I thought he cared about me. I thought there was something there. Going through that together… shouldn’t that have made us stronger? But he threw me away like trash, Savannah! All that time we spent together… before… after… and he walked away without a fucking backward glance!”

Her expression goes soft. I know she’s going to calm me, but maybe I don’t want to be calmed.

Maybe this was the release I’ve been waiting for?—

Savannah turns her head, glancing at my window. “Are you so sure about that?”

The quiet yet firm way she says that takes all the wind out of my sail.

Why is she staring out my window?

“Savannah?”

She moves next to it, gesturing for me to join her. Not sure why, but suddenly very curious, I do—and she points.

“You can’t see him from here, can you?”

“What are you talking about?”

Savannah gestures out of the window with a little more oomph, toward a blind spot behind the back of the house. “There. You can’t tell from this spot, so if he’s been parking his bike right over there, you’d never know.”

I still don’t get it. “Why would he be out there?”

“That’s something you’d have to ask him. But I promise you, I saw him. I’m not the first one, either. Vin ran him off a couple of times recently. Frankie came out, shaking one of his wife’s wooden spoons. He always leaves, but he always comes back.”

He always comes back …

“But why ?”

“I don’t know, Genny. But don’t you think it’s time you stop hiding out in your room and find out?”

She’s not wrong. That’s exactly what I’ve been doing. “He blocked me. I can’t get through to him,” I argue.

“Over the phone, yeah,” she agrees. “But what about in person?”

She isn’t suggesting what I think she’s suggesting… is she?

I was too proud to go to his studio to beg, though the thought did cross my mind once or twice. But that’s not the only place where I can find Cross, is it?

I smile, and Savannah lays her hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll take care of your brother.”

And I’ll take care of Cross.

“Thank you, Savannah.”

She shrugs. “Hey. You and Cross saved my cat. Least I can do is help play matchmaker.”

I’ve been avoiding Christopher for weeks. He wanted to give me space. And yet, when I pick up my phone and send him the first text since we went radio silence, it isn’t ten seconds before he replies.

Hey. It’s been a while, but you busy tonight?

Not at all. Your brother’s had me doing paperwork for ages. I’d love an excuse to forget it for a couple of hours.

Why? You need to get some fresh air?

That’s how I used to phrase it. When my bedroom got too stifling, and I thought that I’d scream if I spent another minute in my studio, staring at a hundred Genevieve’s looking back at me, I would tell him I needed air, and he’d be waiting from me at the corner of our street in no time—just like Cross used to do.

Just like Cross still does.

I haven’t given up on him yet. And, sure, I can call it closure all I want, but we have something. Something solid. I don’t care that he walked away after Damien talked to him. I wouldn’t put it past my overprotective brother to try and convince Cross that I’d be better off without him.

But Cross? He should’ve known better.

I’m basing what I do next on nearly twenty years of friendship. Hoping that I can still rely on Christopher to put me first when it matters, I send him another message.

Savannah thinks I should.

I hope he understands that, at least tonight, I have my sister-in-law backing me on this. Considering Damien might not get too pussy if he realizes that the two most important people in his life outvoted him, that should make Christopher feel a little better about bringing me back to the Devil’s Playground where this all started.

I can be there in ten. Should I park in the usual spot?

I think about it for a second.

And then I smile.

Cross should’ve known better, but so should Damien. I’ve never been the perfect mafia princess, easy to control, no matter who I pretended—or what Damien deluded himself into believing.

I stayed in the manor like a good girl for too long. It’s time for this butterfly to break free.

Nope. I’ll meet you at the front gate.

I toss my phone onto the bed. Christopher will be here in no time.

I have to get ready to bait Cross da Silva.

Because one way or another? I’ll know exactly where we stand after tonight.