Chapter 19 Gemma

Casper looks at me and then to Antonio as he helps reset his finger. Antonio bites down with his eyes shifting to the ceiling as the subtle pop echoes around the waiting room.

“Gem, I’ve seen you gut and clean an octopus, branzino, and whole birds. But popping a bone into place makes you squeamish?” Casper laughs.

I shake my head. “Animals and humans just feel different.”

Casper shrugs and Antonio smirks with beads of sweat spreading across his forehead. Those devilish brows of his zero in on his hand. The knuckle begins to swell, and my heart sinks wondering what happened before Casper got here.

“How do you feel about needles?” Antonio asks as his left hand shakes, but he presses down on the desk to stop it. He offers me a small grin to ease my worry, but he’s failing.

“I can pin you,” Casper volunteers with a smile. “It will be just like last time.”

“Don’t remind me, and don’t worry about it. I can do it.” Antonio replies and walks down the hall into the same room he treated Bash in the other night.

“What happened the last time?” I ask Casper.

Casper clicks his teeth. “Oh no. I’m not telling secrets of Tre Fratelli. If Antonio wants to tell you, he will. Tell me more about these pictures. Where were they?”

“I just picked up my car and the envelope was under the passenger seat,” I tell him.

Casper nods. “I’m going to go check out your car. What was the damage done to your car again?”

“The rear windshield was shattered and two flat tires. Why?” I ask him as I see Casper’s wheels turning.

The main thing about my three brothers is that they work well as a team in every aspect of their lives; criminal and otherwise. They each have their strengths and weaknesses.

One of the most impressive things about Casper is his ability to see a story being told through objects. He can notice things other people don’t. In that way, he’s a great defense attorney, and in another way, he’s even better at dismantling stories being told through objects. He’s the best at finding and getting rid of evidence.

He moves behind the desk opening the drawers and moving things around before putting a sheet of paper, a roll of tape, and a few pencils on the desk. Casper looks over his shoulder where Antonio is treating himself and glances back at me.

“You finally got the guy.” Casper grins as he gathers his supplies.

“It’s been like a week,” I scoff with a deflective roll of my eyes.

“An interesting week, that’s still ongoing. I remember everything, Gemma. I remember the first time you asked me about Antonio. You were what sixteen, seventeen?”

That’s how old I was when I spoke to Casper about my crush. Seven years feels like an eternity ago compared to what’s been happening since Friday night. Exhaustion, panic, worry, and outright anger blur with my sexual desires of finally getting to be with Antonio.

I chuckle. “Stupid little me, chasing after the bad boy best friend of her older brothers. He never even looked at me.”

“He shouldn’t have,” Casper scoffs. “He was trying to find himself, stay out of prison, and pursue his medical degree. You’re an adult now, with a few bodies under your belt, and a more realistic view of the world we live in.”

“I can’t believe you’re okay with any of this.”

“I don’t really have a choice. This is your life, Gemma. On paper, Antonio’s not the guy I’d pick for you, but in real life? He’s a man of loyalty, respect, and principles. I’m not holding his time in prison against him because he fucking served it.”

“What about Bash? Bash didn’t get locked up,” I ask him.

Casper’s face drops a bit, but his eyes rise to meet mine. “I’m not going to sugar coat this, Gem, but he’s Sebastien Marzano. There’s no way the eldest son of our father, an enforcer who worked their way up to becoming Consigliere goes to prison. The best option for our family and La Familia was to keep Antonio protected and take care of him when he got out.”

“He’s still putting his life on the line for us,” I murmur.

“For you,” Casper corrects me. “He’s only doing all of this because he cares about you. He’s been out of La Familia business for a while. At least, he hasn’t had to do anything for the New York family for years.”

“He mentioned Uncle Charles holding what he did to get his criminal record sealed over him. He lost his job because of us, because of me.”

“I’ll look into that, Gem. Once this shit with Verducci is over, and we figure out who sent you those pictures, I’ll make sure Antonio’s made whole. Now, stop beating yourself up over shit you have no control over. I’m going to see if I can get some fingerprints off your car and see if there are any links to New York.”

“That’s a fucking long shot, Casper. The car’s been towed twice, repaired, and who knows how many people touched it before that.”

Casper grins. “You’re right, but what most people fail to realize is when they slash tires, they’ll press their hands on the side of the car. If it’s too many prints, I’ll let it go. I just have to see to be sure.”

“Should I send Bash pics of those photos?” I ask him.

Casper shakes his head. “No. If you need to show him, wait until he comes back. Don’t send them digitally. We don’t need any more evidence to clean up. I’ll talk to you later, Gem.”

I thank Casper for coming at a moment’s notice and head down the hall to check on Antonio. When I step into the exam room, his shirt is off, revealing red splotches up and down his torso. There’s a needle and bandages on the exam table as Antonio’s soft green eyes under that menacing brow stare at the items beside his hand.

Once I stand next to him, I can see the hesitation in his eyes. When he reaches for the needle, he stops. His hand hovers over it for a few seconds with the redness and swelling getting worse by the minute.

My voice is barely over a whisper when I tell him, “If you want, I can help. Just tell me what to do.”

Antonio offers me a timid grin of gratitude and pushes out a slow breath, saying, “I need to wrap my fingers.”

“What’s in the needle?”

“Local anesthetic to numb the pain.”

The way he hesitates has questions circling my mind, and now’s not the time to hold back. “Do you want me to help inject it?”

“I don’t think I want it at all. I like the pain,” he replies stoically.

“Do you want to wrap it at all? Won’t the swollen finger get in the way of your work?”

Antonio runs his fingers through his hair and immediately clenches his face in pain. Something so innate as touching his hair is painful. But then, a slight grunt with a sigh escapes his throat. He likes the pain. I know he said as much, but the energy radiating off him is undeniable.

“When did you know how much you liked it?” My curiosity morphs with my lust and is enhanced by the adrenaline pulsing through me. Memories of the tension of Antonio entering me with his thumb from behind, the girth of his cock in front, and then his hand gripping me by the throat has my body willing and ready to push its limits.

“Once I turned eighteen, they let me out of solitary to join Gen Pop. After a few fights which landed me in the infirmary, I discovered they’re only allowed to give aspirin for non-life-threatening pain. I learned to thrive in it; to love every bump, bruise, and drop of blood spilled. The problem is, I love the result and not the cause.”

I reach for the bandage and his left hand, licking my lips as he inhales a sharp breath through clenched teeth. A smile spreads across my face when I see his reaction. The way he moans with sexual satisfaction from me squeezing the swelling finger as I whisper, “How much do you love the result when I’m the cause?”