There Will Be Blood (not mine)

43. The Races

JUSTIN POV

I sat across from Maddie at the breakfast table, watching her practically chew her bottom lip off.

I was presently droning through the first family breakfast together in what must have been years. I couldn't remember the last time I had my mother's French toast, but the arrival of my grandparents had brought us together. Of course, it was like a war zone around here lately with Cici and Nicola trying to outdo each other at every turn, but at least no one had died yet.

Currently, I was trying to figure out what the hell was going on with Maddie. She looked like she was always thinking. I knew something was wrong, but I hadn't had the chance to ask her in private yet. She said she was worried about finals, so I took that as her explanation as to why she looked so out of it.

I wished I could read Maddie's mind, because I'm sure there was a lot going on in there. What wasn't she telling me? I wasn't stupid, and I knew she was covering something up. I didn't want to push; I figured she needed to think out whatever was going on. It would be better if she came to me, but if she was in danger, I wouldn't stand for not knowing. I would give it another day or so before I demanded an explanation.

"Hey, boy. Are you listening to me?" Nicola slapped the back of my head.

"Yeah, what do you want?" I was brought back to the bickering around the table.

Before he could speak, Cici stepped in from down the table. "Don't hit my grandson, you bastard. Apologize."

"I don't apologize, and I can do what I want. He's my grandson too."

"You need to be rotting in a jail somewhere."

"I hate you."

"Aright, alright. Just take a breath." I diffused the situation. Everyone was in their own conversations, leaving me to deal with the two old geezers.

"Go drink yourself to death," Nicola snapped.

"Honey, I would suck the alcohol out of a deodorant stick to get away from you." Cici turned away from us and went back to talking to Olivia.

"Why are you always creating trouble?" I asked my grandfather.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He sipped his coffee.

"Just have sex with her and save us all the dramatics."

He raised an eyebrow as if he was contemplating the idea, but didn't say anything.

"What were you talking about before?" I asked, trying to get back on topic.

"Oh, I was saying that I'm taking everyone to the races this afternoon."

"Really, the horse races? We haven't done that in a long time."

"I miss it. The only thing we have to bet on in Sicily is which prostitute will die from some venereal disease first."

"You make it sound like you're living in old world Italy. You know that's not how it is."

"What do you know? The last time you were there, I could walk." He hit his now defunct legs. "I hate this chair. It makes me limited to the fucking downstairs."

"I was there last year, or does your memory not go back that far? And you don't need to go anywhere but the bathroom and in front of the TV."

"Shut the fuck up," he chuckled, finishing off his coffee. "Anyway, before I leave in a couple of days, I wanted to take us out."

"I have to leave in a few hours." I checked my watch.

"You still going after Aro's boys?"

"Yeah, I tracked them to secluded compound in Maine. We're going to go pick them up tonight. I just got word that they moved from Boston yesterday. They're on the run."