“Who?”
“Penny,” Naz said again. “A pianist prodigy Kyle wanted Roz to meet on her way home. He intended for her to maybe mentor the girl or something but, shit didn’t go down that way.”
“Fucking Kyle.”
His sister’s mentor was something else sometimes. The man had been beneficial for Roz’s career, but he was also one of those most annoying human beings on the earth. His music over everything philosophy didn’t exactly jam with their family values, either.
“Kyle’s not important,” Naz muttered, waving a hand. “The girl is.”
“Right. Penny, you said?”
“Penny Dunsworth.”
Why did that name sound familiar? It took him a minute to connect it to someone he knew—or rather, a man he knew of.
“Like the New Jersey family—that Dunsworth? Guy’s a multi-billionaire from overseas investments, right?”
“Also a fucking pedophile, apparently.”
Luca stiffened in the booth. “What?”
“She’s sixteen, almost seventeen,” Naz explained. “And in a bad way with an equally bad history, man. She tried to hang herself while Roz was there with Kyle. That kind of bad, Luca. Anyway, after that happened is when I showed up. They committed her, but Roz got it in her head how she wanted to help.”
That sounded like Roz.
But ... “Help, how?”
Naz chuckled sadly. “I guess they got her talking in the institution when the topic came up about sending her home to Jersey. She’s got proof of what her father’s been doing to her for years ... there was no way Roz was going to let her go back there. They’re just waiting for the American officials to take over the investigation at this point because ... well, it’s a whole mess.”
Shit.
As sick as he felt, Luca knew what his friend was trying to say without just saying it outright. “Roz wants you guys to bring her home.”
“Yeah.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
Naz shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know how to tell her it’s a bad idea ... I’m also not sure that it is. The girl needs help. Real help and not just for the shit that’s happened to her in private but also her. She needs people to help her.”
“You wanna be those people?”
“Roz does,” Naz murmured. “I want what Roz wants.”
Just like that.
Simple.
Luca respected it, even. It was why he never had an issue with his best friend dating his sister because the guy was gold. Good. Naz treated Roz like a fucking queen, and everybody knew it. What more could they want?
Hell, this situation would probably uproot his friend’s entire life, but Naz just looked ... ready for it. Ready to do whatever Roz wanted.
“How can I help?” Luca asked.
It only seemed right.
Naz grinned. “With the girl? Not much. She’s like a baby deer—scared of everything. And mean sometimes, or that’s what Roz says. But you can help me.”
“Anything, man.”
“Yeah, I know. That’s why you’re here. I’m going to be busy for a while to make this work and do everything to get it moving forward for Roz, so we can get Penny home and settled in with us. You could handle some things for me with la famiglia, right? Keep an eye on my guys and keep up with whatever my father has going on so nothing gets behind. Shit like that.”
“I got that, no worries,” Luca replied.
Naz sat a little straighter in the booth, his gaze less worried than before. “I figured.”
“Some people might not like it, though. Some made men from the family, I mean, but—”
“Fuck them,” Naz interrupted, his hand cutting between them to end the subject right then and there. “It’s been you and me. Always was, always is. You know?”
Luca nodded. “Yeah, I know.”
Some things never changed.
He was okay with that.
2.
Penny
THE reflection in the windowpane of Penny’s therapist’s office in uptown Manhattan was far more interesting than the conversation she was trying to not engage. Not that her efforts to ignore the doctor’s questions did her any good.
“You’ve been living with Rosalynn Puzza and Nazio Donati for almost two months now, right?” her doctor asked. “How’s that going?”
“Fine.”
“And?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?” the therapist questioned, raising a brow behind Penny.
She could see that in the reflection of the glass, too. As clear as she could see her own, ghostly pale, heart-shaped face. The white-blonde hair that she hadn’t washed in more days than she cared to remember curtained her face more than it framed it. She didn’t mind. It was easier not to be seen.
Penny didn’t want to be looked at. Not by anyone. If only everyone else felt the same way as her. Things would be far easier.
“Your life has been significantly changed in just two months,” the therapist said. “You went from living overseas and attending a prestigious private school for the musically inclined to returning back to the states with new guardians. All during handling the police’s investigation of your father. It isn’t surprising if things are a little ... overwhelming for you, Penny.”
“And it’s fine.”
Usually, but she didn’t add that out loud. It would only encourage the therapist to ask more or probe into the topic, and Penny didn’t want to talk in the first place. She was only here doing this because it was a demand made by the social worker that regularly showed up to check in on her and her new guardians.
Roz handled the bitch with grace.
Penny couldn’t say the same.
“How about the pregnancy? I understand you have no siblings, so Rosalynn—”
“I call her Roz. It’s what she likes.”
And since Penny liked Roz, she tried to do what the woman wanted. Like calling her by the name she preferred. It was a simple thing, sure, but if it was anyone else and she didn’t like them ... well, their life would be a far more miserable place.
“Roz, then,” the therapist was quick to say behind her, the scratching against paper telling Penny that the woman was writing on her notepad. “How do you feel about Roz’s pregnancy? Are you excited for the baby?”
She only shrugged.
“Miss Dunsworth, I don’t know what shrugs mean.”
Oh, yay.
She got the last name.
That usually meant the therapist was starting to catch on that Penny was going to spend their entire hour—one of three every week until the doctor and social worker believed she wasn’t a danger to herself anymore—deflecting everything she asked.
“You know,” the woman said, not unkindly, “the longer you drag on actually talking to me about certain things, the more time you’ll spend with me, Penny.”
Well ...
She had a point.
Not one Penny particularly liked. Then again, what did she like?
“I don’t know how I feel about the pregnancy,” Penny said, not bothering to respond to the obvious. “Roz is happy. She and Naz are planning a bunch of stuff. A move, and other shit. They don’t forget about me, though. It’s like ... not here, I guess? I can’t feel something for someone that’s not here, can I?”