“Enough,” Frankie growls, stepping in front of me and tucking me behind him. “You’re out of line, Nico – go pull your shit together.” “You two,” Nico murmurs, livid, backing off but glancing between us. “What a fucking pair you make. The stripper and the hitman, both with hearts of gold. So fuckin

“Christian!” Nico barks out, and I hear the hard slap of a hand on flesh. “Stop! Think for a minute!” The room goes quiet for a second, the only noise Calvin’s panting breath. “Get your fucking hand off of me, Nico,” Christian growls, livid. “Two minutes,” Nico snaps, his voice tense to a brea

“Tony, get the fuck back home,” Christian snaps, grabbing him by the shirt collar and hauling him towards the door. “I need you to do serious triage here – you need to go convince dad of the truth!” “Why can’t you do it!?” Tony gasps. “Because he’ll fucking shoot me on sight right now!” Christia

“Iris,” Christian scolds, frowning at me. “You don’t need that. Besides, you shouldn’t mix it with the drink.” I look at my husband seriously for a moment, wondering what it is that stopped him really, when Frankie snaps the tin shut and slips it into my hand. “For later, then,” he says, speaking

Ricky pulls himself up on a stool too as I clench my jaw against my tears and start to make plates for the two of them, wanting quiet desperately to do something kind for them and haunted by the fact that nothing I do can really ever put a dent in the sadness of this day. The children are quiet as w