“Sal!” Gina hissed. “Of course she’s not going to be a liability. She’s Leo’s fiancée. She’s family. How can you say such a thing?”

“We don’t know her from Adam. Leo, you better keep your girl in line.”

“If you’ve got a problem, you take it up with Gemma. She’s the one who opened her big mouth,” Leo said. “And you will leave Faith out of this. I wasn’t kidding back there. Faith is my concern.”

“Are you threatening me, boy?”

Faith clenched and unclenched her hands in her lap. She wanted to scream. She wanted to blurt out the truth. Nothing would have felt better than to say: “No need to worry. I watched Angelo mow some poor guy down in an alley. Leo and I aren’t really together. I’m his prisoner to protect you assholes.” But she was too afraid of what Leo might do to her if she lost control and spoke her mind. And the situation was too dangerous with Sal at the moment. This wasn’t a family that made idle threats.

It was bad enough that she’d said what she’d said, admitted she wasn’t some naïve flower like she was supposed to. But Gemma had all but thrown the truth in her face. Even if she hadn’t known anything, it would be ridiculous to think she wouldn’t now. She’d rather they consider her a possible liability than a possible idiot.

10

This had to be the most fucked-up Christmas Leo had ever had. It took all his self-control not to blame Faith. The other women in the family probably knew more than they let on. They weren’t stupid. But they did their talking in private, away from the men. Never in public. It was the separation and division that was necessary for everyone to remain sane. Denial and pretending. And now it was shattered forever.

But then, why be mad at Faith? It was Gemma who’d been the one to crack. He’d been kidding himself since Emilio. He’d comforted himself with the idea that his sister wouldn’t suspect the truth. Emilio was into some bad shit. He had a lot of enemies. The proximity of the time of his death to her worst beating could have easily been a coincidence. It was the lie he’d repeated to himself over and over. But the tension between them over the years had proven with little doubt that she knew. And tonight he couldn’t deny it any longer.

Once they got back to the house, Leo dragged Faith to her room. “Lock this door,” he growled.

“Wait…”

“WHAT?”

She shrank back at the evidence of his temper—the temper he’d inherited from Uncle Sal. Like Sal, he’d learned to keep a lid on it most of the time, to allow bits of steam to come off the surface. Sal’s outlet was crime. Leo’s was sadomasochism, but they were both treating the same disease. And lately Leo hadn’t been able to use the release valve.

He took a deep breath and said more quietly, “What?”