Bellissimo Lotta (Beautiful Struggle): Companion Novel to Bellissimo Fortuna (The Family Trilogy Book 2) (20 page)

Friday night at the Agosto’s again. I’m beginning to think Gianna should charge me room and board for as much as I’m here. Angelo is stealing everyone’s attention, and Bronson is in a snit that Callie is working and he could have just had his son all weekend, but she didn’t let him know. After dinner, Bianca grabs us beers and we all walk outside. A car door slams, and I see Callie marching up the driveway, her face pulled tight, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes.

“If you are going to work during your weekends with Angelo why can’t I just have him?”
Damn it, Bronson
. Can’t you just stop for a second and think? I look to Bianca and she meets my gaze. We both know this is going to turn ugly.

Their arguments have been non-stop for months, all of us caught in their heated exchanges, pushing each of us farther apart than ever.

“Fuck,” Bianca whispers. Her face pale, eyes closed tightly in pain.

“Amy?” Bronson chokes. Shit, how does Callie know about her? This is definitely going to get ugly. If Amy sought out Callie it was to hurt her, to get back at Bronson for using her in his ploy against Frank. Amy wasn’t innocent, she was used as a mole by Locati’s camp and we were just smarter than her.

“She knows, Bronson.” Bianca tells him. I get up and steer Bianca towards the house, needing to give them space.

“They have to figure this out. We just have to be there for them.” I try to reason with her when she fights me.

“I know. I just hate witnessing it.” My hand reaches for the door at the same time Callie’s laughter echoes in the cool night air. She is doubled over in laughter, not the funny-happy laughter. This is the full on
she’s about to lose her mind
laughter. Bianca sees it and halts.

Callie screams she’s done and pushes past us into the house where Angelo is. Not one to let anything go, Bronson opens his fucking mouth and threatens to take custody from her.
And
compares her to her father. It all erupts in a blur; Bianca slaps her brother, her perfect handprint staining his face. I grab her trying to pull her off him.

Callie is collapsing while holding Angelo, Bronson at the last second grabs the back of his shirt, but his head still hits the coffee table. Blood is sullying the tile floor. He’s staring at the mess at his feet unmoving. Gianna grabs Angelo, and I sink to the floor at Callie’s side.

“Bronson, what the fuck happened?” Shouting at him to give me some answers.

“I don’t know. We were arguing, she picked up the baby and collapsed.” I know she has some kind of medical issues, but I don’t know what’s happening to her.

“Bianca, call an ambulance. Her breathing is labored, and she isn’t responsive.” Bronson snaps to attention and drops to his knees. He runs his hand to the back of her head, orders me to stay with her while he goes to his son.

The ambulance arrives, and there is some argument about who goes with who. All of us wish we could dissect our bodies and spread them out for both Callie and Angelo. Bianca rides with Callie, Bronson takes Angelo, and I follow. Angelo needs stitches; Callie is rushed into surgery. A bleeding ulcer. It’s bad. I watch Bronson struggle, realizing what he had in front of him and how he has thrown it away time and time again. I know how he feels, and I suspect he will be a man on a mission while she recovers. Unstoppable. He’s hit rock bottom, and there is only one way to go. I just hope he’s able to climb the walls he erected and get to the other side. He needs to pray Callie is more accepting of apologies than Bianca’s been.

I’ve stayed in Miami most of the summer while Bronson took a leave of absence to tend to his family. He’s not making much headway, but Callie hasn’t thrown him out. I reach for my phone and check on Bianca.

Me: Miss you.

Bianca: You know where I am.

Me: Seeing you and being with you . . . two different things.

Bianca: I’m trying. Just not there yet.

And that’s the question.

Will she ever be there?

When do I give up?

The world breaks everyone, and afterward, some are strong at the broken places.

~
Ernest Hemingway

Chapter 19

Bianca

My last final. I’m officially a college graduate, or I will be next week when I walk across that stage. I just need to decide what I’m going to do. I may look into teaching positions in Tampa, but definitely not elementary . . . not my forte.

My feet haven’t crossed the threshold, and my phone is ringing. I can’t get a proper greeting out before, “Girls night?” is panted through the phone. Ah, Callie is at her limit.

“Hell yeah,” I agree. “Big brother driving you insane?”

“He’s fucking nuts, Binks. What did I see in him?” Please, she’s going down . . . fast.

“He’s nuts alright, but you love him.”

“So.”

“That’s progress. You’ve completed the denial phase.” That didn’t take long.

“Shut up and be here at nine.” Bossy little thing.

“He has no clue you’re planning this, does he?” I’m laughing as I imagine his reaction.

“Nope.” I decide to up the challenge.

“Well, make it worth it. Dress like the slut I tried to be in college.”

Her unladylike snort makes me choke on my laughter. “Oh god, Bianca. You kill me.”

“I suggest you start drinking because you’re going to need it to deal with him tonight.” That’s the truth. He will lose his fucking mind. Once he made up his mind to get her back, there was no stopping him. Not even her.

“It’s like two in the afternoon.” I’m glad she can tell time.

“You should’ve started at noon.”

“Shit. I’m fucked.”

“Oh, yes. I wouldn’t miss this. I’ll be the one standing in the corner laughing.”

“You’re such a bitch.”

“Oh, if my brother wasn’t going to spank your ass for your stunt tonight, I may be tempted to do it for that insult.” I hear the dial tone buzzing in my ear. This is going to be good, and I’ll take her to Bar and introduce her to Lynsey and Heath. We’ll be safe there because if I bring her back with one hair out of place, I’ll be screwed.

I knock, and Bronson opens it. His eyes are questioning, shocked to see me. “You home for the summer?”

“After graduation next week, yes.” Callie walks in the kitchen, and I give her a whistle, “Hot damn, mama, you look hot.”

“Oh, fuck no.” The fun begins. I knew Bronson wasn’t going to be okay with her leaving for the night, and with the shorts that show her petite frame and her hair down, he’s losing his shit. I just grin.

“Alright, let’s roll Bianca. You driving?” She ignores him, and I have to give my girl kudos, she’s dishing it back as good as he gave.

“Of course, this is your first night drinking in how long? I think I hear some lemon drops calling your name,” I purposely taunt him.

“Oh, fuck no,” he repeats. Callie looks at him like he’s an idiot. “Bianca, can you give us a minute?” His jaw is set; he’s wound so tight he may snap. It’s comical to witness.

“Nah, I’m good here.” If looks could kill, I’d be six feet under . . . it doesn’t help Callie laughs and he stalks towards her not leaving an inch between their bodies.

“Nice plan, Callie. Now, I’m raising the stakes. Come back here somewhat sober, and I promise I will own your ass tonight. You let me know how you’re gonna play this, and I’ll be here.” He gets closer to her and I can’t hear what he whispers to her, but I see her face turn red and her eyes close.

“A-and if I’m late?” I hear her stutter.

He whispers something else to her while he trails his fingertips up her legs. Her body sways, he steps back from her with a wink. “See you . . . soon.”

I push a stumbling Callie through the door. “Holy fuck, Callie. That’s my brother, and even I can admit that was fucking hot as hell. Why are you leaving the house?”

“Because I need alcohol to figure out if I’m going to be on my back or my knees tonight. Lets go.” She hurries to my car and plunks her ass in the passenger seat.

“You sure?” I put the key in the ignition.

“I need a few minutes to myself. I know where this will end tonight so I’m not deluding myself, but I need to prepare.”

“You aren’t going into war,” I remind her. But love is a battle, isn’t it?

“Binks, I’ve fought the fight for over two years . . . this is the war all the battles have led up to. I’m playing for keeps and so is he. I just want to make sure neither of us loses. I need some space, decide if I’m going to surrender.”

She’s conceding. That much I’m sure of. I’ll give her the time she needs and not point out her delusions.

I pull in, park, and wait for to meet me at the front of the car. She keeps checking her watch. “Callie, we’ve been gone all of ten minutes. Let’s go in, have some drinks, then you can go home, Cinderella.”

“Where are we?”

“Bar.”

“No shit, Bianca. How’d you find this place?”

“By accident one night. I’ve been coming here ever since. Heath De Luca owns it.”

“Really? How’s he?”

“Not in the business. His dad retired when . . . ” I trail off. The heaviness of the situation will weigh us down, and I don’t want that tonight.

She grips my hand. “Say it. After my dad killed yours. After my dad showed his true colors and decimated everyone’s life.”

“It’s just hard to remember. I don’t want to upset you, bring up bad memories.”

“Hey, I’m not him. I’m not responsible for his actions. It’s taken me awhile to realize that, but you need to remember. It won’t upset me, but I’ll always feel your pain for what happened. He was like a father to me.”

“C’mon. Enough of this. It’s done. Let’s go get some drinks.” I plaster the smile across my face, the one that hides the pain. Fake it until you make it.

Heading to my favorite table, I sit down and let her take the seat next to me. Lynsey is singing, and Callie is immediately mesmerized. “She’s good, right?”

“Holy shit. I’ve never heard anything like it. She sings from her soul.”

“It doesn’t seem a happy place to be, does it?”

“I don’t know her, and she breaks my heart.”

“She’s great. A bit guarded, but she’s really sweet.”

“I feel like I’m so disconnected from your life. It’s sad.”

“Nah, I had to roll with the punches, make adjustments. Find my way. You’re home and back at my side, it’s all working out how it’s supposed to. I’m thinking of asking her if she’ll sing at your wedding.” Thank goodness we didn’t have drinks because she would have choked.

“Stop. One step at a time.”

“Okay, I’ll bet you.”

“I’ve had enough Agosto bets tonight.”

“What?”

“Never mind. What are you betting?”

“One year. You’ll be in Miami, engaged, possibly married, with another kid in the works.”

“I’ll agree to the possible living in Miami part, but everything else. Nope. I think we are starting back at square one.”

“You’re fucking in denial. You win; I’ll do what you want. I win, your bachelorette party is in Turks and Caicos, no matter what my brother says.”