“What the fuck are you doing here?” I growled.
Izzy jumped up and told her parents that maybe they could go get us some lemonade while Dom stepped up to my side and said, “Who the fuck are you?”
“I’m Cade Armanelli, brother to Bastian Armanelli and cousin to Dante Armanelli, the man standing next to you.”
“What in the actual fuck, Cade?” I murmured.
Dom’s stare widened, his muscles bunched, and his head cranked slowly my way. “What did he just say?”
“Dom …” I started, “take a breath.”
“You better not feed me that bullshit, Dante. What did he just say?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. It was all going to come out anyway. “You heard what he said.”
Izzy and her mother were walking back in with a tray of drinks, and their father was just taking a seat in his recliner when Dom cranked his arm back and punched me square in the face.
I probably could have ducked, but I figured I deserved maybe one, two good ones.
“Dom!” Izzy dropped the tray. Her mom screamed, Mr. Hardy started to chuckle, and Cade laughed his ass off.
I rubbed my jaw and bent over. “Damn. Your right hook still don’t play. Dimitri didn’t even connect.”
“Dimitri swung at you?” Izzy asked, disbelief in her tone.
“I’m calling Dex and Declan. They’re going to hit your ass too,” Dom grumbled, turning to look for his phone.
I rubbed my jaw. “I’ll give you that one, Dom. No one else gets any more.”
“You’ll give me that one? You fucking lied to me about your name! You brought my sister into the mob with you!”
“Now, Dominic, lower your voice. They have their reasons for hiding their name.” Mrs. Hardy set her tray of drinks down on the dining room table to the right of the living room and bent to help Izzy clean up the glass she’d broken.
“Mom, you knew?” Izzy whispered.
“Of course I knew. Dante’s mother and I are best friends.”
“Oh my God.” Izzy scoffed. “You would know and not tell us.”
“You didn’t tell me about being sober and working undercover as an addict, Izzy,” her mom threw back, her brow furrowed like she was hurt by it all.
Jesus, this was a clusterfuck.
Mr. Hardy leaned over to grab the remote like nothing going on was a surprise. “Darcy, Izzy can make her own choices. She’s a grown woman.”
“Don’t involve yourself in our mother-daughter relationship,” Mrs. Hardy threw back, but she had a small smile on her face. She looked back at her daughter. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
Izzy nodded but didn’t really meet anyone’s eye.
Cade’s laughter trailed off as he took in the situation. “We should go, Dante.”
That’s when Izzy’s head shot up. “Dante? I’m part of this too.”
“No. You’re done with this.” Suddenly Cade’s voice was firm as he and Izzy stared at each other.
“Izzy, you’re not going anywhere with them,” snarled Dom. “And they’re leaving our house. We don’t need the damn mob here.”
Cade cracked his neck once as he stared at my best friend. “I’m not the mob, Dominic Joseph Hardy. I’m a businessman. Dante”—he glared at Izzy—“and only Dante, get back to Chicago soon.”
With that, Cade walked out, and Izzy scoffed before stomping off.
“You can go right now,” Dom spat.
“Knock it off, Dom,” Mrs. Hardy chastised. “You two can’t bicker when your sister is sick in there. I’m worried something is wrong.”
“Nothing’s wrong other than that she’s mad at me.” As I said it, her door opened.
The commotion must have brought her out to us.
And it died with her standing there. We all stared at Delilah Hardy. She looked like she’d lost weight in the baggy sweatshirt that basically swallowed her up. The bright colors she’d worn in Puerto Rico were gone, replaced by plain white, and her socks were long and black, coming up her calves.
She looked gorgeous. But closed off.
Her hazel eyes didn’t hold much emotion at all, like she was tired of everything.
“That’s not what shut her down,” Dom sneered because he didn’t get it. He didn’t get that Delilah and I were more than friends. “She’s traumatized from being held at gunpoint. You were the reason she was in danger, whether you wanted to be or not. You endangered my baby sisters and—”