Chapter 22: Chapter 22

C H A P T E R N I N E

Although I could have spent some time in a dream state, it only felt like a matter of seconds until Falcone's arm tightened to the point where it almost ached and almost choked me. At that point, I opened my eyes and felt the heat of him go.

He was tugging on his luggage when I lay over to see his shadow near the bed.

He moved again, his knee hitting the bed, his finger resting softly on my lips, and I watched as his dark head shook in the negative once as I stood up on an elbow and prepared to speak when he did.

Uh-oh.

He then vanished.

A millisecond later, I heard a scuffle, some gasps, and then a hard, loud thump, as if someone's body had collided with the wall.

Then I heard my sister Isabelle exclaim, "What the heck!”

When I saw the lights turn on in the hall, I flung back the blankets and jumped out of bed.

“Isabelle! Jesus! " I heard my Dad yell before I entered the hall to see Isabelle caught against the wall with Falcone's hand in her chest, Falcone standing in his cargo pants with the top button undone, Dad in the hall wearing only pajama pants staring angrily at Isabelle and Melinda joining in late, like me, however unlike me she was wearing one of her long, lacy, satin negligees, what she always wore, even when I was a kid.

“What are you doing here?” Dad asked Isabelle, his eyes narrowed on her, apparently unsurprised and unconcerned that Falcone was standing in his hallway in the middle of the night, bare-chested and barefoot with the top button on his cargos undone.

For my part, I wasn't shocked to see Isabelle dressed similarly to Arlene had been yesterday, with the exception that she was sporting a camisole that was tied up the front but was at least one, maybe two sizes too small, allowing flesh and a hint of breast to show through the lacing. She wasn't wearing fishnets either; instead, she was donning tights with several large holes and runs. She also desperately needed a makeover since her eyeliner and mascara were giving her raccoon eyes. Last but not least, her rat's nest-style strawberry blonde wavy hair.

My sister. Extreme skankage

"I grew up here," Isabelle said, and Falcone took a step back, lowering his arm and approaching me.

"Yeah, but I think I made it clear the last time you were here that you weren't allowed again," Dad said, and my gaze shifted to Melinda, who was standing there, both arms wrapped around her tummy, her pixie-pretty face pallid and her lip trembling.

When I realized this, I shifted my eyes back and mentally speared my sister with imaginary gigantic African tribal lances.

"Fuck, all I need is a shower and something to eat." You can't even let me take a shower when I've had some crap going on? " Isabelle retorted.

"Mouth, Isabelle," I cautioned, knowing Melinda despised it when we cursed. She said that ladies did not curse. Of course, I swore in my brain and even out loud, but I never did it in front of Melinda.

"Fuck you, Gigi," Isabelle growled as she approached me.

"It's the middle of the night," Dad interrupted her.

Her gaze shifted to Dad. "Fucking what? " Isabelle reappeared.

"Isabelle, remember who you're speaking to," I yelled, and her gaze was drawn to me.

"Fuck you again," she said, before asking, "What are you doing here?" ”

"Escapin' yer stuff that spilled to her house last night," Falcone answered, and Isabelle's gaze shifted from him to me to Falcone to Dad and Melinda.

"I see, I'm your daughter, I got stuff going on, and I can't even have any of your precious water to take a fuckin'shower, but Gianie, beautiful, great, perfect Gianie, she can crash here with her fuck friend,"

I took in a breath when I felt Falcone's body tighten next me, as Isabelle whispered to them.

"Isabelle!" said Melinda.

“What? " Isabelle retorted. "You're giving me shit about being here late at night, but Gia, gorgeous Gia, she can play with her fuck toy just next door and you don't give a shit?" " Isabelle inquired.

I took in another breath as Falcone's rage erupted in a surge, Dad's face turned so red I thought he'd have a heart attack, but Melinda, she moved. She approached Isabelle and smacked her across the face, jerking Isabelle's head to the side.

Suddenly, Isabelle leapt at Melinda, causing everyone to move. With his other hand in my tummy, Dad held me back from engaging in a hair-pulling, bitch-slapping brawl with my sister as Falcone pushed Isabelle against the wall once again. At the same moment, he dragged Melinda to safety and pressed Isabelle against the wall once more.

I stopped trying to push against him when Isabelle started to fight, kicking out at his legs with her feet (and missing) and tearing at his forearm with her ragged, peeling black painted nails (which I feared would cause some damage), but he held her against the wall with one hand, his face set and tight, his jaw so firmly that it appeared to be about to break.

"Take your hand off my hand!" " she screamed.

"Calm the fuck down," Falcone said again.

"I yelled, 'Get your fucking hand off my fucking hand!" Isabelle screeched again.

We then heard it. The glass is shattered. Everyone stopped and kept still save Falcone, who ran to the stairs after his first freeze. That's when we heard two additional noises: glass breaking and two similar whooshes followed by two muffled booms.

Then we noticed the unmistakable dance of firelight emanating from the stairway.

“Falcone!" I yelled, rushing to the stairs without thinking.

Dad grabbed my stomach with a strong arm and yanked me back. He threw me behind him, raised his finger in my face, and said, "Stay here! ”

He then dashed down the steps.

“Ray! " Melinda sobbed, but I moved.

"Go!" I cried back at her. Put on your shoes and coat. "Go, go, go! Get some for Dad!" I yelled when Melinda didn't move. ”

Melinda hurried to her room, and I turned to face Isabelle.

"Be wise," I yelled. "Stay here."

"Bite me," she yelled back as she scowled at me.

I didn't give Isabelle any time since I didn't have any to spare. Running to the guest bedroom, donning my boots, I snatched up Falcone's boots and t-shirt. It was Falcone who I hit as I was getting about to lift off the ground. Before I could flinch, he wrapped me up in a blanket he had, pulled me into his arms, and we started to move.

I inhaled smoke, which made me feel warm, and exhaled fresh air, which made me feel cold. As soon as Falcone's arms left me, I was set down on my feet. He was still wearing his tee and boots, so I fought with the blanket. I finally managed to clear my brain in time to watch him sprint back into the house barefoot and bare-chested. I threw off the blanket, threw his boots and shirt outside, and dashed around the house's side, down the slope, and over the low wall to the entrance to Mrs. Bartolome's apartment. Because she occasionally had trouble hearing, I continued to beat on her door and yell until the outside light came on and her door finally opened.

"Giabella, what on -?" she exclaimed, peering up at me from her old lady height, her blue hair appearing natural, not like she'd been sleeping on it. ”

I interrupted her. "No time, Mrs. B, fetch a jacket and put on some shoes. Quickly, quickly, quickly! Upstairs, there's a fire."

I didn't wait for her to do anything. I dashed into her house, shooing the cats away, and raced to her bedroom. By the time she arrived to me, I had her fleecy old woman robe in my hands, which I hurled at her before sprinting to the closet. I grabbed a pair of fur-lined winter boots, snatched her arm in mine, and hurried her out the door.

When we got outside, she grabbed my hand to keep herself steady while she put on her boots, and by the time we got to the front door, Melinda was there, a cell to her ear, her body draped in a blanket. But I came to a halt and looked when I noticed Big Ben, of all persons, with Dad's front garden hose on full blast, aimed at flames pouring out of the house's front window.

"Where have Dad and Falcone gone?" I yelled at Melinda, and she removed her phone from her ear and said, "They're in there. Ray went and fetched the fire extinguishers."

Shit!

For 10 years, my father had served as a volunteer fireman. He had extinguishers all around the place. He and Falcone were the exact type of macho moron who would use fire extinguishers to fight a fire.

I forced myself to take a deep breath and remind myself that neither panicking nor having a yelling fit — both of which I so wanted to do — would assist anyone.

I then drew Mrs. Bartolome, who was shaking, to my side and asked Melinda, "Isabelle?”

Melinda shook her head and cast her gaze to the side of the home, where a tree had been planted near the door that Isabelle frequently used to leave the house undetected. Dad had often threatened to tear down the tree, but Melinda argued that the home would seem out of proportion because there was another one on the opposite side of the building.

Even though my sister was an absolute b*tch, I was relieved that he didn't since I knew she had climbed down the tree to escape.

This was at odds with my perception that she took fled, leaving her mother and me there, without saying a word or giving any care to anybody else in her family. especially after herfucking trash caused my childhood home to be firebombed.

As Big Ben continued to aim the hose at the window, I squeezed Mrs. Bartolome even tighter and glared at the house, begging Dad and Falcone to emerge.

The firemen arrived after hearing the sirens, and it took them about a nanosecond to get their sh*t together and begin putting out the fire. Falcone emerged from the dancing flames still bare-chested and barefoot while Dad stepped out with a coat and boots.

I dashed over to his boots and tee and handed them to him.

He wrapped his arm around me and led me to the curb, where my parents and Mrs. Bartolome were waiting for Big Ben.

Falcone ripped his shirt over his head but continued to speak as he dragged it down his abs.

"Would you mind telling me why the heck you're here?" he snubbed Big Ben.

Big Ben said, "Orders."

"Is it Gia or Isabelle?" Falcone inquired.

"Gia," Big Ben replied.

Falcone's face tightened, but I was too preoccupied with freaking out since it was also covered in soot.

As a result, I approached him and placed my hands on his abs.

"Baby," I said softly, leaning towards him and looked up, "are you okay?"

"Yeah," he mumbled as he stared down at me.

"Are you certain? You haven't been burnt anywhere? ”

He had peered down at me but hadn't concentrated on me, but suddenly he did.

His arm wrapped over my shoulders, drawing me in closer.

"I'm OK, Gia," he whispered to me before turning his gaze to the home.

My gaze was drawn to the mansion as well. Then I wrapped my arms around his waist, moved in close, and put my cheek on his chest. That's when his second arm encircled me.

Neighbors came out, Dad, Melinda, and Mrs. Bartolome moved in, and we watched the firefighters fight the fire.