Melanie hadn’t been lying when she’d come in from picking up their food—the day was blisteringly hot, and Luciano stuck to the shade as often as he could. Not far from Thorn Tattoo was a bar the DeRose brothers liked to meet at, and he headed directly for it. It was a little shy of four in the afternoon, and the place was starting to pick up for happy hour. A little noise was fine. It would help drown out his thoughts.

He couldn’t get over the things Melanie had said to him.

Was he being irresponsible by dodging the topic of Cassandra’s death every time it came up? He was. He wouldn’t deny it. As a person, Luciano considered himself sound. No one made the right choices all the time, and he silently loathed Melanie for judging him like she had.

That anger didn’t last long.

As Luciano made his way into the Twisted Oak, bag of food in hand, he thought about what Melanie had said. She always had his best interest at heart. As much as he disliked what they’d talked about, he couldn’t overlook the fact that she was the same woman who’d rescheduled all his appointments on the fly when he’d woken up with bronchitis while they were in Portland, and who’d somehow managed to make his schedule at a local convention at the same time mesh with his peak energy levels while minimizing the time he needed to be in public. She’d been the one to help him change out a busted tire on his bike on the road between Chicago and Detroit. She’d been the one to force him to stop regularly on their way to New York so he could warm up in her car. Every step of the way, Melanie had been with him.

It was the first time they’d ever fought about anything.

“Hey, Luc,” Porter said from behind the counter. He owned the place. Luciano figured it was too early for his regular staff to report in, so for now he was manning the bar himself while one of his waitresses saw to the tables.

“Hey, P.” Luciano sat himself down at the bar and tore his paper bag open.

“It’s against bar policy to eat that in here,” Porter told him as he shifted closer.

“You’re the owner.”

“That, I am.” Reaching out, he snagged a few fries. “You want your usual?”

“Yeah.” Luciano unwrapped his burger from the foil. He hadn’t told her, but Melanie had remembered to ask for no onions as well as no pickles. He sighed.

“Shitty day at work?” Porter slid a pint across the bar. It came to rest directly in front of Luciano. “Looks like life’s got you beat.”

“Yup.” Luciano bit into his burger, chewed, then swallowed. “I just needed to get away for a little bit and put my head back on straight. There’s too much going on. I’m not used to being back in town.”

“I didn’t think you’d ever come back, to be honest.”

His friendship with Porter started when the two of them were still in high school. In art class, Porter had noticed his drawings and they’d become fast friends. Porter claimed he didn’t have a talented bone in his body, but Luciano disagreed. What the man lacked in artistic ability, he made up for in home brewing. No one made beer as fine as his, and although he didn’t sell it at the bar due to food regulations, Luciano loved to kick back with a bottle at Porter’s place.

“It’s a mess.”

“I wish I could help.” Porter clapped him on the shoulder. “Sometimes life is shitty. I always say you’ve got to roll with the punches, but then again, I’ve never been knocked on my face and curb stomped like you’ve been.”

“That’s a pretty apt way to describe it.” Luciano let the conversation lapse. While Porter scrubbed the bar down and prepared for a busy night, Luciano ate his lunch and thought about what he was going to do. No matter what Melanie said, he needed to get out of town. He wasn’t ready to face his past yet. It was too soon. Too sudden. Too lonely.

Yet, if he wasn’t going to a convention on the east coast and burning his time there, then he needed a proper reason to get out of the city. Los Angeles was fun, but if he didn’t have something to occupy his mind, he knew it would wander back to the tragedy.

Out of impulse, he fished his phone out of his pocket and dialed Antonio. While the phone rang, he sipped at his beer. It was exactly what he needed to soothe his nerves and pull himself back together.

“Hello?” Antonio asked, almost suspiciously. It was rare that Luciano called.

“Hey. You busy?”

“Always,” Antonio replied dryly. As the most business oriented DeRose, Antonio was always involved with negotiations, profit reviews, board meetings, and all of the things that drove Luciano absolutely bonkers. He identified much more with his younger brother, Giovanni. They’d both followed in their father’s footsteps whereas Antonio had chosen business.

“Well, do you have a second to talk to me or not?” Luciano asked.

Going out on the town with his older brother wasn’t exactly his idea of fun, but if he could get Antonio to cut loose, Luciano imagined that he’d get back to the man he’d used to be. Fun loving, adventurous, charismatic….

A weekend in Los Angeles would do them both good.

“I’m listening.” Antonio paused. “Are you at work right now?”

“I’m taking lunch,” Luciano assured him. “I promise, I’m not calling you in front of a client… this time.”

He could only imagine Antonio’s sour face.

“So anyway, I was thinking that at the end of the month, you and me should get out and do something. I haven’t been home in two years, and a reunion is way overdue. You haven’t taken a vacation in what… ever? Since dad died, probably, if I had to guess?”

“You’d be correct.” Antonio wasn’t letting him in. Luciano scowled.

“Well, then come take one with me. End of April. Friday, Saturday, Sunday… maybe even Thursday, if you want to go wild. Or we can get together on Thursday and pack and go out to get whatever we want to bring with us. I feel like liquor is cheaper here. You have any idea?”

“Wait.” Antonio stopped him. “Are you saying that we should leave Vegas to go party somewhere else?”

When he put it like that, the plan sounded stupid. Luciano frowned. “Yeah. We live in Vegas. It’s not the party capital if you live here. In order to really cut loose, you need to get out of the city. Los Angeles sounds like it’d be a fun trip. I’d pay, of course. I just think it’s a shame that I’m back and we haven’t done anything exciting yet. Consider it brother bonding time.”

Antonio was silent, and Luciano was sure he was going to say no.

“I’ll consider it,” Antonio said at last. “I’ll get back to you no later than three days from now. I need to examine my schedule and see what’s required of me. After that, I’ll know whether I can afford the time off or not. I assume I’ll be talking to Melanie about finalizing the plans?”

A thought crossed Luciano’s mind, and he struck it down almost as soon as it did. With how cool and collected Antonio was, always one for maturity and professionalism, he’d be perfectly suited for Melanie.

But even after their disagreement, Luciano didn’t want to lose her.

Melanie had been faithful to him for the last two years. She’d put up with his bullshit and hadn’t called him out on being a sarcastic asshole when really, he deserved to be raked over the coals. Beyond that, in a guilty way, he liked her.

There was no question that when she was around, he felt differently. It wasn’t like how it had been with Cassandra—and it would never be—but there was something there that Luciano couldn’t ignore.

He didn’t want Antonio to have that.

“You can call me directly and we’ll talk. I know it’s easier to get in touch with her most of the time, but I’ll be sure to look out for your call.”

“Alright, then.” Antonio paused. “Is that all you wanted to talk about?”

“No. What do you think about going out for dinner?” Luciano drank from his beer again. He could use the distraction.

“Tonight? Aren’t you eating now?”

“Mmhm. After work. We could get Porter to open the kitchen for us again and eat some bar food. What do you think?”

Porter glared at him from where he was dusting bottles, and Luciano smirked at him. He knew Porter didn’t mind.

“Yes.” Antonio was devoted to his business, but it was rare that he passed up a chance to go out to eat. “I’ll meet you there. We can talk about some of the things I’ve been trying to get through to you.”

“Melanie’s been passing along your messages, so don’t worry about that.”

“She sent me an email update,” Antonio agreed. “But it still doesn’t change the fact that she was vague at best about whether you needed help. If you do, let me know. Losing Giovanni and Riley, even temporarily, has been harder on the shop than I would have liked. We have the funds to hire a temporary assistant manager to help you along if you need it.”

“No need.” Luciano chewed on the inside of his lip thoughtfully. “I’m fine.”

He wasn’t. He really wasn’t. But with any luck, he wouldn’t be staying in Las Vegas for much longer.

There was a big, beautiful world out there for him to explore, and none of it was tainted with the difficult memories that wracked him with grief and kept him awake at night.

* * *

The rest of the day was strained. Melanie did her best to come across as chipper and unaffected by their argument, but Luciano knew she was hurting. Even after apologizing for his rudeness, he felt like he’d done her a disservice.

It was a miracle she hadn’t walked out on the spot.

By the time the end of the day rolled around, Luciano was eager to get out. Thorn Tattoo opened late in the morning and closed late at night, and by the time they locked the doors and started final cleanup, the sun had already long set and a chill had set in. Luciano enjoyed the frostiness of night, which wouldn’t last for much longer with spring so close. Nowhere else in the United States had the same feel. When he left Vegas for good, he was going to miss the desert climate.

Like Antonio had promised, he was waiting at the bar when Luciano arrived after work. Strikingly handsome in his tailored designer suit, brown hair slicked back, Antonio looked every inch the successful businessman he was. He could never understand how his brother managed to look so polished after putting in twelve-to-fourteen hour days but there he was, probably looking as fresh as when he first left the house that morning. When he saw Luciano, he nodded. The two of them walked in silence into the bar and settled at the counter.

Porter was gone, but a busty young woman Luciano didn’t recognize was quick to serve them their drinks. In Vegas, every bartender was glamorous. It was the land of the beautiful and the superficial.

Melanie’s kind of beauty didn’t belong there, and yet Luciano found her all the more stunning for it.

He frowned into his beer and tried to place that thought. It wasn’t like him to think about her in that way. The two years she’d spent working as his assistant had created a buffer he tried not to let slip.

Antonio didn’t give him long to think about it.

“You look… pained.” Antonio slid his credit card across the table, and the bartender started his tab. When Luciano tried to do the same Antonio stopped him. It looked like tonight drinks would be on his older brother. “What’s happening?”

“I’m not happy to be back.” There was no point in denying the truth. Luciano clenched his hands into fists, each of them on either side of his thighs. “It’s harder than I thought it would be. The place where the accident happened is right outside the shop. Every time I go in or out, I have to look away, or all I see is twisted metal.”

For a moment, Antonio said nothing. Their drinks were brought to them, and he sipped at his beer. Luciano didn’t know if he was looking for the right words to say, or if he was trying to drop the subject.

“It’s like when father died,” Antonio said softly. “None of us were ready for it, but sometimes life happens, and not always in ways we want it to.”

“I wasn’t ready to walk down the aisle with dad,” Luciano replied dryly. “It’s a little different, Antonio. I loved Dad, but we all knew it was coming eventually. Cassandra had decades left to live.”

Antonio sipped at his beer and considered it. Luciano saw the gears turning behind his eyes, and he knew his brother was looking for a flaw in his logic or a way to dismantle Luciano’s argument.

Before Antonio could do it, his phone rang. Luciano recognized the distinct trill—it was the same one Antonio had used the last time Luciano was in town.

With a sigh, Antonio took his phone from his pocket and looked at the screen. In the dim light of the bar, his face was bathed in blue light. The smell of alcohol permeated the air, and the smell of stale beer grew stronger as a group of frat boys stormed past the bar, hollering and hooting.

“What the…” Antonio’s lips tightened. “Luciano? Do you know anything about this?”

“About what?” Luciano asked. Antonio turned the screen of the phone toward him, displaying a message from Ben. Ben was one of the newer artists, and sometimes he was cocky enough that he overstepped his boundaries. Riley had taken him under her wing and been training him, and while the kid was talented, he was still a little too new and brash to be mellow.

Shop is out of blue. Not sure why? Can u please make sure 2 order sum? Thnx.

“Out of blue?” Antonio asked. He set the phone down on the bar counter. “We were scheduled to receive a new shipment of ink two days ago. What happened to it?”

Luciano’s stomach twisted. He remembered Melanie had received the shipment while the rest of them worked, and without consulting their stores in the back, he’d told her to send back the extra blue ink they’d sent. The budget allowed them to stock up on color, but Luciano didn’t like keeping around anymore than they needed. The fresher the stuff they used, the better. He never wanted to be caught using old, faded inks like some shops did. Half of his success came from using fresh, high quality products.

It was why Prismatic Inks was courting him, hoping to buy their way onto his Instagram.

“Shit.”

“What shit?” Antonio asked. He picked the phone up and fired back a quick text to Ben. The kid had balls messaging his brother instead of someone in the shop.

“Luciano?”

“I sent the blue ink back,” Luciano murmured. “I thought we were good on it. The last time I checked, we had more than enough, and so I just assumed—”

“God.” Antonio covered his face with his hand. The disappointment in his voice was plain, and Luciano felt worse than ever. “In business, you never assume, Luciano. Your livelihood depends on your pigments. Without ink, you don’t have tattoos. What else are you going to sell? Caricatures?”

“It was an honest mistake, Antonio,” Luciano shot back. He squared his shoulders, not willing to take the abuse. “It wasn’t like I did it on purpose. I’m head artist. I’m working there, too. The mistakes I make are going to affect me.”

“No, Luc, they affect all of us. Gio asked you to come back to help. This isn’t helping.” Antonio’s face was tight, his emotions under lockdown. Luciano wished he’d lighten up and understand that human error happened. It wasn’t a direct sabotage. “If you can’t tattoo, and the rest of the guys can’t tattoo, then how are we supposed to keep our doors open? We pay for our rent through ink. We need to fix this, and we need to fix this now.”

“I’ve got a hookup,” Luciano muttered. Prismatic Ink was eager to get in his pants, and he assumed that if he called in, they’d go as far as to deliver their wares right to Thorn Tattoo’s doors, so long as he floated along some acknowledgments in the public eye. “I’ll make this right.”

“With whose product?” Antonio asked. He stiffened in his chair. “We order from Spectrum because they offer the best of the best. You know better than any of the other artists do how vital ink is for a good tattoo. Spectrum doesn’t have next day shipping, and they likely won’t even ship to us if all we order is a case of blue. What kind of money are you looking to spend on fixing this error?”

What had started as a great evening out was turning into a disaster. Luciano scowled and downed the rest of his beer. Most nights, he enjoyed savoring it, especially after a long day at work. Now, all he wanted to do was get home. “I’ve got it handled, okay?”

“Why am I suspicious that’s the case?” Antonio fixed him with a hard look. “This isn’t the first time something like this has happened, and you haven’t even been here for a month yet, Luciano. The day we ran out of change? The day you gave Mal the day off without clearing his schedule first? The day you came in late and no one else opening had keys?”

“Listen.” Luciano stood. Downing the rest of his beer left him slightly lightheaded, but he didn’t let that deter him from getting up. “I’m doing the best I can in a situation I’m new to. I’ve never had to manage anything before. I’ve only ever been head artist. You’re asking a lot of me, and I’m doing my best, so cut me some slack. I’ll fix it, okay? I always do. Every single one of those problems, I’ve fixed on my own. You haven’t had to lift a finger. So stop bitching.”

His temper was boiling, but he wasn’t about to explode at his brother. Antonio was concerned about the business. If Luciano were in his shoes, he would be as well.

“It’s all going to be sorted out by tomorrow, okay? That’s all. You need to trust me on this one.”

Antonio said nothing for a long moment, and when he spoke, he did so slowly and with consideration. “I’m not comfortable going away for a weekend at this point. I’m sorry, Luciano. I know you’re doing your best, but the shop needs to make sure that at least one of us is present so that everything continues to run smoothly. I can’t run away from my responsibilities because I feel like it. I need to handle the situation with more maturity than that. Perhaps once Giovanni and Riley return.”

Luciano wasn’t going to take it anymore. He shook his head. “I’m done for tonight. I’ll catch you some other time. I wish you’d respect me more as an independent individual who knows what the fuck he’s doing.”

“And I wish you’d be mature enough to admit when you need help,” Antonio replied sourly.

Luciano shook his head and left. He didn’t even say goodbye. It was clear that Antonio didn’t want him there.

He’d show Antonio he was capable and mature. He’d fix Thorn Tattoo’s problems, as any competent manager should.

Luciano wasn’t irresponsible, and he would own up to his own mistakes.