‘Watch your knees, Nicoli!’ shouted Luca, betraying how interested he really was in the scrapping. ‘Don’t worry about your face, bel ragazzo!’

‘No helping!’ yelled Dom, coming at Nic again. This time he was shoved backwards, his shoes squeaking across the wood as he tried to keep from falling.

Felice was entranced by the fight. ‘Nic’s too heavy-footed,’ he muttered to Luca.

‘He’s stronger than Dom,’ Luca countered. ‘Soph, what do you reckon?’ he asked, turning to me. I had been checking the time on my phone, trying to keep the anxiety from fluttering into my throat. It was getting late, the humidity was tortuously high, and I wanted to get home before it broke. I wanted to be out of Cedar Hill before the storm came.

Did he just say Soph?

‘I think Nic will win,’ I said, trying to appear calmer than I felt just then. ‘But that’s mainly because I want Dom to lose.’ I was hoping Nic would knock him flat on his face and then I would point and laugh at him and shout Ha! You suck, Dom Falcone!

‘Watch your knees!’ Luca yelled again. ‘That’s his tactic!’

‘Stai zitto!’ Nic hissed, springing towards Dom and trying to tackle him at the waist. They started grappling with each other and I saw Nic’s head snap up and register me for the first time. He pulled backwards, balancing on the balls of his feet like a boxer.

Luca dipped his head close to mine, and I watched Nic’s face change as he glanced over. ‘Maybe if Dom shakes his head hard enough, he’ll spill enough of his hair gel to trip Nicoli up,’ he muttered. ‘And then I’ll be down a hundred dollars.’

My laugh escaped me in a loud, obnoxious wheeze and I had to clap my hand over my mouth to stop the noise. Nic was looking at us again.

Luca raised two fingers and pointed them at his eyes. ‘Focus, brother!’

It was too late. Dom had rounded on Nic, and was coming at him from the side. He clasped his head underneath his arm and wrestled him to the ground. ‘Tap out!’ shouted Dom, his order flying away with laughter. ‘I got you! I win!’

Nic’s forehead was pressed against the ground. After several fruitless seconds of struggling he tapped out. Cursing, he sprang to his feet and started brushing himself off.

Luca pushed off the wall and stalked towards him, his hands raised in aggravation. ‘What was that? I told you to focus. You’re too distractible.’

‘You were distracting me!’ I was taken aback by how angry Nic was. I knew he had lost, but it was just a game and it wasn’t like he had gotten hurt.

‘Stop acting like a baby,’ said Luca coolly. ‘You lost me a hundred dollars.’

‘Why don’t you fight me, then?’ said Nic, squaring up to him. ‘If you’re so knowledgeable then you’ll beat me.’

Luca waved his request away. ‘Don’t be so childish. We have to go now anyway.’

Nic pushed the matted hair from his eyes. ‘We’ve got time. Since you’re so concerned about your money why don’t you try winning it back? Five hundred dollars for the winner!’

Five hundred dollars. Whoa. I would have fought him for five hundred dollars. I had gotten beaten up by his uncle for much less. And that would go a long way to helping me skip town.

Luca wasn’t biting. ‘You’re so wound up,’ he said. ‘Calm yourself.’

I recognized the look in Nic’s eyes – that blazing defiance. Uh-oh. He kept coming at Luca; it was as if something inside him had been triggered and there was no backing down. ‘You’re too soft, are you? How can you run this family if you can’t even block a punch?’

Dom and Felice were exchanging loaded glances.

‘What is this?’ asked Luca. ‘What’s gotten into you?’

For the briefest second, Nic’s gaze flicked to me. ‘You know what it’s about.’

Luca was shaking his head. ‘Brother, you have gone mad.’

‘Or maybe you’ve gone soft.’

‘Ooooh,’ said Dom, riling them both up. ‘That’s fighting talk. Are you going to let him disrespect you like that, Luca?’

‘Do you ever shut up?’ I snapped at Dom. ‘Seriously. Grow up!’

Dom’s lips smacked together in a disgusting air kiss. ‘This is your fault, bella puttana.’

I flipped him the middle finger. ‘Vaffanculo!’

Felice laughed. ‘The Americano knows Italian!’

The atmosphere didn’t seem so playful any more, thoughts of earlier bets dissolving in the heat of Nic’s aggression. He prodded Luca in the chest. ‘You’re too weak,’ he said. ‘You’re cooped up here with Valentino like some glorified bodyguard. You’ve lost your edge. You’ve been on the sidelines too long.’

Luca stepped back. ‘Careful,’ he warned. ‘You don’t want to go down this road.’

‘I get it,’ said Nic, pushing into his brother’s personal space. ‘You don’t want me to embarrass you.’

He kept going. Dom was chanting at them now and Felice was laughing, his attention glued on the brothers.

Luca snapped.

‘Enough!’ he shouted, and the searing rage surprised us all. He was feral, heaving, dangerous. I pressed my back against the wall, wishing I could rewind time and not have come inside, setting into motion whatever this was. ‘If you say one more word, Nicoli, I’ll knock you out. Non mettermi alla prova!’