Silent Beauty

by BoondocksFever234

When an old face returns to Woodcrest, the memories come back right along with her. But she's not the same girl she was when she left. Find out how a permanently Silent woman endures the raucous world around her. Old friends reunite, new relationships are formed, secrets are revealed and challenges are faced! Rated M for swearing, some drug usage, gruesome imagery and lemon ;)

12. Chapter 12

*slowly pops head out from behind curtain* Hi... sorry for the wait... Like Im for real VERY SORRY! With Covid, working two full-time jobs, and taking care of extended family, I literally DON'T have any time to just sit down by myself and write! Please don't bite my head off!

Shamefully, (and I'm being totally transparent here), I actually had to go back and reread MY OWN STORY a couple times! Smh, thats how out of touch I've been with Silent Beauty and it's just sad smh. I've been struggling with a GIANT writer's block, and the flow of the story was getting clouded to me. But I got it together and I'm back on track!

I decided it was time to give a further backstory about Trisha, hence the reviews I've read that people are seriously starting to dislike her lol. So there is a pretty Lengthy flashback story in this chapter, starting with the phone call she made to her mother. The () () () is where the flashback starts and ends. I wanted you guys to see the upbringing Trisha endured and how it's affected her life thus far.

Warning: There is some Mild Violence contained in this chapter, as well as some citrusy Lemon! Don't like? Skip it.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE BOONDOCKS OR ANY OF AARON MCGRUDER'S CHARACTERS OF THE BOONDOCKS!

---

~~Chapter 12: THANKSGIVING MORNING

"Try me, (try me), Tryyyy meee, (try me)
Darlin' tell me

I need you"

Riley sat alone in the booth of Caesar's recording studio, in the dark, smoking a blunt. He was one of the very few people Caesar let just walk in and burn up tape. The studio has always been a place where Riley could come and get all his frustrations out, usually by rapping about some "gangsta" shit whenever he was around his homies. But on nights like this, when he was alone…

"Try me, (try me), TrYYyyyy MEEeeee, (try me)

And your love, will always be true
OHHhhhhh I nEEEeeeeed yooouuu (I need youuuu)"
Hold me, (hold me), HOooolld Meee, (hold me)
I want you right here… By my side"

He slowly breathed out the smoke as he listened to the recording of his voice singing to his all-time favorite musician, vocalist, and entertainer, James Brown. No seriously, Riley worshiped him. When it came to blues, jazz, r&b, and Funk, Riley could definitely swing, both musically and vocally. He couldn't read music, but he didn't need to. Riley had an inner AND outer ear for it.

He took the original recording and edited out the vocals, and recorded it with his own, including the background singers, which he went back every time and harmonized perfectly! Not a soul outside of his family knew of his talents, not even Cindy or Caesar, and he wanted to keep it that way.

"Hold meeeEEEE, (hold me), HooOOooOOold Meee (hold me),
And your love, we won't hide
Ohhh, OooOOOHH, I Neeeeeed Yooouuu (I need you)"

Damn, his runs sounded good as hell. The smooth, yet raspy tone in his voice brought warmth to his stomach, but it soon churned when he thought about the emotion behind it. As the song broke into the musical interlude, his mind wandered to the reason of his being here tonight, Trisha.

Of course he was still upset with her. Hell, who wouldn't be. He shifted his neck and rolled his shoulders for the hundredth time, and they painfully ached in response. She stepped way far out of bounds with that stunt she pulled, but he felt he stepped even further by some of the incriminating things he said about her and her family. That definitely wasn't a smart move.

"Oohhh, OOOOHHHH *Super high note* I NEEEEEEEeeed YOOoou!(I need you)"

Sometimes, he shocked his own self at the vocal range he was capable of. He chuckled to himself at how corny he would probably look if he were to ever sing his heart out to Trisha like he did here tonight. She would probably straight up laugh in his face.

"Oh, ohhhhh Walk with me (walk with me)

Talk with me (talk with me)
I want you to stop my, heart from crying"

The more he thought about her, the more his insides stirred. The fact that he was high and getting even higher wasn't helping. He kept replaying that feud between them over and over in his head. How she tried apologizing to him and calming him down, but he wouldn't let her. He just blew up on her and threw her background in her face. Now, after it all, he felt like an asshole. He wanted to stay mad at her, but he didn't think he could.

Walk with meee (walk with me)
Talk…. with me (talk with me)
And yooouuurrr loooove, stops my heart from dying
Ohhh I NEE-eee-eeeed Yooooou (I…. neeeed You…Woo…Wooooo)

He in fact, did. He needed her, her eyes, her touch, her voice, her intellect, EVERYTHING about her. He was too wound up in her to remain pissed at her. He's never felt so intense about a woman in all his life. Sure, the sex was out of this world and it was only supposed to be casual at first, with no strings attached. But Riley was attached. He admitted it.

"This shit is so fuckin GAAYY" Riley said to himself as he slowly ran his hands down his face. He was always one to call a nigga "Gay" for even showing the slightest romantic feelings or gestures to a woman. And here he was, secretly recording love songs in the dark for one.

As the song ended, Riley snuffed his blunt in the ashtray, which had four doobies from him smoking earlier. He sat back in in his chair and gave a hard sigh as he pulled out his phone for the first time that whole night. His eyes widened as he realized the time. It was almost 6:00 am!

When he was in his mode, time just naturally flew! He didn't stop to eat, to check the time, to check his messages, nothing. He was always tuned in. Plus, it was an underground studio and it was light-tight. You would never know if it was day or night in there.

He had a couple texts and DMs from some pieces he used to fuck with a while back. But he hasn't been entertaining ANYBODY since he met Trisha. He was actually proud of himself for that. He didn't have to stop talking to other women, but he chose to. Because honestly? Those other girls couldn't compare nor compete with Trisha, in and outside the bedroom. And yet, after all this bullshit, as he sat in his loneliness, he still only wanted her.

He was either whipped, or just flat out crazy.

"Fuck, man…" Riley cursed under his breath. He hesitantly went to his text messages and scrolled past the "thirsties" who had texted him earlier that evening, and selected her name.

When their conversation thread opened up, he scrolled through some of their old messages. Shit, this woman was a freak! And so loving and sincere at the same time. He chuckled at how every new conversation, at some point she would ask him if he has eaten yet. Was that seriously all this woman ever thought about, was food?!

It was the small things, more specifically that one thing, she did that made him feel so damn strongly about her. What he wouldn't give for a plate of her baked ziti right now. His stomach growled loudly at the thought.

He stubbornly smacked his lips as he selected the text box and began typing.

'Trisha.' That's all. His thumb hovered above the 'Send' button, until he just shook his head and pressed down. He turned his screen off and stuffed his phone back in his pocket, but then pulled out a small hard drive. He pushed it in the slot of the console and downloaded his recording. After doing so, he went back and deleted all previous recordings up until he started.

He would pay Caesar back next time, not that he would trip anyway. But he wasn't about to let these niggas just stumble upon his pity-party music. No way in hell.

Riley made sure to clean up after himself, and turn everything off before walking out of the studio and engaging the alarm with the code Caesar shared with him. He cursed as he sat inside Dorothy, with his evaporated breath pouring into the windshield. He started her up and waited for the engine to warm up with the heat blasting before starting his drive back home.

He had the munchies like a bitch! And he knew he wasn't going to last until Thanksgiving dinner. So he stopped at McDonald's drive-thru and got him two sausage-egg-cheese biscuits, eating them on the way home.

As he parked in his driveway, he pulled out his phone and checked the message he sent, and it still only said 'Delivered.' It was nearing 7:00 am, so she probably wasn't up yet. 'Chill, nigga. Damn!' Riley thought to himself.

Then again, if she was like him, she'll just read a message through the notifications. Or she could have already blocked him. He was seriously overthinking this way too much.

He sighed defeatedly as he pushed the auto-start button, turning off the engine, and got out with his drive-thru trash, locking the doors twice until he heard a honk, and walked inside. He was met with Huey coming upstairs from the basement, probably just getting done with his work-out. His sweat-clad T-shirt clung to his body as he dried his face with a sweat-towel.

"And where the hell have you been?" Huey asked, slightly out of breath. He noted Riley's blood-shot red, baggy, glossed-over eyes, the pungent smell of cannabis, and his hunched-over posture. His brother hadn't slept a wink.

"The studio…" Riley grumbled as he continued up the stairs. Huey eyed him, but shook his head as he went into the kitchen to get a glass of water. After he finished, he went back upstairs and made a detour to Riley's room. He pushed his door open and found him already passed out on his bed. He walked across his room and sat on the edge of his desk. He lifted up some notebook pages, which looked to have written lyrics on them in Riley's handwriting, and placed them back down.

"What happened this time?" Huey knowingly asked. Riley only stayed overnight at Caesar's studio when he was deeply troubled about something, or someone, which Huey only needed one wild guess. And that's when Riley naturally let his talent flow. Huey never understood why it took his brother getting all riled up just to express his craft. Well, 'rile' was in his name after all.

Riley stirred in his bed, still not facing Huey.

"None of yo damn business, nigga," Riley muttered stubbornly. Huey rolled his eyes and patiently waited a few seconds until Riley released an exasperated sigh and sat up. He reached into his pocket, and tossed his hard-drive to him. Huey caught it easily and plugged it into the side of Riley's laptop. The media-playback window popped up automatically and the audio began to play through the speakers.

Huey smirked and shook his head at the ground. He knew it, as if the James Brown posters on the walls and open CD cases scattered on his desk and nightstand weren't automatic indicators. His eyebrows furrowed as he sat back against the desk with his hands in his pockets and nodded his head to the bluesy beat, listening to his brother's flawless runs and harmonies.

"You know what Greta would say don't you?" Huey asked during the second verse. Riley rolled his eyes and smacked his lips.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah! 'He who sings frightens away his ills.' I know, I know I know! She's only said it to us a million damn times!" Riley said annoyingly. "Ya'll lil' boyysss SANG, Ya'll lil' booyyyss SANG.' Always making us give live concerts like trained monkeys!"

"I don't seem to remember her making us do anything," Huey said crossing his arms. "You were always more than happy to hop in front of an audience. And if we were in Chicago with the fam right now, you would still be hogging the mic and don't act like you wouldn't." Riley smacked his lips again and laid back down.

Here, in cultural-desert Woodcrest, Riley and Huey (Yes, even Huey) were two lost voices in the wind. There wasn't an ounce of soul anywhere in this white-washed neighborhood for them to feed off of. But in Chicago, they could sing as freely and wildly as they wanted, right at home with the rest of their musical family.

Their great-aunt, Greta Freeman, who was Robert's older second cousin, was basically the Queen Bee in their family, who shared her knowledge and love for music with all of her kinfolk. She was the conductor, director, maestro and supervisor all warped into one. Whatever she wanted to hear you sing or play, you sang it or played it without a word of objection, and you had better not miss a single note.

"Look, what we do with the fam is different. Down there, we got a reputation. We a singin' and playin' peoples. That's just what we do. But for me, it's all for show. It ain't in me no mo'.." Riley half-lied looking at the floor, right before they heard Riley's voice on the playback, effortlessly hitting that high note with a crazy, raspy vibrato.

"Like hell it's not," Huey said a little strongly. Riley looked straight up at him. "Greta would slap you silly if she heard you say some bullshit like that. And I ought to too. When are you going to get your head out of your ass and realize you have a gift, Riley?"

"Nigga, you forget I'm not the only singer in this family! Gahhh damn! How many times I gotta hear this?! Why I gotta be singled out? All cuz of a damn cover song?!" Riley shouted as he swung at the air.

"Nah, because you carry the passion for it, more than all our cousins, aunts and uncles, and they know it too. But you're the only one who refuses to acknowledge it. You used to sing until you're voice went hoarse, and even then, you still made it sound good." Huey complimented sincerely.

"Yeah, well that was before I found out about…" Riley stopped. They shared a look, along with a long pause. They never liked bringing them up, because when they did, shit got real and not in a good way. Riley broke the staring contest and shook his head. "Man, fuck it." Riley got up from his bed and snatched his hard drive out of the console, causing the music to stop, and tossed it carelessly into his desk drawer before slamming it shut. "Wish ya'll never told me."

Huey felt his chest cave in. So there it was. Now, he finally understood.

"You're not them, Riley," Huey said lowly.

"But their blood runs through our veins, Huey…. The same weakness. They was just as passionate about their art as ya'll try to say I am, and look where it got them…" Riley said coldly. Huey slowly closed his eyes and Riley could see the anger building up in him, but he didn't care. Hell, that's how he honestly felt.

He didn't remember their folks, and part of him was glad he didn't. They may have passed down their shared talents to him and his brother, but it was the most toxic, bittersweet gift to remember them by and he didn't want anything to do with it. "I refuse to end up like them." Riley shifted his stare to an empty space ahead of him.

"So, then what? You're just going to continue hiding behind shitty rap music, with meaningless lyrics that have no heart, no soul, and no depth whatsoever?" Huey said bitterly. "That makes absolutely no damn sense, Riley. You just scared!"

"Nigga ain't nobody scared! Damn, will you hop off my nuts?! Why can't I just sing a song without everybody tryna be my damn life counselor? It's just music!" Riley's voice croaked on that last sentence. Huey scoffed sarcastically.

"Even you can't convince yourself of that to be true, Riley. You're not fooling me or anyone else. You're only lying to yourself. If you want to live your life in a lie and reduce yourself to singing in the dark, that's your choice." Huey stepped towards him threateningly. "But don't… you… dare stand there and slander our parents for their mistakes that you were too young to even remember! They made their choices, they paid the price, and that's the end of it!"

Riley tightened his upper-lip as he bit down on his bottom one and began tapping his heel, the hurt and frustration building up and ready to boil over. Huey could see his brother losing grip, so he just placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Look… you know I don't do this holiday shit. But, instead of forsaking the people who aren't in our lives, we should just… take today to be grateful for the ones who are." The words tasted like vinegar in Huey's mouth, but it's what his brother really needed to hear at the moment.

Riley held onto his words with full grasp. For once, he couldn't agree more with his older brother. Trisha was a soul worth holding onto, and he knew now more than ever that he had to get her back.

"Like you and Mariah?" Riley smirked, trying to turn the attention from him. "Is that why you bein' all Mr. Sensitivity right now? She must be rubbin' off on you," he teased followed by his usual cackle.

And just like that, the moment was gone. Huey's scowl returned as he roughly shoved his brother into the wall and made his way to the door.

'Oh she be rubbin' off on me all right,' Huey thought with an inward smirk. The fact that he was officially in a new relationship still hadn't quite dawned on him yet, but it was still a refreshing thought nonetheless. Just as he was about to walk out, he stopped and turned around.

"Take it from her, Riley. If it's one thing you definitely should be thankful for, is your voice. Better count your blessings before it's too late," Huey said over his shoulder. He saw Riley's face completely drop and his eyes widen.

That hit different. A twinge of guilt, and even fear came over Riley. Jazmine had to fight tooth and nail to regain her life back, all while being permanently, vocally paralyzed. Riley, on the other hand, didn't know what in the world he would do with himself if he lost his voice. He literally couldn't even fathom not being able to sing a single note again. That really did shake him up a bit. It sent shivers down his spine just thinking about it.

"Huey?"

"Yeah?" Huey stopped and turned again.

"….you still a bitch…" Riley smirked. Huey just chuckled through his nose and shook his head as he left Riley's room and headed to the bathroom for a shower.

When he left, Riley fell back onto his bed with a loud FLOP! He checked his phone again and still no reply. He smacked his lips again and tossed it to his side. He really wanted to talk to her before Thanksgiving dinner. He wasn't sure if she would even come! He really hoped she would.

'This that gay shit bruh…' Riley thought again.

---

Trisha finished flat-ironing the last few strands of her hair. She adjusted the middle part on the top of her head, making sure it was neat. She was currently in front of her bathroom mirror, since her vanity mirror was no longer usable. She just shook her head at her reflection. How could she let herself lose her temper like that? She didn't even recognize herself from last night. Part of her wanted to hurt him even more than what she already did. He wanted to act like he knew something about her father, she was going to show him just who her father was.

---

"Ciao?" She heard an older woman speak tiredly. "Ahh-delaide? Sei tu, figlia mia?"

"Mami?" Trisha sniffled before choking back another sob at the sound of her mother's voice. "Ho davvero incasinato. Dov'e Papi?"

"Non è in casa in questo momento, tesoro, (He's not at home right now, darling)" Rosette Romano said in a hinting tone. "È fuori con tuo fratello e tuo zio. (He's out with your brother and uncles)" Trisha just closed her eyes and felt her common sense return to her mind. Of course he wasn't home. He was hardly ever home at nights, and she knew why.

A chill coursed through her body as she remembered how she came to find out the true nature of her father and the 'extended' business he was involved in, and how it altered her life and the ones she loved, forever.

() () ()

Fifteen year-old Trisha sat on the concrete front porch of her family's luxurious townhouse in Newark, New Jersey, drawing in her notebook as she waited for her older brother, eighteen year-old Luciano Romano, to come out.

They had already missed the school bus. Actually, Trisha was already ready and was sitting right where she was when it pulled up. But she wasn't allowed to get on without her older brother, hence her father's orders. She had motioned for the bus driver to drive on and continued to wait on her pretty-boy of a brother to get his ass out of the house.

She doodled away as she listened to her parents quarrel about something from upstairs. Her parents had two volumes: Loud and LOUDER. Even through his deaf ears, her father would have to turn down his hearing aids when they argued. Trisha used to think that people avoided their house because of the constant Italian profanities that could be heard blaring from the windowsills. She learned that day how that wasn't the case.

Luciano finally came out, still combing his gelled, dark, wavy hair, with his shirt still slightly unbuttoned and his backpack hanging off his right shoulder.

"Took you long enough!" Trisha put up her notebook and pencils and stuffed them in her backpack. "I have enough tardies on my attendance already! I'm going to be removed from the National Junior Honor's Society because of you!"

"Rilassarsi, Trisha! (Chill out!) " Luciano shouted annoyingly as he put his comb in his back pocket and fixed his shirt. "God, you're worse than Ma! We'll catch the transit. We'll still make it in time."

Then they heard a honk and they turned to the street. Their "Uncle" Nicholas Bolovio, pulled up to the curb in his icy blue 1958 Cadillac Series 62 with a white convertible top. He was their father's partner, as well as his unofficial interpreter since he was the only one outside of their family who could sign as fluently as them. He was also the Underboss of their father's "extended" family, which was why they called him, along with numerous other family friends "uncle."

"Heeyy Luci! Trish! How's it going kiddos?"

"Hey Uncle Nic!" Trisha waved with a smile. She had a secret crush on his seventeen-year old son, Nicholas Bolovio Jr, who she called Nicky. He and Luciano have been best friends since they were infants. They all grew up together, but he went to a private school way uptown. Sometimes he came over to help Luciano and their father fix things in the house, he and his father would come over for Sunday dinner, other times he and Luciano would get into some mischief, dragging Trisha along with them as to cover for them. One would think they were really cousins. Trisha didn't think Nicky ever noticed her outside of that, but she still admired him from a distance.

"Good, Uncle Nic. What are you doing here so early?" Luciano asked.

"Dov'è il tuo vecchio? Ha detto che starà aspettando fuori. (Where's your old man? He said he's gonna be waiting outside)" He half-avoided and half-answered the question.

"Vuoi che vada a prenderlo? (You want me to go get him?)" Luciano started to step back inside until their mother came out with rollers in her red hair, wrapped up in a hair net, no make up on and a lit cigarette in her mouth. She was short, but very lean, had dark green eyes and tan but freckled skin. She was definitely a "looker", but not so much on early mornings like this.

"Luci! What are you two still doing here?! Get youse and ya sister to school now before the school calls child services on me!" Rosette shooed them off of the porch.

"Alright, alright Ma! Gesù! (Jesus!)" Luciano rolled his eyes. Non sarebbe la prima volta…(Wouldn't be the first time)" Luciano mumbled.

"Cosa dici ragazzo?! (What did you say boy?!)" Rosette shouted taking the cigarette out of her mouth. But her attention turned to her husband coming out the house, looking clean as a whistle. "'And you! Don't forget, we're going to your sisters tonight for dinner,'" she signed as she spoke loud enough for it to resonate through his hearing aids. "'You promised to bring a bottle of Masseto, and don't forget to get my yellow dress from the cleaners!'"

"Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba baaaahhhh!" Augusto Romano exhausted in a harsh tone. He's taken speech classes since he was a boy, so his articulation was very coherent. But his tone was slightly gruff. "It's non-stop! Jesus don't you ever get tired of hearing yourself?!" He said walking down the porch steps and making his way to the car. Rosette just smirked and shook her head as she took a puff from her cigarette. Her husband was such a sarcastic ass.

"Pops!" Luciano waved at their father. 'Think you can get Uncle Nic to drop us off at school?' he signed.

'Not today, son. Got business to take care of,' Augusto signed back. "You get your sister to school safe and don't be giving those teachers no lip, you hear me, Luciano? And you!" He said aloud and pointed to Trisha. Trisha sarcastically looked side to side and cutely pointed at herself. 'Yeah, you! Come give your old man a kiss,' He signed again. Trisha skipped over and kissed her father on his cleanly-shaven cheek. 'Alright. Go on, sweetheart.' Augusto motioned for her to go with her brother and he got in the car and they drove off.

"Bye, Ma!" Trisha called out as she and Luciano crossed the street.

"Yeah, alright. Be good." Rosette uncaringly waved her hand off as she went back up the porch and into the house.

As they turned the corner from their block and their house was out of sight, Luciano suddenly stopped walking fast. Trisha looked back and rolled her eyes.

"Will you come on?!" she rushed. She turned back around and saw how the public transit bus was approaching the bus stop down the street. "Luci! We're gonna miss it!"

"We're not going to school today," he said nonchalantly as he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket's inside pocket.

"What are you talking about?!" She saw the bus pulling off. "LUCI!"

"It's fine! I already had a friend call the school acting as Mom, saying we caught a stomach bug," He popped a square in his mouth and lit it. Trisha just looked at him like he had lobsters coming out of his ears.

He could get any girl in the whole northeast to do as his will, with his light brown eyes, his wavy dark hair, his tall, muscular frame, his smooth talk, and his cool demeanor. It's a wonder how she wasn't an aunt by now.

"Senti, ho fatto un esame di storia oggi e non ero preparato. Sarò pronto lunedì! Guarda questo come un weekend di tre giorni, va bene? (Look, I had a history exam today and I wasn't prepared. I'm doing the retake on Monday so I'll be more prepared by then! Just look at this as a three-day weekend alright?) And you better not say NOTHING to Ma and Pops!"

"Allora perchè ciedere a Papi un passaggio se non avevi intenzione di andare comunque? (So why ask Papi for a ride if you weren't planning on going anyway?)" Trisha retorted as she crossed her arms.

"Had to make it seem more real, Trish. I knew he wasn't going to drive us. Honestly, don't you ever learn nothin'?" Luciano flicked the ash from his cigarette before breathing out smoke. Trisha just scoffed and shook her head.

They walked a couple more blocks, heading into the busy part of the city. They got to an outdoors grocery pub, where they saw Nicholas Jr. coming from the opposite way. Trisha immediately blushed and tried to quickly fluff her hair.

"Aye, Luci! What's going on, cugino? (Cousin)" he walked up and they did their signature handshake. "Ade?" He nodded at Trisha. He nicknamed her a shorter version of her first-middle name that her parents called her by.

"Hi, Nicky," Trisha smiled widely. She was the only one he allowed to call him that. He was slowly starting to build muscle on his lean body, and it seemed like he would never stop growing! He was at least six-feet tall now. His green eyes hid behind his circular spectacles and his broad jaw and chin had scruff coming in. When he ran his hand through his shoulder-length, sandy-brown hair, she nearly fainted. "I see my brother has dragged you into yet another one of his antics. Did you have a "special" friend to call in for you too?" She asked snidely.

"Well, she is a friend, ma niente di speciale, (but nothing special)" Nicky smirked. Trisha blushed even harder at the ground. "Hey man, let me get one of those." Luciano poked out a cigarette from the case for him and handed him the lighter. "Uncle Ralph owes my dad a couple games down at the ring. Trying to get a couple games in? He won't snitch."

"Uncle" Ralphie Cuzamano owned a popular bowling rink, and was a close friend to their fathers. Trisha often wondered why these men who she's hardly seen nor spoken a word to, were always giving her and her family free stuff. That was another lesson she learned that day.

"Yeah, cuz. That's cool… if it's alright with Ms. Goody Two-Shoes over here," Luciano nodded over towards his sister. She flicked her fingers under her chin at him.

Suddenly, a black car came blazing down the street, the bass booming from the Spanish music blaring from the speakers. Then, it slowed down when it reached the block they were on. The tinted windows were down and the men inside had their arms drooped out of them. When they got closer, by the black bandanas and tattoos on their faces, they recognized it was a Mexican gang from the south side of town. Nicky instinctively held his arm out in front of Trisha and stepped in front of her. The two eldest Italian teenagers had a whole stare off with the occupants inside the car until they peeled off again, the engine roaring down the street.

"Hanno un po 'di nervosismo, (They got some fucking nerve)" Nicky growled. "Ti dico cosa, she avessimo le nostre fottute gocce, noi… (Tell you what, if we had our fucking stripes, we…)"

"Nichola!" Luciano objected loudly in his Italian accent. He looked back at Trisha, who looked shaken to the bone, then back at him. "Sai che è vietato parlare di quella merda in pubblico. E non di fronte a mia sorella. (You know it's forbidden to talk about that shit in public. And not in front of my sister)"

"You're right, Cuz. My fault… Scusate, (Sorry) Ade," Nicky softly stroked her arm. Trisha shook her head, and waved him off, letting him know it was fine. "You okay?" He squeezed her shoulder soothingly. She nodded as she peered into those dazzling green eyes.

"Let's stop at Du'Frey's so we can get some grub on the way," Luciano popped another cigarette in his mouth and led the way.

Trisha eventually put her earphones in and trailed behind the two boys. She's always been the third wheel with them, so she was pretty used to it. Luciano looked back to make sure she was tuned out before talking to his little "cousin."

"You know you need to be more careful where you talk about the business, Nick. If the wrong ears ever heard you, you know what that could do to the family," Luciano spoke sternly.

"Non ti preoccupare, Luci. Non ne parlo mai con nessuno, Mano destra per l'uomo! E ora hai diciotto anni, cugino! Sapete cosa significa!" (Don't worry, Luci. I never talk about it with anyone, right hand to the Man! And you're eighteen now, cuz! You know what that means!)

"Certo che lo faccio. (Of course I do) Sono abbastanza grande per entrare in un lavoro da cui non riesco a licenziarmi o a essere licenziato…Terminato solo. (I'm old enough to enter a job I can't quit or be dismissed from… Only terminated)" He said grimly.

"Hey, man, you can't think like that. You're a Romano. I'm a Bolovio. We come from the original families, from the other side! Your Uncle Gus' boy, cuz. You're in good hands. You'll be fine," Nicky patted him on the back.

"Thanks, cuz. In another year or so, you'll be in my shoes, and who knows, you'll be fetching me my drinks before you get made," Luciano smirked.

"Si, nei tuoi sogni, stupido, (Yeah, in your dreams, dumbass)" Nicky elbowed him and they got into a light tussle. Trisha rolled her eyes at them as they continued to walk through the city.

When they turned on the street of Du'Frey's, Luciano suddenly yanked Nicky by the collar and back around the corner. He held his hand up for Trisha to stop.

"Aye! What the hell, cuz?" Nicky protested.

"Luci! What's wrong?" Trisha tugged on his sleeve.

"Shhh! That was your Pops car!" Luciano said to Nicky.

"What?!" Nicky traded places with him and peeked around the corner of the brick building. "Oh shit, it is! Man, if he catches me out of school I'm DEAD!"

"You mean, WE'RE dead!" Trisha corrected. "Your dad picked up our dad before we headed out! You guys, let's go before they see us!"

Then CRASH! A man came flying out of the glass window of Du'Frey's. All three of them peered around the corner like a Scooby-Doo flick: Luciano on the bottom, Nicky in the middle, and Trisha on top. It was Dudley Du'Frey, the owner of the Italian sub-sandwich store.

"Holy SHIT!" Nicky exclaimed. Then the two leaders of the Romano and Bolovio family came out the front door. They picked the nearly-unconscious Dudley up by his shirt and slammed him against a neighboring car, punching him in the face and kneeing him in the gut repeatedly. Trisha watched in utter terror, but when she looked over at Luciano and Nicky, they looked more than thrilled at the sight of their fathers in action.

"You're two months late, motherfucker. Why do you insist on insulting me, huuuhh?!" Augusto shouted followed by a strong backhand to Dudley's face, making him fall back to the ground. He looked completely different from when he first left the house. He didn't have his suit jacket on. And his button-down was fully open, showing his white wife-beater. Augusto and Nicholas Sr. took turns kicking him on either side of his ribs. Then, Nicholas pulled Dudley's wallet from his back pocket and took all the cash out. He sneered sarcastically.

"Ottana? (Eighty?)… All the fucking customers we put into your FUCKING *kick* SHITHOLE *kick* of a RESTAURANT *kick* and all you got for us is eighty dollars?! Stronzo del cazzo! (Fucking asshole)" Nicholas threw the wallet back down at him before spitting on him. Augusto knelt down to face level with him and gripped his collar with both hands.

"You got 24 hours. Do not make a fool out of me," He growled shoving him back down. They started walking away, leaving a groaning Dudley on the glass-scattered ground. Until Nicholas came back and gave him a final kick, making Dudley scream in agony. Everyone just stood around watching, like this was a normal thing. The two gangsters got back in Nicholas' car and peeled off in the teenagers' direction.

"Shit!" They all exclaimed as they sprinted behind a dumpster in a nearby alleyway, just in time before their fathers could see them.

"Gesù," Nicky whispered. "Pensare che saremo noi tra qualche anno, vero? (To think, that will be us in a few years, yeah?)" Luciano only smirked, almost devilishly until he looked over at his tear-eyed little sister again.

"Fuck… Trish, you okay sis?" He held her face in his hands, but she was in a far away daze. She's never seen her father like that, never! It almost traumatized her if she hadn't remembered she was just giving her father a kiss on the cheek an hour ago.

"I'm leaving…" Trisha got up and made her way out of the alley.

"Hold on, Ade! Where are you?.." Nicky reached out for her.

"Get the fuck off me!" She screeched. Nicky almost took twenty-paces back. She never thought she would take that tone with him. But in the last hour, she's seen too much, heard too much. How has she been this oblivious this entire time? It seemed that all of the men in her life who she held dear has been shown in a different light. A gruesome, patriarchal, violent light.

"Hey! Dove pensi di andare? Riporta qui il tuo culo magro! (Where do you think you're going? Get your skinny ass back here!) Luciano yelled so loud it made her stop in her tracks. He grabbed her arm and pulled her back. "What are you gonna do,huh? Go tell the whole neighborhood what you saw? Rat out your own flesh and blood?!" Trisha shook her head frantically as tears poured down her cheeks. Nicky just sighed through his nose and hung his head with his hands in his pockets. "Good! Because I'm only going to tell you this one time! You become a witness, you pay for it with your LIFE! Otherwise, you RESPECT the silent code, you understand me!?" Trisha didn't know what in the world he was talking about, but she nodded her head nonetheless. "Blood makes you related."

"Loyalty makes you Family," Nicky chimed in. They both stared at her, waiting for her to finish.

"And you never… go against… the Family," Trisha said between sniffles.

For the first time, she finally understood the weight of those words and what those words meant. Something told her she just entered a world she never knew existed, and there was no getting out of it. Luciano released her arm and grabbed both of her shoulders, bringing her into a hug.

"I'm sorry, Trish…" he whispered. Trisha's nose snarled in both anger and hurt, but for some reason she found herself hugging her brother back. "You'll understand one day."

---

Three years later, eighteen year-old Trisha was helping her mother clean up the kitchen after just having dinner, with the only consumers being them two and Luciano. It was a hot and humid evening in late August. She would be attending NYU next week. She was already packed for the most part, had all her dormitory items stacked up in her closet, and was registered for her first semester of classes. She was ready to get the hell OUT of here!

Trisha finished wiping the countertops down and resetting the placemats on the dinner table. When she came back to the kitchen, she found her mother leaned over the kitchen sink, deep in thought. Rosette had been growing more and more unusually quiet for the past several months. Trisha could tell something was weighing heavily on her, and part of her already knew what it was.

Luciano has been tagging along with their father over the past few years. Sometimes, he came home with bruises on his knuckles. Other times he came back drunk, smelling like cheap perfume, with wads of cash in his pockets and shoes. And the most frightening, he came home in blood-smeared clothes, the blood not being his own. When they did laundry, she didn't ask her mother any questions. They threw the bloody clothes in a metal trash can and discreetly burned them at night. Rosette was used to this routine, sadly, and Trisha was reluctantly starting to as well.

After that day, when she, Luciano and Nicholas Jr. all played hooky, everything started to unravel and become clearer to Trisha. With each passing day, Trisha learned more and more about her family than she cared for. More events occurred to where Trisha couldn't blame her naivety anymore. It was all out in the open from that point on.

She came to realize that she was born into an organized-crime empire. Even though she's not supposed to acknowledge it, how could she not? Her friends, her neighbors, the whole community knew exactly who she was and who her family was affiliated with.

Like, when the first time FBI agents flooded their home with a search warrant to search for any "incriminating evidence" that could serve as a means to arrest mob boss Augusto Romano. Of course they didn't find anything, for Augusto would never be so foolish as to stash any evidence of his business in his family home. However, the invasion of privacy was more than nerve-wrecking. Rosette nearly had a row with a couple agents who busted a few expensive dishes in her kitchen and demanded that they clean it up.

"I sincerely apologize Mrs. Romano. We will of course replace it….How much would you say those dishes cost again?" One of the officers asked as he took out his notepad. Rosette interpreted for Augusto and they both looked at the man up and down and laughed in his face. Did this guy really think they were stupid?

"MA! My computer! I have an essay due tomorrow!" Trisha complained as she watched two agents stomp downstairs with her desktop and monitor and head outside.

"HO! Where the hell you think you're going with my PS4?!" Luciano hollered at a different agent, followed by another who also carried a case of all of Luciano's games. "Not a SINGLE SCRATCH better be on my shit when you bring it back!"

"Luci!..." Rosette scolded sternly. "Entrambi, zitti! (Both of you, quiet!) Is that really necessary, officer? What do the kids have to do with this?"

"Luciano Romano right?" The officer redirected, ignoring Rosette's question. Rosette scoffed offensively as she continued to sign for her husband, who was growing more and more impatient by the second.

"Who's askin'?" Luciano asked bitterly as he tilted his head.

"You wouldn't happen to recall floating around Percy's Peridot store on Spencer Blvd., February 5th around 11:15 pm would you? Amongst acquaintances Nicholas Bolovio Jr., Benny Cuzamano, and Anthony Fonzetti, sons of Nicholas Bolovio Sr., Ralphie Cuzamano, and Aemon Fonzetti respectively, who are also coincidently acquaintances of your father's. Percy Reynolds has been missing since that day, and it says here you were absent from school the rest of that week, and same goes for the other three. Mind telling me what you four were doing that night?" The officer flipped a new page in his notepad and held his pen up to it, waiting for his answer.

Trisha felt her stomach drop. That was one of the specific nights she remembered having to toss and burn her brother's bloody clothes. And the fact that Nicky was there and may have been part of it, made Trisha feel nauseous.

Luciano glared at the officer and looked over at his father, who glared even deadlier back at him. Great… he wasn't going to hear the end of this. Augusto trained his son better than this, to avoid letting the feds lurk too closely, only meeting in designated safe areas, timing the meetings and "hits" carefully, and never meeting in the same place more than once in a time period. But Augusto has also trained his son fairly well in dealings with the feds, such as interrogations like this.

"Detective Grasso, huh?" Luciano looked down at the officer's name badge. He was significantly shorter than Luciano, barely standing at the height of his chin.

"Yeah? Care to answer to question?" Detective Grasso asked more intently.

"Hmph… 'Grasso,'" Luciano scoffed as he signed so that his father could understand, followed by a very nasty and vulgar comment in Italian, comparing the English translation of the federal agent's last name and the size of Grasso's mother's twat. Trisha accidentally sputtered a raspberry before clamping her hand over her mouth.

"HEY! YOUR mother's, you little shit!" Detective Grasso stepped to him, forgetting all about protocol and ready to bash the young man's brains in, while Luciano just smirked evilly. He wasn't expecting him to understand, but it was even funnier that he did.

"EXCUSE ME!?" Rosette screeched.

"THE FUCK YOU JUST SAY?!" Augusto growled in his hoarse voice as he stepped between his son and snatched the agent's collar. He could read lips just fine enough to know that this bastard had insulted his wife.

"Whoa, whoa WHOA! Everyone calm down! Hey, HEY! ENOUGH!" Another agent came and separated everyone.

There were several more search warrants after that, coursing through her entire high school career.

Trisha had never seen her father get arrested, never seen him in handcuffs or behind bars, and she was more than thankful for that. Augusto Romano was probably more protected than the damn president of the United States, with his countless lawyers, doctors, police officers and even judges on his payroll, the man was nearly untouchable.

Until one weekend evening, two days before her high school graduation, Trisha was hosting a Girls Night for her and her senior gal-friends on their last full week as high school students before becoming official grads. They were all partying in the living room with their surrounding pillows, blankets and sleeping bags, watching music videos on the television, dancing, eating junk food, and a few girls even snuck some bottles over. Trisha made sure that Luciano was locked upstairs in his room all night. Leave it to him to try and sneak down here and run game on her friends. They were having a pretty lit time, until a round of powerful knocks and bangs erupted from the front door.

Everyone stopped and looked back at the door, which was given a new round of pounds and knocks. Then they all looked at Trisha, who didn't look at all brand new to the sound of impending intrusion.

"Girls! Stay where you are! Don't say anything!" Rosette came running downstairs in her robe and looked through the peephole to see Detective Grasso smack in the middle, with a ton of federal agents behind him.

As if he could see her through the peephole as well, he held up a freshly printed paper with the state's seal, and the words "Warrant of Arrest" in big bold letters at the top, with the county sheriff and supreme judge's signatures on the bottom. Rosette stood back for a second shocked, and completely enraged that this was happening right now. There was another round of hard knocks on their door, making all of them jump again.

"Mr. & Mrs. Romano? We require entry immediately, failure to comply will result in forced entrance in two minutes," Detective Grasso said from the other side of the door.

"Jesus…" Rosette muttered as she shook her head at the ground. Grasso was the most persistent and prominent detective when it came to anything having to deal with Augusto Romano. He's been trying to bring their family down for years and from the looks of it, he was pretty close to doing so.

"Ma?" Trisha asked, starting to approach her from her friends, who looked frozen where they stood.

"Ho detto di restare lì! (I said stay there!)" Rosette shouted sternly, making all the girls jump back. "Not a one of youse say a word, understand?" Rosette eyed all of them and they all nodded without a second glance. Rosette tightened the belt on her robe and swung the door open. "What do you want?" She asked unpleasantly, glaring at all the men on her porch.

"Mrs. Romano, we have a warrant for your husband's arrest," Detective Grasso handed her the paper, and barged in, followed by the rest of the agents. "Ah! Are we… interrupting something?" He hinted into the front room where the girls were. Trisha cringed so hard at his tone.

"Don't get cute, Grasso! What is the meaning of this?! My daughter is graduating in two days. You think you can pick a better day to persecute him?...Persecute us?" She quickly corrected.

"Check upstairs men, bring him down," Grasso snapped at them to continue upstairs, before snatching the warrant back, folding it and putting it in his vest.

"No! Ma! What's going on?!" Trisha cried.

"Che cosa ho detto, Adelaide?! (What did I say, Adelaide?!)" Rosette hollered. Trisha's friends started holding her back comfortingly, but she shook them off of her when she heard a loud and violent commotion start up upstairs.

"No! NO! HOLD UP! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?! GET THE FUCK OFF MY POPS!" She heard Luciano through the ceiling hollering at the officers, followed by threatening Italian profanities. "DAD! NAHH DAD! FUCK THAT! I DON'T GIVE A FUCK!" Then there was a bang and a crash, followed by a bunch of loud rustling and yelling, and then the sound of a body slamming.

"THAT COUNTS FOR ASSAULT AND BATTERY ON A FEDERAL AGENT, OBSTRUCTING A FEDERAL ORDER, ALONG WITH RESISTING ARREST! LUCIANO ROMANO YOU ARE UNDER ARREST!" An officer yelled from upstairs. They placed him in handcuffs behind his back, lifted him from the floor and began violently dragging him down the stairs as he pulled and thrashed about.

"What are you doing?! Not my son! No! Stop it! NOT MY SON!" Rosette screeched as she ran halfway up the stairs and began smacking and pounding at the officers with her fists to let Luciano go.

"Back off! Or do you want to be arrested too?!" Grasso pulled her away and shoved her back.

"YO GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME! AYE! DON'T YOU BE PUTTIN' YOUR HANDS ON MY MOTHA! PUSSY-FOOTED MOTHERFUCKERS! GET THE FUCK OFF ME!" Luciano shouted so loud, the roof of their home shook. Trisha cried for her brother as tears fell down her face, but her friends still held her back.

Then her father was the next to be escorted downstairs in his pajamas and slippers, but he was calm, collected and even had a smirk on his face, like this was the biggest joke ever told to him in the history of the earth. When they reached the bottom step, they turned Augusto around, and placed his hands behind his back.

Augusto was still sarcastically chuckling as he flipped two birds at the officer locking the handcuffs on his hands. The officer locked the handcuffs even tighter in response, but Augusto didn't flinch. Then, they turned him around and stood the father and son up next to each other as Detective Grasso informed them of the crimes they are being arrested for and read them their Miranda Rights.

"Speak up, Grasso! Can't hear a word ya' sayin'!" Augusto hollered, followed by chuckles from his son.

"Must've been stuck too long in that fat, lion's den of a snatch your mother has," Luciano chuckled. Grasso stopped in the middle of reciting their rights and slowly approached Luciano with a curious look on his face. Luciano smirked even more, obviously unthreatened by this leprechaun's presence.

Then, without warning, Grasso uppercutted Luciano directly in the gut, making him double over and groan and cough, followed by a strong backhand to the face, with a still-closed fist. The girls all gasped in commotion, helplessly watching the scene before them.

"Got something else to say, Romano?" Grasso growled in his face. Luciano just chuckled again and spit a long bloody stream of saliva onto the officer's leather shoes.

"*ptew* Lascio l'ultima parola al tuo Creatore (I'll leave the last word for your Creator)" Luciano said just below a whisper, followed by a sinister grin that made Officer Grasso's face turn sour.

"Get 'em outta here," Grasso tilted his head and the officers dragged the father and son through the foyer and out the front door.

"Papi! PAPI!" Trisha screamed as if he could hear her. She ran and stopped at the front door.

"There's nothing we can do right now, honey!" Rosette cradled her daughters shoulders as they watched their boys being escorted off their property. "They'll be home soon, Adelaide… they will."

"Yeah, go ahead! Have a good time while you can boys! Last time I was placed in cuffs was in '79! Made bail so fast, my manicotti was still hot when I got home! You pigs ain't squatting worth shit!" they heard Augusto's raucous voice shouting as they threw him in the back of a police van.

Trisha has seen enough. She turned from the doorway and fled upstairs.

"Trisha! Wait!" One of her friends called after her.

"JUST GO HOME!" Trisha screeched as she ran into her bedroom, slamming her door shut and plopping down on her bed, smothering her face in her panda pillow-pet as she released long, silent sobs.

She hated this. She hated ALL of this! The humiliation, the violence, the hostility, the feeling of instability and constant paranoia that her family is being watched and everything could be taken from her in a second. How could her father be so nonchalant about all this? How could her mother put up with this for so long? Was there something missing that Trisha simply wasn't getting? Was this meant to be her life? Did her parents not see how badly this was affecting her?

She knew it sounded conceited, for she wasn't the one who just got hauled off in the paddy wagon. But Goddamnit, just once she would like to enjoy a moment for herself and not have it ruined by the goddamned Mafia or the Feds trying to hunt them down. She wanted a normal life, she CRAVED a normal life, but part of her knew that she would never get it.

She grasped at that fact when Monday morning, the day of her graduation, Augusto and Luciano walked through the front door of their home like nothing happened, except the fresh shiner on Luciano's handsome face. Rosette exhausted a cry of relief as she ran through the foyer and brought her two boys in for a big group hug. She kissed and fussed over them, making sure they were alright from head to toe.

Thanks to Augusto's lawyers and luckily, the judge that was appointed to their case, the charges were dropped on account of Officer Grasso breaking protocol and assaulting a detained suspect, failing to read them their Miranda rights. The submitted "evidence" that granted the arrest warrant turned out to be faulty, nothing that could physically be traced back to Augusto. The investigation for Percy Reynolds was still ongoing, but no physical evidence has been found to arrest Luciano or his acquaintances either, so both were in the clear.

Trisha slowly came down the stairs in her baby blue dress and silver heels at the sound of her mother's overjoyed voice. Her hair was her natural hair color, a solid mocha brown and wave-pressed, cascading flawlessly down her shoulders and back. She had her graduation gown draped over her arm, while holding her designed graduation cap.

Augusto looked up and almost teared up at the sight of his grown daughter. How humiliated and ashamed he was, stealing the joy and luster of her weekend because of the lifestyle and decisions he's made. He could see the reluctance in her eyes and it pained him even further.

"Adelaide…" Augusto let out in a painful whisper. He could see her eyes water as she stopped halfway down the stairs.

"Don't just stand there, Trish. Come give ya brother a hug," Luciano said softly as he held his arms open. Normally, Trisha would sprint into her brother's arms without a second thought. His hugs were almost therapeutic, no matter how upset she was. But this time, after what she saw, how mean, nasty and hostile her brother was, how could she ever feel the same again?

Trisha shook her head slowly at them as more tears flooded her eyes. She gave a short sob before turning around and running back up the stairs, carelessly dropping her cap and gown before running back to her room and slamming her door.

Rosette eventually consoled her, and got her out of the room so they could make the ceremony on time. Once they got there, Trisha found that she really should have just stayed home. All her classmates just stared at her and gossiped about her, in front of her, as they waited for the ceremony to begin. No doubt her "friends" spilled the beans to everyone in school in just that short day and a half. Now, she really couldn't focus on her own graduation. Everyone else was focused on her and her damn family!

Even when she walked through the auditorium in a single file line with her classmates, she didn't try looking into the crowd to find her family who were trying to get her attention and take pictures. When she walked the stage and received her diploma, she refused to look up and smile for the school cameraman who took the individual pictures at the end of the stage.

You want to know what cameras she did notice? The scattered, high-surveillance stock cameras being operated by undercover/not-so-undercover FBI detectives hidden in the audience, incessantly and noisily clicking away. Not at her, but at the only Mob boss sitting in the whole auditorium. And if Trisha noticed, then she was sure everyone else in the auditorium noticed. She sunk into her seat even lower, not even bothering to throw her graduation cap that she spent nearly two weeks designing, into the air with her classmates as a sign of farewell. She was utterly and completely DONE with this.

It took a couple weeks, but she eventually forgave her father and brother. She was leaving this fall after all, and she didn't want to leave on bad terms. Her family would be leaving too, come November, to live in the newly built mansion on Augusto's family's estate in Venice, Italy. Trisha strongly wished she could go with them, but she was more focused on her education and starting a career, starting a new LIFE, away from her father's influences. It was a necessary separation from her family, something she was prepared to endure, for a fresh start to a new future.

When the phone rang, twenty one year-old Luciano came sprinting down the stairs, sounding like an avalanche.

"Don't worry, Ma! I got it!" he shouted as he approached the phone. Before picking it up, he took a deep breath and calmed himself down. "Yeah?" he answered.

"Si signore, si…. Si signore… Yeap!" Luciano cheerily hung up and sprinted right back upstairs. Rosette slowly sighed through her nose as she peeled away from the kitchen sink. She went into the living room and turned on the television before sitting down on the couch and lighting a cigarette. She could only remain silent as she watched her only son enter the business that would claim his life, both alive and in death.

Trisha decided to go upstairs and find out what got Luciano all excited. When she walked into his room, he had a tan suit with gold stitching laid out, with a crisp, white button-down and a golden striped tie all already ironed, as well as golden cuff-links and two matching rings. When he turned from his closet, he had two pairs of leather shoes in his hands.

"Which ones?" Luciano asked her. Trisha pointed to the brown ones.

"But with the brown laces," Trisha took them from him and sat down on his desk chair as she began unlacing and re-lacing with brown leather shoe-strings. He went into his adjoining bathroom and began to quickly shave with his electric clippers and comb through his hair. "And who was that on the phone?"

"Uncle Nic. Said he's gonna come pick me up in twenty minutes, so I should get ready…," he turned around and smirked at her, lifting his eyebrows in a hinting manner. "…and to look sharp." Trisha's eyes widened.

"You think… tonight might be the night?" Trisha nervously asked.

"What else could it be? Pops didn't think I noticed his hints, but I did! I've been a soldier going on three years now, more like five if you include me helping out with their poker nights. Now all of a sudden I'm being told to look sharp? AND it's August! Same month Pops was made at my age back in Venice! I knew it was coming. I just knew it." He finished getting dressed and Trisha solemnly helped him with his cuff links. "Hey, cosa c'è con la faccia lunga? (What's with the long face?)"

"Luci, non ti rendi conto che più in alto ti alzi, più suit un bersaglio? (Don't you realize that the higher you rise, the more of a target you are?) What if...?"

"It's a risk we all take in this family, Trish," Luciano interrupted. "I been in the game this long and I'm still here aren't I?"

"At the cost of what? Of who?" Trisha retorted handing him his golden watch. She wasn't stupid and she wished everyone would quit acting like she was. Somebody obviously donated their kneecaps for the golden jewelry he was wearing.

"Of those who disrespect the family," Luciano answered with a frown as he clasped his watch around his wrist.

"Like Grasso? Was he an 'enemy'? Or was he just doing his job?" Trisha threw back at him. Luciano gave her a warning glare.

"Watch it, Trish…" he muttered. He didn't admit to it, but he didn't deny it either.

Just under a month ago, Detective Grasso was found dead. More like pieces of Detective Grasso were found all around New Jersey, but not his full body, rendering him dead. She knew her father too well to know that his reaction to the news wasn't genuine. He and Luciano pretended to be 'oh-so shocked', but Trisha knew… she knew. If they could get away with murdering a federal officer, there was no telling what else they could get away with, and it was well apparent that nothing would change in the dynamic of this family.

"Don't patronize me now, please? We've been over this a million times. I'm not gonna be some Wise-guy facing the front lines anymore. I may be more of a target, but more protection comes with being a Made Man. Don't worry about me little sis," He brought her in and kissed her on the forehead. "If anything, I should be more worried about you going to school over there with those Yanks! You just keep focused and bring home that degree alright?"

Trisha sighed and nodded. They heard a honk outside, and Trisha finished fixing his tie. He quickly trotted downstairs and to the living room, adjusting the hem of his jacket. He bent down to kiss his mother on the cheek, who's expression never left the TV.

"Love you, Ma" he said softly.

"Neanche lontanamente quanto ti amo, figliolo, (Nowhere near as much as I love you, son)" she muttered almost painfully. "Go on," She shooed him away with her cigarette hand as she simply shook her head.

She knew where he was headed and what was happening tonight. Part of her wanted to hate her husband for dragging their only son into this lifestyle, for exposing her sweet boy to such a hostile environment… for involving him in his infidelities. She struggled so hard to refrain from resenting her own son for covering for his father, but she was no more surprised at Luciano's changing behavior than she was when she first married Augusto Romano.

This was the lifestyle she chose too. She knew good and well who she was marrying, what she was marrying into, and what came with it. She could have left numerous times, but she stayed, and let her children grow up in it. She was just as guilty as her husband was, and that's what was eating her up.

Luciano walked past the staircase, giving Trisha a final look of contentment before he opened the door and skipped down the porch steps, where Uncle Nic already had the passenger door open for him. Trisha watched them get in the convertible and drive off before closing the door.

Then she immediately felt her cell phone vibrate in her pocket. It was a text message and her eyes brightened when she saw who it was from.

From Nicky:
Be ready in 10 min. Coming to get u

Trisha pursed her lips and went back upstairs to fix up her hair and throw on a better skirt. Despite the chaotic world they were growing into, Trisha and Nicky had also grown extra close over the years. Once Luciano hit the streets, the two sort-of just "clicked" and started spending more time together.

Whenever she felt troubled about something involving her father or brother, Nicky was her antidote. He took her mind off of those things just long enough to make her feel better again, by taking her to the movies, or out to get ice cream, the arcade center, or sometimes just walking and talking.

Luciano obviously noticed this and surprisingly, he didn't mind it at all. Nicky was his most trusted friend, and he knew Nicky would never step out of bounds with his younger sister. They weren't "dating" so to speak, but still, he was glad that it was Nicky and not some chummy douchebag he's had to deal with in these streets. Ironically, Luciano even ended up being the third-wheel sometimes when the three of them were hanging out. He felt slightly salty about that, but whatever.

The doorbell rang and Trisha quickly grabbed her purse and headed downstairs. When she opened the door, there he stood with his hair pulled back into a man-bun, and his white polo shirt neatly tucked into his grey shorts, held up with a designer belt, and white C&L Era 59s on his feet . Over the years, his muscles kept appearing and growing more and more on his body until he was perfectly built, and his facial hair was trimmed to just a small beard and thin mustache. His rimless, rectangular glasses sat perfectly on his nose, giving him a more sophisticated look.

As he's always done since he started taking her out, he pulled out a single, thornless, pink rose from behind his back and handed it to her. Trisha smirked and held it up to her nose, breathing in its sweet fragrance.

"If I had guessed, I'd say someone's garden is looking like a foliage patch right now," Trisha said opening the door wider to let him in.

"You think that low of me?" Nicky asked smirking down at her.

"I'm just kidding," Trisha smiled. She put the rose in a vase on one of foyer tables, along with the sixteen other pink roses he's given her. Some of them were wilting, but she couldn't bring herself to throw them out. They were such beautiful and excellent reminders of what a lucky girl she was.

"Ehhh, divertiti adesso, Ahhdelaide, (Enjoy it now, Adelaide) Prima ti danno le rose, poi ti danno le emicranie. (First they're giving you roses, then they're giving you migraines.)" Rosette grumbled as she passed them and headed upstairs.

"Molto bello vederti, Zia Rosette, (Very nice seeing you, Aunt Rosette)" Nicky smoothly called up to her. She nonchalantly waved her hand behind her as she continued up the steps.

"I'll be back later, Ma!" Trisha yelled throwing her purse over her shoulder and leading them out of the house.

He opened the passenger door of his silver 2014 Mercedes-Benz GLK-Class for her, and eased her in before jogging around the front to the driver's side and getting in. It was his first big purchase after so many months of saving, from the obvious, and she could tell how proud he was of it, even though he tried to hide it.

Although, he did his part in keeping Trisha's mind off of her troubles, Nicky was the same story. After he turned eighteen, he was right along with Luciano, learning the ways of the business. It gave her anxiety, thinking of Nicky in that way, but he's never acted as such with her. He may have been the son of the Underboss, but he acted different than the rest of them: more calm, more smooth, more practical. It wasn't seen as weakness, but as a way to make sure that no one ever crossed him, because he could definitely turn impractical in a split second.

It was silent, at first, as they drove into the night, except for Mario Lanza who was singing on the Bluetooth.

"He's gonna be fine, Ade" Nicky said breaking the silence. "He's a smart man, and he knows what he's doing. He's well-liked, and he is respected."

"But is he feared?..." Trisha retorted. Nicky looked over at her for a second, as if he didn't expect her to even know the difference.

"He is Augusto Romano's son, and he has proven himself to be so." Nicky said sternly. Trisha nervously fiddled with the ends of her skirt. "Look, Ade. He's a Made Man after tonight. He'll be untouchable, so don't worry, alright?"

"So with a prick of a finger and the burning of a Saint, that automatically makes him untouchable?" Trisha asked shaking her head. He couldn't fool her. None of them could. She knew what the hell being "made" meant and it definitely wasn't something that granted them immortality.

"You know you're too smart for your own good, Ade. But no, it doesn't. It just marks your official entry into the Family. Plus, he's going to be the youngest Capo this family has ever had. It's a big deal."

"So, why aren't you there celebrating with him?" She asked spitefully. She knew her brother was probably tonsils-deep into a stripper's cleavage right now. Nicky caught her tone and only smirked.

"It's a "Stripes Only" party," he said shrugging his shoulders. "Plus," he slipped his hand across the armrest and rested it on her thigh. "I'd much rather be spending time with you right now, help take your mind off things." Trisha's heart skipped a beat at the feel of his strong, calloused hands. It stirred a warmth in her that she's never felt before. When he realized that she hadn't moved his hand, he caressed her smooth skin there for the rest of the drive.

Fifteen minutes later, they were in Kearny, New Jersey, pulling up to the entrance of a drive-in theatre. Nicky paid the fee to get in and drove to a secluded area still in front of the billboard screen. They were showing a throwback double-feature of "Back to the Future" and "The Goonies". Trisha turned his radio to FM and adjusted it to reach the signal of the drive-in's station. Nicky reached behind her seat and grabbed a brown paper bag, pulling out a bottle of Cabernet.

"So it's that kind of night?" Trisha asked sitting back in her seat.

"Just keeping it interesting," he answered as he expertly popped the cork with his pocket knife that had a built-in corkscrew.

Well into the first movie, they were laughing and joking as they sipped away from the bottle. They quoted lines along with the film and Nicky even pulled the common "stretch" move where he let his arm fall behind the back of her seat.

After it ended, the bottle was down to its minimum and they were down to their last sober nerve. Nicky had lifted his glasses to the top of his head and loosened the top buttons of his polo. The wine was getting him increasingly hot, and the way the evening light reflected off his female companion's smooth, tan legs under her mini-skirt definitely wasn't helping.

"Come ti senti? (How are you feeling?)" Nicky asked as he looked at her with a glossed-over gaze.

"Abbastanza bene. (Pretty, damn good) Thanks for this Nicky," Trisha said sitting back with her head against the headrest, where his hand still resided. She always thanked him, no matter what. It was almost routine.

"Don't mention it, Ade. Just thought I'd show you a good time," Nicky said smoothly, twirling a strand of her hair.

'Aren't you always?' Trisha signed. Nicky sat there with a confused look on his face. Trisha just shook her head.

"è meglio intensificare il gioco del segno (You better step your sign game up)" Trisha spoke sternly. Nicky's eyebrows rose, and Trisha looked at him like "yeah, you heard me!"

"Says the American Sign Language major," Nicky retorted.

"And I won't always be there to 'interpret' what Augusto Romano signs, nor will Luci, or your Pops. If he signs something, he expects to be understood. Don't make him voice out when he doesn't have to. You'll be getting a completely different message." Trisha said as she simply stared ahead at the classic drive-in concession stand cartoons. Nicky only smirked and eyed the side of her face in awe.

He has watched her transform in a way no one else has. She went from the naïve, innocent "girl next door", to a versatile, clever, observant, breathtakingly BEAUTIFUL young woman. She had blossomed into, for a lack of better words, a bombshell! And she had a brain on her with a mindfulness as sharp and witty as a bloodhound. She spoke bluntly, but true. She wouldn't have had to bring up her father, if she knew that he was really slacking. And that nearly drove his desire for her through the roof. He was either stupid or crazy for even daring to get involved with the Boss' daughter. But there was no other woman in the world who he could be this transparent with, who could tell him what he needed to hear, and actually know what she was talking about. Uncle Gus could make his life quite uncomfortable to say the least, but he didn't care. Call him a complete and utter fool.

"Well then maybe you need to teach me," Nicky said turning his body and resting his chiseled arm on the steering wheel.

Trisha smirked and faced her upper body to him as well. She brought her right hand up to her chest, and made the letter 'C', with her fingers touching the center of her chest. Nicky's eyes followed her hand and obviously couldn't help but stare on at her modest rack behind it. He was enjoying this lesson so far.

Then she traced her fingers up and down the center of her chest, to her upper stomach, and back up again. Just silently tracing as she smirked devilishly at him with her peering brown saucers.

"Mi arrendo (I give up)" Nicky chuckled, trying to grasp onto any sort of mental and physical control.

"Ho fame (I'm hungry)" Trisha giggled. "You definitely need to know that one."

"When are we NEVER hungry?... Italians" Nicky chuckled as he shook his head and adjusted his glasses and polo shirt. He took a few bills from his wallet and unlocked his door before getting out. "Be right back." Then he headed towards the concession stand.

Trisha released a content sigh as she watched him walk away, lighting him a cigarette while he was at it. She quickly got out her lip gloss from her purse and opened the sun-visor where the mirror lights automatically turned on. She fixed her mascara as well and plumped up her fully-grown bosom.

Wow, things were getting real intense between them. Safe to say, Nicky was the only boy Trisha was ever comfortable around outside of her brother. He just had a way with her, that normal guy friends didn't express to their lady friends. As they grew up, he had went from just hanging around the house with her, to actually courting her and making her feel appreciated. It wasn't a relationship, but still, no other guy dared to even look her way, and she could understand why. His presence and demeanor around her spoke for itself. She wondered what it would actually be like to date her good friend Nicholas Bolovio Jr. It probably wouldn't be any different than what they were doing now.

She couldn't even recall Nicky ever dating anybody. With them being so close, she would hope that he'd at least tell her if he was. Or she would have surely noticed something, let alone died of a broken heart. But that must have meant that he never really… been with a woman? She'd never have the nerve to ask him. He was always the more reserved type, but it was "those" types, Trisha's heard, that were usually the most…skillful in bed. Trisha found herself starting to get a little hot too at the thought of it.

That damn wine was messing with her mind now. She felt her cheeks flush as she began popping her blouse. She rolled down the window to let in some fresh air and noticed that the theatre was beginning to show the second movie. And just as she was getting her cool back…

"Evening, gorgeous," some blonde-haired dude and his similar-looking friend approached her window. Trisha pretended not to hear them and just sank into her seat. "What? Don't be shy. You alone tonight?"

"None of your business, Jack," Trisha said in her full Jersey accent. "Piss off…"

"Ouuu-hoo-hoo, fiesty one," his friend nudged him as they took a step closer.

"Come on sweetness. I got the bed of my truck all tricked out, and got some cold ones sitting in the cooler. All I need is a warm body to keep me company, if you know what I'm saying," the first guy said, leaning his arm on the top of her window.

"LOOK! My friend is going to be back in a minute, and if you two micks don't quit bothering me, he's gonna give you some serious problems," Trisha said reaching for the maize inside her purse.

"Seems like he's the one with a serious problem, leaving a gem such as yourself all alone," The guy chuckled as he licked his lips.

"And what makes you think she's alone?" Nicky said from behind them, holding two folded up paper plates with a single slice of pepperoni pizza in them. The two guys stood back from the truck and Trisha sighed in relief. He slowly stepped towards his suv, and between her window and the two guys, who backed off carefully. Trisha instinctively took the plates from him through the window, switching her eyes from the two guys and the back of Nicky's head.

"What was that you were saying, stronzo (motherfucker)? I see you talkin' sweet to my girl, hmm? What was that about keepin' her warm, huh Figlio di puttana?" He said in a threatening tone Trisha didn't know he possessed.

"Look at this tough guy," the friend pointed up at him and scoffed with the blonder guy.

"Yo sweetness, after you get done with ya Goombah friend here, come and see what it's like to be with a real man." The blonde guy nodded at her. Trisha saw Nicky's fists ball up to where his knuckles cracked.

"Alright, I'm going to give you both five seconds to step away, before someone gets clipped," he removed his glasses and started taking off his watch.

"Awh yeah? By who, Greaser?" The friend scoffed.

"Nicholas Bolovio the Second, you fuckin' Mick," He lifted up his polo, revealing his strap. Trisha sunk even deeper into her seat. Both the young men's eyes widened in complete fear, not at the gun, but at the sound of his name. "You wanna keep warm? I got some heat for you." He grabbed the handle, but the guys were already nearly tripping over themselves as they started running away .

"Yo, let's go man! The fuck you messin' around with him for?! This dude's fucking crazy!" The blonde yelled to his friend as they ran. Nicky lowered his polo and shook his head. He put his glasses and watch back on and turned around to look at Trisha, who looked shocked but had the faintest smirk on her lips.

It's not an altercation one should be praised for, but damn if she wasn't completely turned on right now. He walked to his side and got back in, slamming the door a little too hard.

"I'm sorry you had to see that, Ade," he snarled in his same angry tone, still trying to calm down. She could see he was still battling within himself to not go back and put a serious hurting on those two. Trisha gently placed her hand on his shoulder, rubbing it softly as she handed him his slice of pizza.

"It's okay, Nicky, really. Thank you for defending me. I wouldn't have expected you to react any different. They had it coming," she took a bite out of her thin-crusted pepperoni slice.

"Yeah, but I don't like you seeing me like that. I brought you out to take your mind off of these things, and it seems I kind of ruined that." He folded up his slice like a sandwich and took two large bites.

"You haven't ruined anything, Nicky. You did what you had to do. Tonight would only have been ruined had you not done something" she looked him up and down and giggled. Nicky scoffed and shook his head. She was definitely not the fifteen year old girl he once knew.

'The Goonies' opening scene with the jail break and the police chase began to play and they finished their slices as they continued to watch. Then, a scene where the the kids were venturing out on their quest and came to squeaking halt after hearing two gunshots coming from a nearby restaurant, drew Trisha's attention to something else.

"Nicky?" Trisha asked breaking away from the movie. He looked at her. "Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Of course."

"…Hai mai?.. (Have you ever?)..." she hesitated. She involuntarily looked down at his waistband, where his gun still resided. Nicky followed her gaze and his eyes widened in realization. He couldn't believe she was asking him this right now.

"Sai che non dovrei parlarne, Ade" (You know I'm not supposed to talk about that, Ade)" he said grimly, as he turned his head and looked back at the movie. Trisha cringed at his tone. Just from that response, she kind of already knew the answer.

"Onestamente, chi ho intenzione di dire, Nicky? (Honestly, who am I going to tell, Nicky?) Non devi sempre stare in guardia con me. Non ti giudicherò mai. (You don't always have to be on your guard with me. I won't ever judge you.)" She signed the holy cross and mumbled the holy trinity. "Non ho quel potere. (I don't have that power) Puoi fidarti di me. (You can trust me)"

His eyes softened at her like she was a saint. But he turned his attention back to the movie again, where Mouth was "mouthing off" to the mother of the Fratelli's and nearly got his tongue chopped off.

"Would you look at me any different if I told you the truth?" Nicky asked peering out the side of his eye.

"No," she said plainly. Nicky rolled up the windows and grabbed the steering wheel tightly with both hands, staring at the Mercedes symbol in the center.

"Four," was all he said. Trisha took a deep breath and tried hiding the shakiness of it. But she quickly regained her composure when Nicky looked over at her.

"Do you regret.. what you've done?" Trisha asked, trying her best to sound normal.

"Regret?" Nicky gave her a serious look. "It's not about regret, Ade. It's not about feeling remorse. There's doing what needs to be done, when it's supposed to be done. If a man can't uphold his oath, or pay back his debts, or goes against the family, he is an enemy. I'm a soldier, Ade, in a war that never ends. I've entered a game where everyone involved knows the stakes and if I'm going to accept those stakes, I've got to do certain things. It's business." She slowly nodded her head and they continued watching the movie, but they weren't really paying attention to it.

She should have been scared of him. She should've been quivering with complete fright, sitting next to someone who could kill so easily, same goes for her brother, and for her father. Nicky's grown up to be a hustler, a gangster, a killer. But that's not who he was on the inside, not to her, not with her. It would be wrong of her to categorize him with all of what she's grown up to know. But it still shook her to the core.

"So you and Luci are business partners above all else, now?" Trisha asked.

"We're family above all else, Ade. That's the point. He's my superior now. After tonight, I'm going to be reporting to my best friend, your brother. He's a Captain, he's got territory now, he's got connections across state lines, he has followers and he's a top-earner. You know, we used to combine our collections to barely make just enough to cover the fee for Uncle Roscoe. And we made sure NEVER to be late with that crazy motherfucker's payments."

Now, that man, Trisha was definitely afraid of. She's heard more than enough about his reputation around Jersey. Roscoe was Uncle Nicholas' right hand man and a captain as well. He was vicious, impulsive, and mean! The total opposite of Luciano and Nicky. She's only seen him at a very few family gatherings over the years, but even still, she made sure to steer clear of him.

"And now, Luci's the one who gets to take a percentage of my earnings right out of my pocket, like we weren't just struggling and earning together as equals." Nicky continued. "You think that's gonna be easy for me or him? Of course not! But it doesn't matter. Like I said before, it's business." Trisha gently nodded her head, but was still deep in thought. They definitely weren't kids anymore. They were in the real world now.

"When do you think you'll earn your stripes?" Trisha asked her final question. She saw Nicky lower his eyes and slightly hang his head.

"Not anytime soon. Luciano's the eldest son in our generation, so he was destined to be made first. It might be a while before we can expand to new territory, and recruit some new wise guys to run the streets around it, and when that time comes, I guess I'll be the next in line," he shrugged. "It just sucks that I won't be running the streets with him no more, you know? Gotta keep working hard and earning for myself now. But until then," he reached over and caressed her thigh again. "I guess you got me all to yourself."

A smile slowly crept onto her lips as she placed her hand on his and gave it a gentle squeeze. They continued watching the movie, where Chunk had flagged down a truck in the neck of the woods, unknowingly reporting and berating the Fratelli family to the mystery man, who, after turning on the dash light, revealed himself to be Jake Fratelli. As Chunk backed away in terror, chanting in Hebrew, Jake Fratelli mockingly began singing an alto Italian selection.

Both young adults busted out laughing as Chunk was viciously hauled away by the other Fratelli brother, while Jake continued to sing, and was thrown into the trunk of the truck, along with the same dead corpse he was cooped up in the freezer with hours earlier.

"Why do I feel like that could be you and Luci?" Trisha laughed, shaking her head.

"I've always loved a good alto piece," Nicky chuckled.

"And Luci is terrible with kids… Perfect," Trisha sarcastically clapped her hands. They both laughed some more before Nicky changed the subject.

"You figure out if you're staying here or on campus yet?" he asked inquisitively.

"I'm staying on campus. I gotta get out of here, Nicky. I need new scenery, new faces. I need to explore on my own for a change, you know?" Nicky nodded.

"I can definitely understand that. I'm gonna miss you, Ade," Nicky said sincerely.

"You know the campus is just half an hour away right? I'll still be coming home for Sunday dinners, to see everybody, maybe steal some food and toilet paper from the house. Don't worry, you'll still be seeing me. I'm not going away across the country," Trisha chuckled.

"You may as well be," Nicky said lowly. Trisha's smile slightly faded. There was a pause between them where they just kept eye contact. Trisha grew tired of this. They've been subtle long enough.

"Can I ask you something else, Nicky?" Trisha asked. Nicky nodded once.

"Do you.. see me as just a friend? Like, do you think there's.. something between us?" Trisha timidly asked looking down at her lap. She could sense his stunned expression and that caused her to panic. "Because I heard you call me 'your girl' to those assholes, and… I don't know, I just thought that maybe you were trying to over exaggerate to get them to back off, but if it's not what I think it is, I…"

"Trisha," Nicky interrupted her. She nearly choked in the middle of her babbling at the sound of her name coming from his lips. He's NEVER called her by her first name, but why did it sound so… alluring coming from him? "I've always seen you as more than a friend. Not as a little sister, not as a cousin, but someone who I have come to really, REALLY like and adore."

"Really?" She whispered. Nicky chuckled through his nose at her repetitive response but nodded his head as he took her hand. Trisha felt her heartbeat fluctuating.

"When I was sticking up for you from those clowns, I meant what I said. You're my girl, Trisha. You always have been in my eyes. And if I haven't made that clear to you, then.." he opened the armrest between them and pulled out a rectangular, black, velvet box and handed it to her. Her eyes widened. "I was going to give you this closer to when you were leaving, but I think now is a more appropriate time. Just a little going-away gift to remember me by." Trisha gave him a curious smile as she sat up straighter in her seat.

"Oh, Nicky you didn't have to get me anyth-…" she opened the box and her mouth fell open. It was a solid gold, woven bracelet with a name plate that had 'Adelaide-Giovanna' engraved in cursive on it and two real, small, diamonds studded on either side. The 'Ade' part was in double-font and there was another engraving in cursive on the inner-side, that read, 'Bella, Dentro e Fuori' (Beautiful, Inside and Out). "Nicky…" she let out breathlessly, tracing the bracelet with her finger.

"Just so those Yanks over there don't get any ideas," Nicky took the bracelet out for her and latched it around her left wrist. She was still stuck looking at it, completely at a loss for words. "Ade?... you not like it or something?"

"I LOVE IT!" Trisha squealed as she reached over the armrest and hugged him tightly around the neck. Nicky jumped in response but quickly regained himself and hugged her just as snug around her waist. "Thank you so much!"

"Anything for you, Trisha," he whispered in his baritone voice. At the sound of her first name again, Trisha nuzzled into him even more, keeping their embrace locked tight. He smelled so good, and his arms around her made her feel weak, yet secure at the same time.

Without thinking, she turned her head and kissed him on the cheek, something she's never done before. He turned his head as well at the feel of her soft lips, and then they were face-to-face, their noses just barely touching. She didn't remember his eyes being so green, or his stare being so dominant, or his lips looking so delectable. The way he chewed on his bottom lip as he looked down at hers made a stirring of feelings suddenly come over her.

She didn't know who moved first, but next thing she knew, her lips were pressed against his. Their kiss started out warm, soft and sensual. They parted briefly, taking a second to collect the wave of emotions that came with that single kiss. Only to come together again in a far more urgent, desperate lip-lock as his tongue slid into her mouth and was fueled further by her eager acceptance as she cupped his jaw, bringing him closer to her. The game quickly escalated.

Their passionate kiss was accented with soft moans and low grunts and a distinct hunger that seemed almost primal that filled the car, something that seemed forbidden and yet so sweet and pure that it was impossible to not be pulled in and become intoxicated by its presence.

Nicky was quickly losing grip on any control as he found himself exploring Trisha's soft body. His hands slipped over her blouse and gently cupped and caressed her breasts, which he found fit perfectly in his hands.

"Nicholahh," she moaned his full Italian name on his lips, getting him even more riled up. She ran her hands up his chest, around his shoulders and up the back of his head, entangling her fingers in his hair, and ended up pulling his bun straight out, making it cascade down past his shoulders. He ran his hands down her sides, feeling the curvature of her frame and ran them back up inside her shirt, running his fingers along her smooth, flat stomach, and around to her back, releasing the clasp of her bra.

They broke apart, gasping for air. Trisha's hooded eyes bore a hungry, longing gaze of desire and Nicky… his stare was pure predatory. She's never seen him look at her like this, and it excited her to no end. They shared a look and they both thought the same thing.

Trisha kicked off her sandals and scooted over the armrest and climbed into the back seats. Nicky eyed her with a smirk as she patted the leather seat beside her. He took his glasses off and removed his strap from his waistband, placing them in his glovebox and locking it before getting out. Trisha giggled as he subtly looked around his car, trying not to be too obvious as he opened the back door and scooted in beside her, locking the doors behind him. Thank God he had gotten his windows tinted last week.

Not wanting to wait any longer, Trisha climbed on top of him, straddling him as they continued their passionate make-out session. She didn't know what was coming over her, but for all she knew, all those years of pent up feelings and energy was now bursting out from within her, and it was the same for him.

Unbeknownst to Trisha, he was more than "modestly" experienced to say the least, and not in the way people would misinterpret. He just knew what he was doing and he's had plenty of time to think about what he would pleasurably do to his sweet, precious Trisha Romano should the day come. Now that it has, he still couldn't grasp it. He was really doing this with the girl of his dreams!

He rose her blouse and bra up and off her body and marveled at the sight before him.

"Wow," was all he could muster. He's seen a woman's body before, but none as angelic, exquisite, and perfect as the woman before him. He brought his hands up her sides and was about to touch her breasts again before she shyly knocked his hand away

"No fair," Trisha whined. She rose his polo above his head, and she gulped hard at the sight of his body. She was pretty sure he could feel her moisten on his lap. He had a large cross tattoo on his left pec, with a crown of thorns hanging from the top, a single drop of blood dripping from it. There was a banner wrapped around the cross, reading 'Il sangue di Cristo' (The blood of Christ). Well Lord, forgive her for what she was about to do.

He smirked at her reaction as he brought her in close and kissed her with such a hunger, Trisha almost couldn't keep up. He squeezed her against him, letting their naked torsos touch and they both groaned at the feeling of the other's warm flesh. Trisha melted in his grasp, losing herself in the might of his muscles. He occupied his mouth on her neck, earning a sigh-like whimper from her as he sucked tenderly, then traced his tongue lower, past her collarbone and latched on to her right nipple, while massaging her other breast with his palm. She shivered even more when she felt his other hand run up her thighs and up her skirt, squeezing the flesh of her bare ass.

"Non sai da quanto tempo avrei voluto farlo, Trisha (You don't know how long I've wanted to do this, Trisha.)" He whispered as he moved his hand to her womanhood, and applied light pressure. She released a high-pitched moan as she fell into his chest. "Sei sicuro di volero ? (Are you sure you want to?)"

"Non sono mai stato più sicuro in vita mia (I've never been more sure in my life)" Trisha responded by reaching down and unbuckling his belt and unzipping his shorts and slipping her hand inside, running her hand along his hardened length. He released a low grunt as he sealed his lips around her neck again and began sucking.

They worked each other's privates for a while, moving against each other, eliciting the steaming passion between them more and more as they accelerated their movements. Before they could reach a peak, they came to a slow halt.

"But… you're dad…," he whispered. Trisha rolled her eyes before sealing their lips together again and giggling naughtily on his mouth. How could he seriously be thinking about her father right now? In a way she understood though. She may have been eighteen, hell, she could have even been forty, Augusto Romano will haunt you like the impending doom when it came to his daughter. But what Augusto Romano failed to realize, was that she wasn't "Daddy's Little Girl" anymore.

"Spero meglio che non lo scopra (Better hope he doesn't find out)" Trisha smirked. Nicky returned it and without warning, he switched their position and gently laid her down on the seats, positioning himself between her legs as he half-knelt on the suv floor. She smirked up at him as he brought his hands down her sides and hooked his fingers around the elastic of her skirt. She lifted her hips and he effortlessly stripped her bare. His mouth watered at the sight of her, her smooth, fluorescent tan skin, gleaming in the evening light, untouched, unscathed, completely beautiful and pure.

"Bellisima," Nicky whispered as he slowly shook his head in disbelief. Trisha was visibly trembling from how nervous his staring was making her. He saw her cheeks flood red and he went back to kissing her, this time more softly, and he real slowly began venturing his mouth downward, down the valley between her breasts, down her stomach, past her navel and lowered his head between her thighs. Trisha held his gaze the entire time, but soon broke it and stared up at the ceiling as she realized what he was about to do.

"Ahhh! Ssss..ooouuu.. NicholaaAAHHH!" She moaned lustfully at the feel of his tongue on her most sensitive spot. He continued his blissfully torturous oral pleasures on her until she tensed up and gave a final shudder, nearly pulling a lock of hair out of his scalp. "Haaa! Oh.. my God.." she sighed at the roof of the car.

When he raised his head, he smirked down at the naked, exhausted object of his affections nearly hanging off of his car seats, with one of her legs hanging on the back of them and the other planted on the driver seat.

When she finally opened her eyes, she saw him ridding himself of his shorts, and pulling out a condom, that he just coincidently happened to have, from his pocket.

"So you were expecting this?" She giggled knowingly up at him.

"Just waiting for you to give me that green light, baby," He smirked down at her as he ripped the wrapper open. As he lowered his boxers, she couldn't help but look down and watch as he prepared himself. He was average size, but good Lord, was he thick. Her insides stirred with anxiety. This was really about to happen. And she was ready.

He loomed over her, kissing her powerfully as he lined himself up at her entrance. She circled her legs around his waist.

"Nichola… Ti... (I..)" she placed one hand on his cheek and the other on his shoulder.Her lips quivered and her breath hitched at the feel of him toying at her entrance. "Ti…"

"Lo so (I know)" he replied as he flexed his groin. Trisha squeezed her eyes shut and bit her bottom lip hard as her back hyperextended off of the seats, lifting him as well. The pain was excruciating, but he quickly calmed her down with constant kisses and sweet nothings whispered in her ear, but none as sweet as, "Ti amo anch'io (I love you too)."

Her gasp got caught in her throat as he slowly pushed further. Trisha's eyes watered in both pain and pleasure as the rippling sensation of intrusion coursed through her body. Then, he smoothly slid all the way inside her, hilting himself as deep as he could. She clenched herself tighter around him, eliminating any space between them as she continuously sighed his name and squirmed against him. He pulled out halfway, and pushed back in harder this time, being rewarded with a smoldering, moist contraction around him, making him hiss and sigh her name back. Never has she felt so connected with a soul in all her life.

Several more agonizingly slow strokes and she was all his. She showed him just how worthy she was of his confession as she rose her pelvis, and met his strokes to and fro. He shuddered violently as he slightly quickened his pace, drawing a loud moan from the woman beneath him. He soon pushed her knees further back, lifting her hips to where he could easily dig down into her..

"Nicky! Aahhh! Oh… fuckkk Nickyyy!"

"Ssss..mmmm.. yeahhh Trisha, say my name baby," he pumped his hips into hers laboriously, thrusting deeper, then soon even harder and faster, making the whole suv begin to rock.

"Nicholahhh! Aaiii mio Dio!"

Ten minutes later, they laid in the aftermath of their lovemaking in each other's arms, breathing hard and covered in sweat. She caressed his face and brought his quivering lips to hers again, kissing him lazily but sensually, letting their lips linger on each other's. He finally relaxed and rested his head on her breasts, tickling her with his rugged breaths.

"I hope your dorm allows visitation," Nicky said exhaustedly. Trisha giggled as she ran her hands through his long luxurious hair.

"Nope. Freshman dorms don't get visitation sadly," she said softly. He groaned objectively.

"They're smart…" he stated. Trisha laughed again at him.

"I can maybe sneak you in one or two times."

"Not if you're screaming my name as loud as you were, you can't," Nicky smirked. Trisha scoffed as she gave him a girly hit on his back.

"HEEEYYY YOOOUU GUUUYYSSS!" They both looked up at the near-ending movie, where the mangled and disfigured Sloth sliced into the sail of the pirate ship with a dagger and cascaded down it with a screaming Chunk clinging onto his back.

Both of them busted out laughing again at the classic punchline. They kissed one more time before Nicky lifted off of her and they began putting their clothes back on. Nicky rolled down a couple windows, ventilating the car from its sexual atmosphere, and they continued to watch the rest of the movie in silence, cuddled up in the backseat.

She rested her head on his shoulder, reveling in what they had just done. She was just ironically thinking about what it would be like to be with Nicky, and here she was, having just had the most amazing experience in a woman's life, and he did NOT disappoint!

It wasn't how she expected her first time to be, but she wouldn't change it for the world. She released a content sigh as they watched the last scene of the now proclaimed "Goonies" belting out a victorious farewell to the freed, ancient, unmanned pirate ship that sailed into the sunset.

"Feeling alright, Ade?" Nicky asked resting his cheek on her head.

"If anything happens to you, I'll kill you. I hope you know that," she whispered. She felt him chuckle. That wasn't what he expected to hear.

"I wouldn't expect anything less," he kissed her forehead.

"Sono serio, Nicky (I'm serious, Nicky) Non potevo sopportare il pensiero che ti facessi male. Per favore, promettimi che starai attento mentre sono via (I couldn't bare the thought of you getting hurt. Please promise me you'll be careful while I'm away.)"

"Ade, you know there's no guaran-.."

"Promettimi! (Promise me!)" she held his face in both hands, moving his hair behind his ears. Nicky could see the worry and desperation in her eyes. Of course he couldn't promise her something so uncertain as this, but he loved her. Yes, he absolutely loved her, and she loved him, so he had to settle her doubts any way he could. He slowly kissed her, passionately, hungrily, hopelessly.

"Lo prometto," he whispered on her lips. A fatal promise he was willing to keep.

() () ()

Adelaide? Sei ancora lì? Qual è il problema, figlia mia? (You still there? What's the matter, my daughter?)"

"Oh! Umm.. Si Mami," Trisha snapped out of her flashback. Mi dispiace disturbarti così tardi. (I'm sorry to bother you this late.)"

"No, va benissimo, tesoro. Va tutto bene? Che cosa hai combinato? (No, it's perfectly fine, honey. Is everything alright? What did you mess up?)

Trisha took the phone off her ear for a second and placed the back of her hand on her forehead, releasing a couple more tears as she bit down hard on her tongue. What was she DOING?! She couldn't tell them about what just happened. She could be putting Riley's LIFE in danger! How could she be so callous and… cruel?! Trisha wised up real quick before putting the phone back up to her ear.

"Ahh… Niente Mama... Non riesco proprio a trovare il primer giusto per i tuoi tortellini di spinaci e pomodori. (I just can't seem to get the primer right on your spinach and tomato tortellini)" Trisha half-lied. She really couldn't get the damned thing right, at least not as good as her mother's.

"Trisha Adelaide-Giovanna Romano! You called me in the middle of the night for that?!" Rosette hollered. Trisha jumped as she held her phone away from her ear. Damn, she sure went back to English real quick. "And what would your father know about it?! He couldn't tell spinach from an ordinary leaf!"

"Conosco Mami, è stupido. (I know, Mami, it's stupid.) Non sai quanto mi manchi tutti. (You don't know how much I miss you all.)

"Anche tu ci manchi, Adelaide, così tanto. (We miss you too, Adelaide, so very much)" Rosette said more soothingly. Another tear rolled down Trisha's cheek as she fought back a sniffle. "Non stare lontano per troppo tempo, ok? Hai sempre una casa qui, ricordalo. Ricordi le nostre parole? (Don't stay away for too long, ok? You always have a home here, remember that. Remember our words?)"Trisha gave a hard sigh. How could she not?

"il sangue ti rende imparentato. La lealtà ti rende famiglia. (Blood makes you related. Loyalty makes you family.)"

"E?... (And?...)" She egged Trisha to finish the most important part.

"E tu vai contro la famiglia, (And you never go against the family)" Trisha said almost shamefully. "I know, Ma."

"Get some sleep, honey. Please call us more often?" Rosette said before yawning.

"I will, Ma. I love you,"

"I love you too. Happy Thanksgiving."

"Happy Thanksgiving," Trisha tried sounding more cheerful but failed miserably. They both hung up and Trisha fell into her pillow as she continued to weep.

---

She felt torn between two worlds, a new one that exhilarated her, that made her happy, and made her feel more womanly than ever, and the old one that haunted her, has only shown her suffering, but she had an unquestionable abiding loyalty to uphold to.

This was why she left. This was why she was afraid to date. This was why she visits less and less across the seas. She found herself feeling exactly how she felt all those years ago, like she had a dark cloud looming over her everywhere she went. She didn't want her motives and her lifestyle questioned because of who she was affiliated with. She just wanted her own life. And she was so close to getting it.

But, why did she have to go and do that stupid, evil prank on Riley? It seemed harmless at the time, but she came to find out how it wasn't… it really wasn't. He had the right to be angry. But she didn't expect him to go off on her like that!

Even worse, Riley unknowingly exposed the most private part of her life. And she confirmed it just out of spite to scare him. She feared that it might have actually worked.

So she broke the family code and chased Riley away. She was really messing up, big time, but she wanted to fix it.

She went to her vanity table and sat on the stool as she picked up her phone, turning off the 'Do Not Disturb' setting. A single message instantly came through from earlier that morning.

From: Riley
Trisha.

Just her name. She didn't know if it was passive or aggressive. Maybe he was feeling as bad about last night as she was. Maybe there was still a chance they could work this out. But what chance, really was there? What were the chances of them having a stable… whatever they had? It was hot, wild, and passionate. Even though it drove her completely mad with lust, it was getting out of hand. She was digging herself too deep. She hasn't felt this strongly about someone since…

She softly laid her phone back down on the table and rested her hand on the ledge, before slipping it down to her bottom drawer handle. She pulled it open and pulled out a small, square, cardboard box from the back corner. She opened it and traced her fingers over the golden bracelet laying on the white cotton inserts. The two diamonds were still as bright and lustrous as ever, like nothing had ever happened.

She felt her stomach tighten. She looked at her distorted reflection in the shattered mirror and she felt exactly how she looked, shattered into a million pieces. She immediately put the bracelet away and slammed her drawer shut, as she took a deep breath. She picked her phone back up and began to type.

To Riley:
Riley.

She replied just as simple, but she didn't know if the conversation following it may be as such. This just might be one of the most regrettable decisions she'll ever make, but it has to be done… for Riley's sake.

---

Jazmine pushed the last bobby-pin in place of her curly, wrap-around bun on the back of her head, with an accented braid going around the base. She had the front part of her head sleeked down with a side-part and her edges laid to perfection, and she had her usual stray curly strands of hair going down the sides of her face and some falling loose from the bottom of the bun.

She had on a bit heavier make-up than she usually did, but still made it look natural, with her dark brown eyeshadow, and mocha-cherry matte lipstick. She accented the contours of her cheeks and nose, and even broke out the false lashes. She hated wearing the damn things, mostly because they were such a pain to put on! But boy, did they intensify the color of her eyes.

She gave a few cute girly blinks at herself in the guest bathroom mirror and even practiced a couple sultry looks and poses as she stood in her nude-colored lace underwear set that blended into her caramel skin perfectly. Jazmine was feeling extra "Jazzy" today. She felt radiant, she felt sexy, she felt like the baddest bitch alive! She felt alive! She felt… him… everywhere.

Him… Huey Percival Freeman, the hard, devout, ex – domestic terrorist, black radical-freedom fighter, and revolutionist from across the street, who's enlightened, yet harsh mentality used to frighten her as a child, but now inspiresher as a woman. And under that rough exterior, was a man who's showed her the true depths of sensuality, affection, intimacy… and passion.

She bit her bottom lip as she began tracing herself around her neck, her collarbone, down her chest, caressing her sides, her stomach, and hips, recollecting the feel of his kisses, his touches, his licks and sucks, the deep, baritone rasp in his voice as he whispered those sexy and naughty things in her ear, the smell of his musk and cologne as he repeatedly pressed his muscular body against hers, sending her wave after wave of euphoric pleasure. Jazmine shivered as she squeezed her thighs together, reminiscing on every single detail from last night.

Damn, Huey had her tripping just from one little rump? She couldn't wait to see how she would feel when they decided to go all the way. But there was plenty of time for that. Exploring each other like they did last night was just as amazing. The fact that she was in an official relationship with him was more than enough.

In addition, the dark red and purple teeth marks on the side of her neck were like visceral signatures, signifying that since last night, Huey Freeman's name was officially written all over this.

She snapped out of her thoughts when there came a knock on the door.

"Jazmine, honey? You done in there?" Sarah said from the other side.

"Shit!" Jazmine hissed. She scrambled to get ahold of her concealer and blending sponge. She purposefully avoided using makeup to cover her hickeys because her clothes would do that for her and she didn't want it smearing.

"Mind if I come in?" She opened the door and Jazmine flat out dropped her jar of concealer on the countertop and moved her hand to her neck in a not-so-casual pose. "Umm.. are you feeling alright?"

'Never better, Momma!' Jazmine signed with her other hand. She turned her head completely and began picking everything up. 'Sorry I took so long. I'm going to get dressed now. All yours!' she shimmied past her mother, angling her head more awkwardly.

"No problem, honey. Oh! And I found this on your nightstand. Are you still smoking, Jazmine? Sarah handed Jazmine her zippo lighter as she lifted her eyebrow in a scolding manner. Jazmine pretended to rub her neck, as she smiled cheekily. "I thought I heard the door opening and closing last night. You should really think about quitting, Jazmine. I don't know where you picked it up from." Sarah shook her head.

'Well… I won't be needing it anymore,' Jazmine signed confidently. 'It ran out of fuel after I… smoked a couple cigarettes… outside… last night,' Jazmine went right along with her mother's assumption. 'It helped me cope with my mourning, but now…' Jazmine reached for her neck again.

'Now?' Sarah signed.

'I'm not mourning for him anymore,' Jazmine signed with one hand. 'I guess you could say I had an.. epiphany last night. I'm ready to move on.'

"Really? Oh! Jazmine, honey, that is great! Just wonderful!" Sarah took both of Jazmine's hands and squeezed them, making Jazmine have to turn her head even more to the side. "Annnd would a certain someone with a certain, say… afro, have a part to play in this epiphany?" Sarah raised both her eyebrows. Jazmine pulled her hands away and tilted her head in a more awkward position as she left the bathroom.

'Maybe?...' Jazmine signed with a smirk. Sarah shook her head and turned her attention to the mirror as she began putting her face on.

Jazmine released a sigh of relief when she reached the walk-in closet. Damn that was close. It wasn't like she thought her mother would make it a big deal…well.. maybe a little. It was more of the fact that it would come across as sketchy that Jazmine just so happened to have a fat ass hickey on her neck when she didn't have one the night prior.

So, Jazmine went with the olive green turtleneck, long-sleeve, body-con dress that came down just past her knees and light brown, suede, peep-toe stiletto ankle booties that laced up in the front. She went to her vanity and began putting on her jewelry: tribal, dangling wooden earrings with golden trim and a matching necklace and bracelets, along with her golden locket.. She put on her favorite golden rings and sprayed her favorite perfume and she was all ready. She gave herself a once-over. Oh, she was gonna slay him today.

Then, a sweet aroma filled her nose and she closed her eyes as she got lost in its cinnamon-swirly smell, until her eyes snapped back open. Her peach cobbler! She nearly toppled over in the stool trying to get up. She quickly went downstairs, where her father and grandparents dressed in their holiday best, were sitting in the living room watching the Thanksgiving Day parade on the news.

"Hey, Jazmine! Happy Thanksgiving, honey!" Tom got up from the couch and kissed her on the cheek.

'Happy Thanksgiving Daddy!' Jazmine signed before lifting up her turtleneck just a little.

"Happy Thanksgiving, indeed!" Par'es joined in.

"Happy Thanksgiving darling! Wow, you look stunning! But, is that dress the right size, my dear?" Genevieve said in her usual petty tone. Jazmine pulled at the side of her dress, showing the dexterity of the spandex material. "I just can't remember when fashion became so tight-fitting!"

'Well, you said so yourself. Your memory isn't the best.' Jazmine signed with a sarcastic smile, but Tom avoided interpreting and quickly changed the subject.

"What on Earth is that heavenly smell?" Tom sniffed the air.

'It's my peach cobbler, Daddy' Jazmine signed. 'You remember? It's Huey and Riley's favorite dessert.'

"Oh, right right! Well, I guess I couldn't have guessed from the last time we took peach cobbler over there," Tom laughed. "I hope you have a better recipe! Wouldn't want Riley throwing a tantrum like he did with your mother's." He bursted out in a bigger fit of laughter, but Jazmine kept shaking her head and motioning for him to stop with her hands. "What? What is it sweetie? I mean I told her not to add those peas!" Jazmine kept looking behind him and then back at him, pleading with her eyes for him to stop talking.

"I seem to recall you encouraging me to add them." Tom immediately stiffened as he slowly turned around, to see Sarah standing behind him with her arms crossed and one eyebrow raised.

"Well, you seemed so adamant about adding 'nutritional value'," Tom shrugged.

"To a dessert, Tom? You could have at least…. You know what? Forget it. Never mind," Sarah held her hand up and started towards the kitchen, with Jazmine following not far behind her, shaking her head. When they left to go check on the dessert, Par'es spoke up, breaking the awkward moment.

"So, this family across the street? What did you say their name was?" Par'es asked.

"The Freemans, Pop. They definitely made this neighborhood more… exciting while we were here to say the least," Tom said rubbing the back of his neck.

"Freeman, huh? Why does it sound so familiar?" Par'es tapped his chin.

"Are these the same Freemans you told us about you staying with while you and Ms. Hampton were having issues?" Genevieve spoke up bluntly. Tom rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Yes, Mother… that's them," he grunted.

"Oh, well you should feel right at home then, shouldn't you son?" Genevieve laughed whole-heartedly.

"Ughhh," Tom grunted irritably as he rubbed his head.

"Yes, yes, but I'm thinking of something else, son. I just don't remember what! Where have I heard that name before?" Par'es tapped his chin as he thought.

"Well, I don't know Pop. The Freemans have been on national television many times for different issues, as well as part of major occurrences in this city over the years. They've grown to be pretty famous, or should I say infamous in this community from all the escapades and uproars they've caused," Tom informed him.

"Hmmmm, infamous you say? But then, I thought… I could've sworn there were Freemans I heard about in… Well, I just can't put my foot on it right now. Agh, I'm sure it will come to me eventually," Par'es waved his hand off, dismissing the idea.

"Oh no, Pop. This is a pretty rare family. I don't think you've ever met a family like this before," Tom assured him.

But something in Par'es Dubois' gut told him that his son was wrong. The sound of the name Freeman raised an alarm in his body and sent a shiver through his spine, like the name was from a ghost's past, a ghost he had probably done wrong.

---

This chapter was getting pretty lengthy, so I had to break it down to two chapters. THANKSGIVING AFTERNOON/EVENING will be posted no later than Next Weekend! Which will contain the actual Thanksgiving dinner and some "confrontations" ;) Blake and Rasheeda are in for a whole world of hurt, just be ready lol.

Not much POV from Huey in this chapter i'm afraid, except from the scene with Riley, but you'll get more of his outlooks on his "new relationship" next chapter! He may not have shown it here, but my boy is GEEKED! XD XD

I felt that we should see a different side to Riley as well. In the comic strips and in the show, as well as some fanfics, his craft is drawing and painting. But I wanted to take a different route. I certainly like the idea of Riley as a singer, and even more so, Huey, with a musical family. Don't worry, we'll get to explore that side of them in future chapters! You'll get to "Meet the Freemans" come Christmas time! :) :) and soon learn the causes of Huey and Riley's parents' death.

I hope you all don't judge my girl, Trisha too much! She really is a good soul, just had a rough life. We will get to see how she and Riley patch things up next chapter, but I will say this, it's gonna be rocky road for them two from here on out, so don't be too judgy on her right here okay? lolol By the way, her brother's nickname 'Luci' is pronounced LuCHi, not Lucy lolol. Idk if that's how you guys were reading it or not, I just wanted to clear that up haha.

Special Shoutouts to my Reviewers!: sncjana, Cedmaster3k, ThatBlackGirl (you mah dawg!), Bulmas Ego, GREENPEACE1990, BoondocksFanGirl, RuffinNoRelation, EbonixBrat, and Regularhuman and ALL GUEST REVIEWERS!

You guys are awesome and much appreciated! *air hugs*!

Please REVIEW for the next update! I love your feedback! See ya'll next time!

-BDF234 Xoxoxoxo