“You don’t wanna give me a ride, that’s cool, but keep your pants on, asshole. I just need Frankie’s keys,” she snapped.

Benny felt his body get tight, which was good. That meant it’d make it hard to move.

He didn’t have the same problem with his mouth. “You’re tellin’ me you shouldered your way in my home, I haven’t seen you in fuckin’ years, and you’re callin’ me an asshole?”

“You just told me to get out,” she shot back.

“It’s my house. I can do that shit when someone who isn’t welcome is in it,” he returned.

He knew Theresa and Vinnie Senior were in the back hall.

Unfortunately, on his words, Francesca entered the space by walking slowly down the stairs.

Further to that misfortune, she was wearing a light pink baby-doll tee that was tight at her tits and a light gray pair of those loose but clingy drawstring yoga pants women wore that showed no skin but gave it all away in a way every man liked if his dick worked and he wasn’t into guys.

So no turtleneck or sweatshirt.

Fuck.

Her eyes were on her sister and her mouth was moving to ask, “What’s goin’ on?”

Nat looked up at her sister, and before Ben could say a word, she announced, “Just got shot of the douche, soon to be formerly known as my husband. Need a place to crash. Heard you were here, which means your place is empty, so I’m gonna crash there. I need your keys, and quick, ’cause Benny’s decided to be a dick and I’ve had a bad morning. I don’t need that shit.”

Benny was pissed. Absolutely.

But he instantly had another problem on his hands.

This was that he knew, with the way Frankie’s face changed, his house was about to turn into a Concetti war zone. He’d seen it, more than once, but had been removed from it. Vinnie had to put up with that shit and that was one thing in all that was Frankie that he did not envy his brother.

But now, the woman on his stairs was not one hundred percent and she had no business throwing down with her sister. Not the way the Concetti women threw down.

Therefore, he made a move to the stairs just as Frankie replied, “First, you think of askin’ to crash at my place?”

To this, Nat retorted, “I don’t need hassle from you either.”

Frankie made her way down the rest of the stairs and stopped on the last step where Benny was standing at the bottom, barring her from going further, thinking distance was key in this scenario.

She ignored her sister and kept with her list. “Second, you come to Ben’s and call him a dick right to his face, right in his damned house?”

“Think I called him a dick to you, not to his face,” Nat fired back. “He just happened to be standin’ there.”

Frankie ignored that too.

“Third, you show at Ben’s house, layin’ your shit at my feet and his door, when I can’t take a fucking shower by myself, doctor’s orders, ’cause I got a hole in me?”

Her voice was getting louder, so Benny murmured a soothing “Frankie” that he knew no way in hell would soothe her.

“Babe—” Nat started, a change coming over her face. What Frankie said, by some miracle, got in there.

But for Frankie, it was too little, too late. “No. Fuck no,” Frankie hissed. “Get your shit and get gone.”

“Got no place to go, sis. Need you to help me out,” Nat told her.

“Why?” Frankie returned immediately. “’Cause you screwed around on Davey again, he found out again, and I’m up on the rotation when he kicked your ass out and you need somewhere to wait it out until he loses his mind and takes your cheatin’ ass back?”

Nat’s face, which had gone soft with guilt at Frankie’s earlier comment, went hard in a shot. “I’m not discussin’ my marital woes with you in front of the fuckin’ Bianchis and whoever that bitch is.” She jerked her chin toward the stairs.

Benny looked that way to see Asheeka three steps up. When he did, he also saw Asheeka didn’t take kindly to being called a bitch.

Fuck.

He had to wade in. Immediately. The Concettis were bad enough. He didn’t need the unknown Asheeka throwing her hat into the ring.

“This is what’s gonna happen,” Benny stated, eyes back to Nat. “I’m gonna call a cab and give you some cake so you can put yourself up in a hotel for a coupla days while you sort your shit.”

Frankie instantly fucked with his plan by declaring, “You absolutely are not doin’ any of that shit, Benny Bianchi. And you” —he saw her finger jab out toward her sister in his peripheral vision— “do not ever call one of my sisters of the heart a bitch.”

He cut his eyes to her face. “Babe, just let me deal with this quick so we can get you some breakfast.”

“And there it is. Rumor is flyin’ and here’s the proof,” Nat put in with a full-on bitch voice that Benny should have reacted to quicker and would not know until later that he would pay the price in a variety of painful ways when he didn’t. “Francesca Concetti, always wantin’ an in on that pizzeria and the cash it makes, has grasped onto another Bianchi cock to get it. Hat’s off to you, babe. Never thought after you killed the first, you’d get a shot at the next.”

Ben stood stone-still, afraid to move, because he knew precisely what he’d do if he did. He stayed motionless as he felt the emotion beating down from Frankie and he fought back the urge to do violence against a female.

His father, with more years to learn control, moved.

He did this to walk into the foyer. He grabbed a duffel, took it to the door, and sent it flying. He put some heft behind his toss because it didn’t hit the top of the stoop; it hit the sidewalk.

“Hey! What the fuck! I got fragile shit in that!” Nat shouted.

Vinnie Senior didn’t hesitate. He did the same with the other one.

“What the fuck!” Nat screeched.

Done with the bags, Vinnie Senior stood, hand on the door, leveled his eyes on Natalia, and said one word: “Out.”

She was too stupid to take that one word, or read the look on his pop’s face that said the smart move was not to earn more. She straight-up prompted more with “Fuck you, old man.”

That was when Benny moved.

He only stopped when he felt his mother wrap her fingers around his forearm and she did this tight.

“One warning, Natalia,” Vinnie said low. “You go or I put you out, and I will be puttin’ my hand on you to put you out. You give me lip or problems when I put my hand on you, you’ll be makin’ a big mistake ’cause my son is holdin’ back and you do not wanna force him to let go. Now, you go and you do not come back to this house, and you have not one thing to do with your sister unless she reaches out to you. Are you hearin’ me?”

“Let me get this straight,” Nat started, crossing her arms on her chest. “The Bianchis pissed all over my sister for years, she gets shot savin’ one of your women you actually give a shit about, unlike Frankie, and you all see the error of your ways and crawl up her ass. Is that right?”

“Yeah, that’s right, Natalia,” Vinnie Senior replied. “And perhaps you should see this as a lesson in family: you mess up, you fess up. Make amends. And if you can do that bein’ there for someone you care about in her time of need, all the better. Somethin’ my son tells me you didn’t do, her lyin’ in a hospital bed for days without a visit from her sister.”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I work nights so I gotta sleep days,” she returned.

“That is not an excuse and you stand there sayin’ those words knowin’ it,” Vinnie Senior replied.

Nat opened her mouth to speak, but Benny had gotten a lock on it.

That said, he was also done.

“Pop, get her out before I do it,” he warned.

Nat’s eyes shot to him just as Vinnie moved to her and he saw she was at least smart enough to read his look and know her time was up.

This was why she yelled, “Shit! Fuck! I got no place to go and no money to get there!”

“Not my problem,” Benny told her.

She looked to her sister. “Frankie, seriously—”

“I did not kill Vinnie.”

This was unexpected. It was also whispered. And it sounded tortured. Hearing it, everyone in that space went still except Ben, who looked to Francesca at the same time he moved up, crowding her on the step.

Her eyes stayed glued to her sister. “That you would say that to me, even think that about me…you’re dead to me.”

Fuck.

“Frankie, babe—” Nat started.

“Dead,” she whispered, turned, and rushed up the steps.

Benny cut his eyes to his father and ordered a growled, “Get her the fuck out, Pop. Now.”

Then he turned and took the steps two at a time, following Frankie.

He hit his bedroom to see Frankie pacing, face pale, visibly deep breathing. He was concerned about her state of mind, but he was downright worried when he saw she had her hand resting where her wound was.

Uncertain about getting physical when she was so clearly agitated, he called, “Baby, come here.”

Her eyes moved to him. She opened her mouth to say something but closed it before she got a word out.

He still caught the look in her eye and it was one he couldn’t read again. This one was bad.

“Francesca, come here,” he repeated.

“I need alone time,” she stated, her voice dead, her feet still moving her around the room in a twitchy way he did not like.

“Cara, you don’t need that,” he told her. “You need more coffee, breakfast, and to sit down at the kitchen table with people who give a shit about you.”

“Everything okay?”

This came from the door where Asheeka was standing, eyes on Frankie.