Kate

I was totally useless.

I cursed loudly as knife made contact with skin and pulled half the roll of paper towels off and forced it against my skin. I continued sprouting off a long stream of curses that would have made any sailor proud and any mother cringe.

In case this couldn't have possibly been going any worse Sergio came plundering into the kitchen whistling a merry tune, he slowed down when he noticed me having some sort of conniption. "Issues?"

Sergio entered the kitchen and pulled a can of soda. He popped the tab and leaned against the counter to face me as I stood at the center of the island holding the paper towel to my hand. "Issues?"

"No." I huffed.

He slid up onto the counter behind him and took a drink. "Whatcha doin?"

"Playing tiddly winks in a bar, what does it look like I'm doing?" I pulled open a number of paper towels free from the roll again and switch them out for the bloodied ones.

"From over here? Looks like a botched suicide attempt."

"Well it's not! But now that you've planted the idea in my head...I'm just trying to make dinner!"

"You cook?" "No but I volunteered tonight." I groaned and dropped the empty cardboard roll on the counter.

"Well, then wouldn't you think volunteering was a bit of a, oh I don't know, stupid thing to do?"

"You know one day Alessio's mom made this comment about her son withering away into nothing because he wasn't eating enough and then his dad piped in about how they'd just have to hire a personal cook for him to make sure he was "taken care of" like hello? I'm his wife! It's my job to take care of him! Then Ari comes in and she can help with dinner, so like a complete moron I said I was a great cook and I'd just love to make dinner tonight. Of course he's fȕcking Italian, has a huge fȕcking family and they all eat like fȕcking elephants. How the hell do you come up with enough food to feed a herd of elephants? You don't! That's how!"

Sergio watched me with a bemused expression and his grin only grew the longer I went on.

"Of course his mother could feed five of these herds! She makes like twelve course meals. I swear she pulls these fine dining dishes out of her ass hole or some shit. It's ridiculous. I mean like, how does everything even finish at the exact same time? When does she even find time to get all this cooking done? You know what I think it is? A conspiracy. She probably orders catering every night or has all the workers help her. There's just no way someone can cook that much, all by themselves, in such a short amount of time. It's just not even humanly possibly. I refuse to buy into this trickery! Some sort of black magic shit going on around here." I continued on as I dramatically slammed things around one handed.

Sergio's cold laughter interrupted my rant suddenly. I'd actually forgotten he was even there. I should probably be embarrassed at unloading all of that, but I was far too invested in how much I couldn't stand this guy. I glared at him for a few moments and then returned to holding my bleeding hand firmly. "Okay." He finally said after several minutes of laughter.

"Okay?" I repeated.

"Okay I'll help you." He slid off the counter, he readjusted his bandana and began pulling pots and pans from various cupboards.

I watched him for a few moments, his back was to me as he rooted through the cupboards and then the fridge. "You can cook?"

"Of course I can cook." He looked over his shoulder. "Don't sound so damn surprised I'm good at things too. Don't think Alessio is the only one with any skill around here."

"Okay let me rephrase this. You can cook and you're willing to help me? I mean, no offense, but I sort of got the impression that you were...well...an asshole."

"Don't worry." He turned back around and began skillfully cutting different vibrantly colored vegetables. "I am."

"Those don't go with what I'm making."

"It's for a salad. And peppers go great with everything."

"Why are you helping me?" I asked and slowly peeled the paper towels away from my hand, grimaced, and pressed it back in place.

"The Genovese family is not exactly the family you want to be out casted from. Trust me."

"You speak from experience?"

"Run that under water." He said motioning to my hand.

"I'm fine."

"I didn't ask if you were fine, I told you to run it under water."

I put my hand under the island.

He watched me expectantly for a few moments before lowering his knife. "Do you want my help or not?" I nodded. "Then run your damn hand under some cool water!"

I slowly dragged my feet across the kitchen and to the sink. I turned the cool water on and slowly moved the paper towels away and put my hand under the running water. I winced and watched the water come out pink beneath my hand. "So what makes you an outcast?"

"I never said I was. And we don't have to do the whole friendly conversation thing. I don't like you and you still don't like me. Got it?"

"Thank God." I muttered sarcastically.

We were quiet for a few moments. I eventually turned the water off despite the fact that it still wasn't running clean and put a towel to my hand. I stepped beside Sergio just as he was pushing everything into one large bowl. "That's one colorful salad."

He finally turned to look at me and leaned against the counter. "I'm not in the mafia. Sort of makes me the odd guy out around here." He looked back to the messy kitchen. The pot on the stove was boiling over. "What did you decide to make?"

"Mac and cheese."

He chuckled and went to the boiling water. "No really. What are you making?"

My face grew even hotter.

"Macaroni and cheese?" He repeated.

I shrugged.

"Macaroni and cheese?!"

"Well I needed something easy and that could feed a lot! Besides, Italians love cheese and pasta! That's like, their staple. It's homemade! Not even out of the box!"

"First off, that's stereo typing and rude." I rolled my eyes. Sergio of all people lecturing me as rude? "And secondly you can't just throw cheese on pasta and call it a meal! Thirdly you didn't even stir the elbows and now they're sticking together. Next time throw a bit of oil in it and they won't stick as much. Fourthly, you're dripping."

I looked down at the two drops of blood that had landed on the island. "Shit!" I cursed and grabbed another towel. "Don't tell anyone I did that!"

"What the hell did you even cut yourself on? You're making fȕcking macaroni."

"The cheese obviously!"

He stared at me for a minute and then wrapped his arms around his stomach and laughed. He bent over and howled, slapped the island several times in hysterics. I huffed and stuck my hand under the sink again for a full two minutes before he finally stopped laughing and wiped tears away from the corners of his eyes.

"Please don't make a corny cut the cheese joke." I said flatly and he burst into laughter again.

He walked across the kitchen still laughing though not nearly as much and started pulling more things out of the fridge and different cupboards. "I've never met someone who cut themselves trying to cut cheese, and our butcher slices cheese with a very large and dangerous machine."

"I just thought it would melt faster if I cut it into little cubes..."

"It's alright. We can fix this." He said and motioned for me to join him on the now heavily cluttered counter. "You're lucky. Had you presented Mrs. Genovese with plain macaroni and cheese she probably would have stuffed you into a crate and shipped you across seas."

"How does that make me lucky?"

"Because I'm here to save you of course." I rolled my eyes. "See here, with just a few ingredients we can make your elementary school lunch into a nice, delicious, adult meal."

"Adults eat mac and cheese too."

"Macaroni dear, adults use their big words and call it macaroni."

"God I hate you."

"Feeling is mutual. So what I have here is some onion, garlic cloves, pickled jalapenos, and plum tomatoes. We're going to mince the jalapenos and garlic and chop up the onion and tomatoes." He slid a can of plum tomatoes over to me. "Drain the juice first."

"I didn't even know they plumed tomatoes." I muttered and held the jar between my elbow and forearm of my cut hand and opened it with my good one.

He watched me do so. "Let me see your hand."

"I'm fine."

"I didn't ask if you're fine." He said again. I rolled my eyes and ignored him.

After a few moments of watching me struggle with draining the tomatoes with one hand he pulled the can from me. "I trust you can at least measure out a teaspoon of coriander and one of cumin?"

"Of course...what exactly is coriander?"

He laughed, apparently missing the fact that I was completely serious.

"We'll put parmesan, and monetary jack cheese in too. A bit of flour milk and butter, some bread crumbs, and viola! A spicy, baked, macaroni and cheese that even my mother would be impressed with."

"Awesome!" I definitely had a new respect for the boxed stuff.

"Damn it Kate!" He huffed suddenly startling me badly enough that I dropped the cumin. "Give me your hand!"

"I'm fine!"

"I didn't ask if you were fine, I told you-"

"God you're bossy!" I yelled back and pulled my hand protectively to my chest.

"You've been bleeding for more than ten minutes!"

"I'm fine! Look!" I pulled the towel away for a brief second to make my point and then reapplied. "Totally fine."

"Then let me see it."

"No."

"And why not?"

"Why are you so obsessed with me? Gosh!" He gave me an annoyed look and I shrugged. "How do I know you don't have some sort of freaky hand fetish?"

He reached across the island far enough to grab my wrist. "Trust me when I say nothing on you is fetish worthy."

"Hey!"

He let the towel fall off and I looked at my hand for the first time too. It was practically dead in the center of my hand, the gash looked darker than I was used to a simple cut looking and I knew exactly what he was thinking and it wasn't going to happen. "How the hell do you do this cutting cheese?"

"I couldn't find the cutting board."

"So what? You held it in your hand?" He snapped and grabbed a new towel.

"I cut things like that all the time."

"Like what? Apples and pears? In case you haven't noticed cheese doesn't exactly offer a huge resistance and we don't purchase our utensils from the discount outlet."

"Hey!"

"They're a professional grade." He continued lecturing me, clearly annoyed with my stupidity as he got another few dish towels out.

"I had professional grade knives too thank you very much!"

"Hold your hand above your head, apply pressure."

"I have been. Culo."

He glared at me and came around the island to be on my side. "Come on princess."

"What? Come? Where?"

"We're going to the emergency room. You need stiches."

I pulled my hand into my chest protectively. "No I don't!"

"Kate-"

"I'm fine!" I yelled and began rummaging quickly with one hand through the different drawers until I found tape, I sloppily started taping the towels into place as best a one handed person could. "See totally fine, I can still do like, everything."

"Kate." He sighed sounding impatiently and took me by the elbow.

I pulled away sharply and backed against the counter. "No!"

"Quit being such a baby!"

"I'm not being a baby! I...I have to make dinner."

"You weren't making it anyway, I was, I wouldn't trust you to make my toast at this point. I'll call Pietro and explain the situation. I'm sure he'd expect nothing less of you." He rolled his eyes and reached out to me again.

"I can't." I finally admitted and heat began rising to my cheeks.

"What?"

"I'm an illegal immigrant." I lied.

"That doesn't matter. You have connections. Let's go."

"I-I-I-"

"Stop acting like you're afraid! Yeesh, it'll probably take like a half hour if that. Now lets go!" I shrunk back and after a moment he lowered his hand and stepped closer to me with an intrigued expression. "You are afraid."

"No I'm not." I said too quickly.

"What? You think I'm going to drive us off a cliff? I'll help you make dinner but what, kidnap you now?"

"It's not that."

"Then what?"

I tightened my protective grip on my hand. "I...I...I don't do doctors."

His intrigued and amused expression changed quickly to surprise and then something else entirely. "Come on, ya big baby." He held his hand out to me in an entirely different manor than before. Not in a demanding way, not in a follow as I lead way, but something almost supportive.

"What about dinner?" I said softly taking a small step forward.

"I told you, I'll call Pietro. He likes you, for some odd reason, he'll keep your secret."

"I really, really don't do doctors."

"I'll be there."

"And what good will that do me?" I huffed and took his hand with my uncut one.

"Maybe you won't act like as big a baby as usual if I'm there because you know I'll hold it over your head?"

"That's not helpful."

"No, but it sure does sound like a good time." He said letting go of my hand and putting his arm over my shoulder. "Keep pressure on it."

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Surprise, I didn't like the last chapter very much and this one was pretty much ready sooooo here ya go. I'm still back and forth on whether or not I love this story or hate it haha.

Don't forget to vote and comment.