Chapter Eighteen

I woke in a cold sweat, my heart almost beating through my chest, my breathing ragged. It was dark in my room, but so had been the night in my dream. The night that haunted me often and woke me sweat-drenched every time.

I sat up and swung my legs out of bed. Only dressed in my boxers, I walked out into my living room and stared out over the New York skyline.

I only spent one or two nights over at Cressida’s and my townhouse per week, and never in the same bedroom. My sleep was already fitful, with her by my side it would be non-existent. We barely tolerated each other and she still hadn’t forgiven me for our wedding night. That wasn’t why the night haunted my dreams.

I pressed my forehead against the glass, remembering the day when years of peace between the Camorra and the Famiglia had ended.

Greta jumped off the edge.

Nevio shoved Gianna away, his face twisting with fear.

I stared at the spot where Greta had been moments before. I didn’t think. I began running. Nothing else mattered.

“Amo, don’t!” Dad roared.

I reached the edge and I stared down at the Hudson. My eyes frantically searched the inky surface for a sign of Greta. She was nowhere to be seen. The current in the Hudson could be strong. Nevio catapulted himself into the floods without thinking but I knew it was impossible to find someone in a large body of water without a hint of where they might be. Ignoring the commotion around me, my heart beat faster and faster, until I spotted a flash of white floating below the surface off to the right down the river. Nevio was nowhere near that spot. After I dropped my gun, I jumped before I lost sight of it again. The impact knocked the air out of me and it took several confusing heartbeats before I could tell what was up and down, and swam up to the surface. The current was dragging Greta away. I began swimming, using the force of the water to get where I needed to be.

For a long time, I was sure I’d never reach her but then my hand closed around hers.

It hadn’t rained in almost three weeks, so the water level was low and the river lazier than usual. It cost me all my strength to drag us to a stone platform. We had been dragged a good distance away from our families. A steep ladder attached to the pillar led up to the platform. I wrapped my arm around Greta’s middle and pulled myself up with one arm until my feet reached the first step. I was out of breath when I reached the top, Greta still dangling in my hold. Putting her down on the ground, I stared at Greta’s unmoving form beneath me, my chest heaving. Fuck. I’d barely any breath left for me but I pressed my mouth to hers, and began to resuscitate her. I’d tried to make my peace with the fact that I’d never see her again, but the idea that she wouldn’t still be safe somewhere, living her life, it was unacceptable.

When she sucked in her first breath, it felt as if I could breathe freely again too. Her eyes slammed open, locking on mine.

Fuck.

I cradled her face. “Have you lost your mind? Why did you jump? Why didn’t you try to stay at the surface?” More whys flooded my head but I kept them to myself.

“To be alone with you.” I didn’t crack a smile at her failed attempt at humor. She shivered, her breath catching. She swallowed. “I wanted to stop your family and mine from killing each other. I can’t swim.”

I shook my head. “They’re probably still killing each other.”

But I knew that wouldn’t be the case. Dad would send everyone out to save me, and Remo would try to save Greta.

“You could be dead.”

“I knew you’d jump in after me and save me.”

She said it without a flicker of a doubt. Love is a fucking weakness.

“I’m married now.”

“I know,” she said simply.

I looked away from her lovely face because I would have kissed her otherwise. It would have only made me look like even more of a fool.

“Don’t allow them to kill each other, Amo, please. Don’t let what’s between us cause a war. It’s too precious to be the reason for something this horrendous.”

“What is between us?” I rasped, glaring down at her, my palms still pressed to her cheeks, my body caging her in.

She licked her lips and I lost it. I bent down and kissed her, claiming those lush lips. When I pulled back again, I growled. “There’s nothing between us anymore, Greta. You didn’t allow it to be.” I got up with a hard smile. “Don’t trust me to save you again.”

I rubbed my face to bring me back to the present. It was the only kiss I’d had in my wedding night. I let out a harsh laugh. I had, however, fucked my wife when I’d returned home in wet, blood-covered clothes. Anger fueled fucking on both sides. Cressida had sunk her nails into the still tender scar of my knife wound, drawing blood, her eyes bursting with loathing, which had only intensified when I’d pulled out before orgasm and come on my own stomach. I wouldn’t get Cressida pregnant.

It was only four in the morning but I wouldn’t fall back asleep, so I got dressed and drove to my parents’ house. Dad would be awake too. Since we’d declared war on the Camorra, his nights were as sleepless as mine. Like the Camorra, we now had too many enemies and no true allies. Even if Greta’s actions hadn’t stopped the war, they had postponed it. Nobody had died that night, especially not Isabella, or Gianna—or Greta.

I let myself into the townhouse with my spare key. Dad had taken it from me the day after the bridge incident, and had barely spoken to me for almost six months, but Mom’s insistent mediation had eventually brought us back together. As expected, dim light came from under the door to Dad’s office. I headed there. He would already have seen me approach the front door through the security cameras. I didn’t knock before I stepped in. Dad sat behind his desk, bent over several maps, a dark look on his face. Our last drug transport had been stopped by the Camorra in Texas.

“As long as the Corsican Union sells us drugs, we’ll be fine with a stopped transport here and there,” I said as I sank down across from Dad.

“We’re paying double for the same shit.”

It was true. The Corsican Union bought drugs from the Russians, transported it to their territory in the French part of Canada through Alaska and sold it to us for double the price. Our customers were desperate so they still bought the overpriced drugs, but the Russians had been trying to sell cheaper ware in our territory.

“Eventually the Camorra won’t be as focused on our transport routes anymore.”

A muscle in Dad’s cheek flexed. “If we’d killed Remo and the rest that night, we would be better off.”

“Nevio would have killed Gianna and Isa. He wouldn’t have batted an eyelash. I can’t see how that would have improved our situation.”

“It would have made my sleep more satisfactory knowing I’d killed Remo Falcone,” Dad said.

I didn’t say anything. The look in Greta’s eyes when I’d turned my back on her after I’d pulled her from the river popped up uninvited. I hadn’t talked to her since that night and I tried not to think of her—which was close to impossible.

A soft knock sounded and Mom peered in, her face clouding with worry when she saw me and Dad. But worry had become her constant companion these last twelve months, mainly for Gianna and Isa. Gianna was her usual snappy self, which was probably an act, but Isa had definitely changed, become quieter, even more obsessed with her fictional worlds and chess.

“You should sleep,” Dad murmured.

“So should you.”

He leaned back in the chair.

She sighed. “How much longer do you want to keep up the war?”

“Some things are inevitable.”

The sadness on her face intensified but she nodded. I knew she missed Fabiano and especially Aurora. She left with a shuddering breath. I hated knowing that she would be crying over the situation.

Dad got up. “I’ll talk to her.” At the door he paused. “Maybe you should go back home.”

“Where is that?” I asked with a bitter smile.

“I want to go home, Nevio,” I whispered, shivering, rubbing my arms.

I usually loved Vegas by night, but this part of town had a starved, greedy feel to it that made my pulse speed up.

Nevio sank down in front of me, dark brows pulling together.

“Now?”

“Now,” I whimpered. I should have never asked them to take me with them, even if Nevio had promised that they were only looking for a caravan to buy tonight. I hadn’t dared ask him why they needed the caravan. I’d learned to keep my questions limited when it came to my brother’s nightly activities. Some things were better left unsaid, like what happened the night he kidnapped two women and Amo saved me from the floods. My stomach clenched. Nevio had carried me back to the car that night, cradling me against his chest like a child. He hadn’t spared a single look at Amo as he did.

Massimo gave Nevio a sign from his position on top of the fence surrounding the scrapyard.

“Just one more stop, all right? They don’t have what I’m looking for here.” Nevio searched my eyes. “You’ll get over him.”

“I know.”

Nevio stood and held out his hand, which I took and let him pull me to my feet. “Come on. All that matters is our family, Greta, and we’ll always be by your side.”

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to talk about Amo with Nevio. I hadn’t talked about him to anyone. It hurt enough that I saw his face in my dreams every night.

Nevio pulled me away from the scrapyard as Massimo jumped down from the fence and Alessio got back behind the steering wheel.

Nevio wrapped his arm around my shoulders as we settled on the backseat.

“Where are we going?” Alessio asked from the front seat.

“Let’s go to Ivanov’s. When I drove past there last time, I saw a Campervan I liked.”

One corner of Nevio’s mouth pulled up in a way that meant trouble. Usually I would have tried to be the voice of reason but today I felt like chaos myself. I wanted to be consumed by Nevio’s frenzy until it blasted away everything that ached inside of me. “If your Dad finds out Greta is here with us, he’ll skin us alive.”

“He knows we can protect Greta.”

Massimo shook his head but neither he nor Alessio tried to talk Nevio out of it.

We eventually arrived in an even shadier part of the city, on the outskirts, at a car dealership which looked as if it mainly dealt with other things.

Alessio parked in front of the rundown building.

The men who sat on chairs in front of the illuminated garage spoke in a Slavic language I didn’t know. It wasn’t Russian because I had decent knowledge of it. Maybe Bulgarian or Albanian.

They all got up when we approached them, exchanging looks and condescending smiles.

“They don’t know who we are?” Alessio said with a hint of excitement.

“Seems they don’t have a clue,” Nevio said with a grin.

“You got lost,” one of the men said with a heavy accent.

“We want that caravan,” Massimo said, pointing at an old caravan over to the side.

“Not for sale.”

The biggest man came closer, checking me out. He sneered at Nevio. “She yours?”

“She’s ours,” Massimo said, giving Nevio a wary look.

The men snickered. “Then she won’t mind filling her holes with a few more dicks.”

“Can you go over to the Caravan and see if it’s what you want,” Nevio said to me, but he was only looking at the man.

“We don’t want trouble,” I said, giving Nevio a pleading look. The look in his eyes reminded me of the night of our twelfth birthday.

Nevio gently pushed me away. I took a few steps back.

The Slavic men still didn’t understand the severity of their situation. “Just sell the caravan to us,” I said.

“Let me fuck your ass, then we can talk money.”

The man opened his arms invitingly.

Nevio grabbed one of his wrists and tossed the man down so he braced himself on his hands then he smashed his foot down on the man’s elbow. I backed away as screams filled the night. Blades flashed, laughter sounded, bones broke, and then silence fell over us.

Nevio sheathed his knife and stalked toward me, turning me away from the bloody scene and steering me toward the caravan. I glanced back and caught Massimo throwing money on the ground beside the bodies. Then he and Alessio jogged after us.

The caravan smelled of weed and cold smoke and the chassis squeaked every time we moved.

“We should burn the bodies,” Alessio said, taking out his favorite lighter.

“Let them rot in the sun tomorrow. I heard there are a few shady characters in this area that have been doing unregistered business. This’ll send them a nice message.”

“You know what our fathers think of us doing this without telling them.”

Nevio snatched the lighter out of Alessio’s hand, with a cluck. Alessio tried to get the lighter back from Nevio and they began to shove each other, but I could tell they were high on adrenaline and not out for a real fight. Massimo let out a shrill whistle from the bedroom of the caravan to get their attention. “They have quite a stash of weed here. No wonder they didn’t want to sell the caravan.”

Nevio and Alessio went over to him, completely forgetting about the lighter they’d dropped during their grappling match.

I put it in my pocket and sank down on the steps of the caravan and looked off into the distance, trying to ignore the bodies sprawled on the ground in my peripheral vision.

When a pained yowl caught my ears, followed by another and then an ear-piercing scream that sounded almost human though I knew it was a dog, I began running, not even thinking about it. I’d never run this fast in my life but I knew I didn’t have much time. I turned a corner into an abandoned alley and my pulse jerked higher, adrenaline spiking higher than I’d ever experienced. Two men stood over a dark dog which was crying like a baby and twisting on the ground, obviously unable to get up. One of them poured liquid over the dog from a canister. Gasoline. They were going to burn the dog alive. The other kicked the suffering creature into the side. Shrieking, I stormed toward them and barreled into the man with the canister. He stumbled backward and fell over his own feet, landing on his back, spilling the rest of the gasoline over himself.

“What the fuck, you fucking cunt!”

His friend laughed. “Tiny girl wants trouble.” He made a move as if he wanted to kick the dog again. I lunged at him, the rushing in my ears quietening down until there was nothing. Until I felt nothing, until I heard and saw nothing but the poor creature on the ground and the two monsters torturing it. He laughed again, widening his eyes comically.

“Fuck, help me. I’m covered in gasoline!” the other man screamed.

I collided with the guy but he braced himself for the impact. He gripped me by the hair and held me away from him, then he slapped my face hard.

“Motherfucker!” Nevio roared somewhere behind us in the alley. Then three sets of steps stormed toward us.

I didn’t feel the pain in my scalp or anywhere else. I stared up at the guy and then I sunk my teeth into his arm as hard as I could. He roared and released me but I didn’t let go until a piece of his flesh ripped off then I dropped to the ground and spit it out.

The dog lifted its head a couple of inches, meeting my gaze. His hind legs looked broken and his tail was burnt. I shoved my hand into my pocket and took out Alessio’s lighter. I met the gaze of the man on the ground who was trying to get out of his gasoline-soaked jacket. With a flick of my thumb, I opened the lighter, bringing the flame to life. I watched it snatching at the air hungrily, ready to destroy and consume.

The man’s eyes latched on to mine, growing wide with panic. “No, plea—"

I hurled the lighter at him. With a whoosh he burst into flame.

I watched as he jumped to his feet, screaming at the top of his lungs, hitting at the flames that were ripping at his flesh. He staggered toward us.

“Damn it!” Nevio snarled. He picked up a steel rod from the ground and struck out like a baseball player, hitting the burning man’s head. As if a plug had been pulled, the burning body dropped to the ground. I watched as the flames consumed the body.

“Your turn,” Nevio told the other guy, taking out his knife.

“Make it quick but painful,” I heard myself say as I crawled over to the dog and touched its neck. It trembled. “We need to get the dog medical help.”

“Quick isn’t my thing,” Nevio muttered but his eyes were on me with an intense worry I’d never seen on his face before.

Massimo stepped forward, pulled out his raptor claw and dragged it along the man’s abdomen. His bowels spilled to the ground. “Done.”

“Where’s the next vet?” Alessio asked.

“Call our doc,” I said. Our Camorra doctor was always the quickest to respond to emergencies. Even if this wasn’t a human patient, he’d come if we called.

They exchanged a look but Massimo picked up his mobile and agreed upon a meeting spot with the doctor close by. It was one of the fully equipped hospital rooms that the Camorra had all over the city.

“We have to carry the dog to the car,” Alessio said.

“It’ll be too painful for him.”

“Let me grab my kit from the car,” Massimo said and jogged away. Alessio grabbed his lighter from the ground and lit a cigarette before he walked around the burned body, shaking his head.

Nevio still only watched me.

The stench of burnt flesh registered on me for the first time. My chin was sticky. I wiped at it with the back of my hand and even in the dim street light I could tell it came away stained with blood.

I dropped my hand, felt the terrifying urge to get rid of this limb, somehow. My eyes darted to Nevio’s knife that he was still holding in his hand. He clucked his tongue, bringing my focus back up to his face. He pocketed the knife then came over to me, got down on his knees and ripped a piece off of his shirt, then rubbed first my hand then my chin clean with it.

He motioned at the bodies. “These are mine.”

I didn’t understand.

“Forget what happened. They are on me.”

“No,” I said, still patting the dog’s neck.

“Don’t argue. My darkness spilled over. It wasn’t you.”

Was it Nevio’s darkness? Or was it mine?

Massimo jogged over to us, pulled a syringe from his medical kit and injected the dog. Then he prepared an infusion which he attached to the dog’s front leg. I watched but didn’t ask. I knew what they were doing by night, and these tools usually weren’t for saving a life.

I got up, feeling hollow. My always overactive mind was quiet. My legs were steady. My body didn’t react as it should with revulsion, with heart pounding and sickness, with cold sweat and goose bumps. In that moment I felt nothing. I was empty, as if everything that had made me me had been erased by what I’d done.

Massimo picked up the dog and I carried the infusion. Nevio never left my side, watching me as if he worried I’d break down. I wouldn’t. Not today.

I rode in the truck bed beside the dog and touched her neck to assure myself that she was still alive while I held the infusion up. The dog was breathing slowly but steadily, relieved of its pain. She was black with a few random white spots like a cow. “I’ll call you, Dotty, okay? You’re going to live with me and my family, and no one’s ever going to dare hurting you again.”

We arrived at the designated meeting space a few minutes later. Our Camorra doctor and a nurse were already waiting for us there. But so were Dad and Savio.

I could see the concern on Savio’s face. Maybe one of the boys had sent them a text or called them, and told them what had happened. The nurse and doctor rushed forward with a stretcher, not questioning why they had to take care of a dog. I handed the nurse the infusion and hopped off the truck bed. Massimo had already walked over to Savio and Dad, and was talking to them.

“You have blood on your face, let me take a look at you to make sure you’re not hurt,” the doctor said, reaching out for me without permission.

“No,” I growled, backing away. “I’m fine, it’s not my blood.” I swallowed and smiled weakly at him, motioning at the dog. “Please take care of her.”

When I looked up from Dotty, Dad’s gaze hit me and I lowered my eyes to my feet. I swallowed thickly.

I focused on Dotty and followed the doctor and nurse inside the former warehouse now hospital unit. I sank down on a hard plastic chair and watched as the doctor got to work. X-Rays, ultrasound, examination of the burns and broken bones.

Raised voices drew my attention to the front of the warehouse where Dad was obviously arguing with Nevio. It wasn’t Nevio’s fault. Savio headed for me with a reassuring smile. He squatted before me as if I was a small kid. In their minds I’d probably never lost the status of one, because they thought I was frail and breakable. Innocent. Kind.

I hoped Dad would take a close look at what I’d done, so he’d stop putting me on a pedestal.

“Hey, dollface, how ya doing?”

Dollface. That was still his nickname for me, and sometimes the rest of my family used it too. Because I was pretty and tiny. Because I was sweet. Because I seemed breakable at first glance.

“I killed a man today by burning him alive,” I said because it was the only answer I could give Savio at the time. I didn’t feel much of anything at the moment.

Savio nodded, still smiling. He touched my hand which rested on my leg. “Yeah, so we heard.” He tilted his head. His brown eyes remained kind. He didn’t look disgusted, only worried.

“Dad shouldn’t blame Nevio. It’s not his fault.”

Savio chuckled, glancing to the front where Nevio and Dad were still at it.

“Your brother hasn’t been the best example. His track record is really messed up.”

“That might be true, but it has nothing to do with what happened today.”

“You can tell your Dad that.”

Dad was moving toward me, his expression troubled, but also lingering with anger. I knew the latter wasn’t directed at me. Savio got up and gave Dad and me space. Dad pulled me to my feet and hugged me tightly. Then he pushed me back a bit and searched my face. I allowed him to look at me, so he could search for whatever he was hoping to find.

“Don’t fight with Nevio because of me. It wasn’t his fault.”

Dad’s expression tightened. “That’s hard to believe given his usual activities.”

“I did it. Not him.”

“It definitely wasn’t just Nevio. I certainly can be blamed too.”

“If it’s genetic, then you couldn’t have done anything different.”

Dad shook his head with a sharp laugh. “You’ve been spending too much time with Nino.”

I glanced past Dad, toward the doctor who was coming our way. “I have to amputate half of the tail, so maybe you should go outside while I do.”

He meant me. Dad would hardly be bothered by the sight.

“I want to stay,” I said.

The doctor looked at Dad for confirmation, and Dad nodded.

“Why did you kill him?”

I pursed my lips, trying to determine the reason for my actions. In that moment when I’d tossed the lighter at the man, I hadn’t really thought much. I’d acted out of rage and despair.

“I don’t know if I wanted to kill him. I wanted to inflict the same pain on him that he’d inflicted on the dog.”

Dad nodded. “But by setting someone on fire, you take killing them into account.”

“Yes.” I’d known he’d die. It was the consequence of my actions but not their purpose. “I’m not sad that he’s dead.”

Dad remained silent. “But you regret using violence?”

I nodded. “I still don’t like violence. I still don’t want to hurt others…I…”

“That’s what makes the difference, mia cara. You acted out of kindness even if your actions were anything but.”

“I burnt someone because I wanted them to experience the pain they’d caused another creature.”

“Next time you want to punish someone who hurt an animal or person, tell me, your brother or one of your uncles and we’ll handle them.” He kissed my forehead.

I nodded, because I knew it was what Dad wanted. He thought he needed to protect me and stop me from doing something I didn’t want to do. But in that moment, I’d wanted to hurt the man in the worst way possible. Now? I hoped I’d never feel the urge again but I knew I wouldn’t ask Dad or my uncles to step in instead either. I didn’t want them to have more blood on their hands because of me.

My eyes settled on my hand. It was still slightly pink. Nevio’s shirt hadn’t rubbed away all traces of blood. “My face?” I asked.

Dad turned to Savio. “Give me a wet towel.”

Savio went over to a sink and came back with a soaked towel. Dad cleaned by face gently then his hand froze. He touched my cheek. “What happened there?”

“The man I killed hit me.”

“You showed him mercy by what you did. I would have made his end much more excruciating than what he experienced.”

I knew it was true. I also knew it didn’t diminish my guilt.

“Does Mom know?” I asked. Mom always worried about Nevio. If she found out I’d burned someone, she’d be heartbroken. I didn’t want her to suffer because of me.

“Not yet,” Dad said. “And I’m not sure I’ll tell her.”

I hugged my middle. “You shouldn’t lie to Mom. She’ll be furious if she ever finds out.”

“I prefer her fury to her worry.”

“She’ll worry if she finds out. But if she finds out later, she’ll worry too.”

“Do you want me to tell her?”

I swallowed. “I don’t want it, but I know you should tell her.”

“I won’t.” He nodded toward Dotty. “You probably want to adopt that dog as well?”

“Yes. I have to keep her as a reminder of what humans are capable of, myself included.”

Dad touched my cheek. “It won’t happen again. I know you’ve been suffering in silence for a while and not talked to anyone. Today was the result of that.”

I’d hoped Dad and the others hadn’t noticed that something was wrong with me, but apparently my anguish had been too strong to keep it hidden. My feelings for Amo hadn’t vanished in weeks or months, my heartbreak was still as potent as it had been in the beginning. It didn’t make sense.

“He needs to stay under surveillance for another day before he can go home with you,” the doctor told me, once he’d bandaged the tail and the dog’s two broken hind legs.

“Will she walk again?”

“Yes, but it’s likely that she’ll have a bad limp.”

Dogs were resilient. I’d do anything in my power to help her heal, not just physically. “I’ll stay with her.”

“Take them home,” Dad told Savio, pointing at Nevio, Massimo and Alessio.

Nevio stalked toward us, shaking his head. “I’m staying.” He stopped right in front of Dad, challenge in his eyes. Dad smiled dangerously.

“I need him,” I whispered.

Dad sighed. Nevio sank down beside me and wrapped his arm around me. I put my head down on his shoulder, but I didn’t find the comfort I needed.