28. Vinnie

28

VINNIE

I actually get home in time for dinner.

"Hey, Mom," I call.

"Vincent, darling." My mom walks toward me swiftly and gives me a hug. "It's so great to see you here. Luisa made one of her Italian feasts. I know how much you love Italian."

The aroma is absolutely tantalizing, yet it does nothing for me. "I'm not too hungry, Mom."

She furrows her brow. "You have to eat. You need to keep your strength. And tomorrow…"

"What about tomorrow?"

"Don't you remember? It's visitors' day. We're going to see your father in prison."

I draw a breath. Shit. I forgot. "Sure, Mom. When do you want to leave?"

"First thing in the morning. We can see him as early as nine o'clock."

"All right. I'll have to call Grandfather and tell him I won't be in."

She casts her gaze to the floor. "I hate that man."

All I can do is nod.

We both know how I feel about him. My mother doesn't know everything he put me through before I left the country. She'll never know. I can't do that to her.

"I hate that you have to do this, Vinnie," she says. "If Savannah had just done her duty and married that McAllister boy?—"

I hold up my hand to stop my mother. "You mean the guy who tried to rape her? Give it a rest, Mom. I'm home, and I'm glad to be home. But I won't have you talking about Savannah that way. She's with the man she loves, and she deserves that much."

She crosses her arms. "Your father's in prison because of her."

"Dad's in prison by his own decision. I would've done the same thing if it had come to that. Doesn't someone in this family deserve to be happy?"

My mother sighs. "I know I sound punitive. I do love your sister." She gazes out the window into our backyard. "She was my little girl. And I let her have a childhood. I let her have an amazing childhood until we were forced to move here to Austin right before her senior year of high school. She had to leave all of her friends in Long Island, and she was the new girl at school. I don't think she ever got over that." She turns to me. "Your father coddled her, Vinnie. He let her off the hook at eighteen, and then again at twenty-two. And then again… When she wanted to leave her job as a parole officer here in Austin. Your father let her go."

"Except that he didn't."

She looks down. "There were…extenuating circumstances."

I lift my eyebrows at my mother. "How would you know that? Dad and Grandpa haven't told you anything, have they?"

"I just know the way things are, Vinnie." She leans on the counter. "I was born into this life and I've lived it for all of my fifty-four years. Your father had a soft spot for Savannah. He would've never gone back on his promise and tried to force her into that marriage if his hands hadn't been tied."

I draw in another breath. I'm pretty sure my mother is speaking the truth. What was it that drove Grandfather to the point where he decided to expand the business beyond drugs?

Something's going on that I don't know about, and I intend to find out everything.

But the first thing I need to do is find a friend. A friend in law enforcement—local, state, and federal.

Because I'm going to do something that I'm going to need immunity for.

I open my mouth to say something when my phone buzzes with a text.

I pull it out of my pants pocket and take a look. It's Raven.

Call me when you get the chance.

Raven? She wouldn't text me unless it was something important. My God… Is she still at the Puzos' place?

"Excuse me for a minute, Mom."

She nods and heads back to the kitchen. "Come join me for dinner when you're ready."

I nod back at her and then punch Raven's number into my phone, bringing it to my ear.

"Hello?" Her voice shakes a little.

Maybe it's just my imagination.

"Raven, it's Vinnie. I just got your text."

She clears her throat. "Oh, good. It was nice to see you today."

"Great to see you too."

"I was wondering… I don't mean to be forward or anything, but would you like to come to my place for dinner Friday evening?"

My heart skips a beat. "So you canceled your date?"

"Yeah, I did. I think I'd much rather spend the evening with you."

Her voice sounds off. I made it pretty clear that what happened between us couldn't happen again. Of course, the tightness in my groin proves my cock didn't get that message. But Raven got it, and she's not an unreasonable person. Why is she asking me to dinner then?

And why do I want to go more than I want to breathe? Something's not right here.

"Sure, Raven. I'd be happy to come."

"Great." Although the tone of her voice doesn't sound like it's great.

"What time?" I ask.

She pauses. "How about around six thirty? Do you remember the way to my place?"

Seriously? It's seared into my memory. "Yeah, I do. I'll see you then, Raven."

"Great." Again she doesn't sound like it's great. She clears her throat again. "See you then, Vinnie."

I end the call and shove my phone back in my pocket. Why did she sound so strange?

I can check in with Falcon later. See if he knows anything. Otherwise, I'll see her Friday night for our date.

I'm glad she decided to break the date with the lawyer. I have to say I'm surprised that she asked me out. She doesn't seem the forward type that way.

Then again… I hardly know her.

* * *

As I enter my grandfather's office the next morning, a question arises in my mind.

How many lives has he taken?

I'm sure he is responsible for the ending of many lives, but I want to know how many he personally has taken.

It's not my place to ask.

My only place is to prove my loyalty to him and the family. And to do that, I have to get rid of Puzo.

What my grandfather doesn't know is that I have already taken a life.

And if I found myself in the same circumstances? I would do it again.

But I can't get used to it. The problem with things you're not supposed to do is that once you do them, it's easier to do them again. You continue and you continue, and if you get away with it, you feel a little less guilt with each time you do it.

How do I take a man's life?

I've already determined that Puzo is hardly a pillar of society. The world will be a better place without him. Hell, the world would be a hell of a better place without my grandfather in it.

If only I could off him and get it over with.

But it's not that simple.

There are people in this organization who are loyal to my grandfather. Not to me yet.

But I will prove myself.

And his will be the last life I take.

My grandfather clears his throat. "I'm getting tired of waiting, Vincent."

"You want me to be careless about it? If so, I'll get it done this afternoon."

"You've been to his house twice."

"Yeah, and he's out of town." I take a seat across from him. "And by the way, I don't appreciate you watching me."

"How else am I supposed to be sure of your loyalty? Your trust?"

"By not watching me," I say. "I'm not a fucking kid, Grandfather. I'm no longer eighteen. I don't need a babysitter."

"Seems you may. Puzo is still among the living."

I open my mouth to say something, but he holds up a hand.

"I'm sick and tired of your excuses, Vinnie. You get it done today, or someone you care about may meet the same fate."

He's not talking about Savannah. She's his little cricket. And he's certainly not talking about his daughter, my mother.

He could be talking about Falcon. Or my father.

But my guess is that he's talking about Raven Bellamy.

"I've got to go," I say. "My mother and I are going to see my father in prison this morning."

"You want to waste your time with that?"

"He's your son-in-law. Your daughter's husband. And he's my father. So yes, I'm going to go see him, and I don't consider it a waste of time."

"You've got until midnight tomorrow night, Vinnie." He stands slowly, leering over the desk. "I want Puzo's head on a platter by then, or you will be sorry."

His words send a chill through me.

I don't doubt their veracity. My grandfather is evil incarnate. Fucking Lucifer himself.

And he doesn't make threats idly.

I rise without saying another word, walk out of his office, and then drive the few miles to pick up Mom.

She's waiting for me.

Her hands are on her hips. "Vinnie, where'd you go this morning?"

"I had to go see Grandfather. To tell him where I was going today."

"You couldn't have just given him a call?"

For being the daughter of this man, my mother doesn't know him at all. No, I couldn't just give him a call. He expects to see me first thing in the morning in his office every day. It's something I agreed to.

"I'm afraid it doesn't work that way, Mom. Come on."

I gave my driver a few hours off. I'm driving us to the prison myself. Of course, I know we'll be followed. Grandfather's watching my every move. But I feel this is something Mom and I need to do on our own.

It'll be our first visitation with him since he got incarcerated. He pleaded guilty to the murder of Miles McAllister, and he's in for life.

Of course, in our family, life means "until Grandfather is no longer pissed off at you."

Mom and I don't speak much during the drive, and when I pull into the prison parking lot, a heavy silence hangs in the car. The towering walls of the prison loom over us, ominous and foreboding. I glance at my mother. Her eyes are closed, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. She takes a deep breath, turning toward me with a hollow smile.

"Let's get this over with," she says, unbuckling her seatbelt.

We walk in silence on the concrete pavement. When we arrive, we're taken through several gates and checkpoints where guards give us scrutinizing stares before ushering us forward. Finally, we're led into a room filled with more guards, inmates, and their families. The room buzzes with hushed whispers.

My father sits at one of the tables, looking older and more haggard than I remember him. He's in a faded orange jumpsuit, and his elbows are on the table, his hands supporting his head. When he sees us, his eyes light up, but even the minute amount of joy seeing us has granted him can't extinguish the sadness dominating them.

"Vinnie," he says, standing to hug me. His grip is firm, a stark contrast to the frailty I see in his features.

He turns to Mom and takes her shaking hands in his. She can't bring herself to look at him. She just nods, tears streaming down her face.

"We're here for you," I tell him, voice steady despite the lump forming in my throat.

Dad takes a seat. "Where's Savannah?"

Mom frowns. "She couldn't get away. Something with Falcon's parents, I guess."

"She's devastated she couldn't make it, Dad, but she'll make the next visit," I say.

Dad nods sadly. "Of course. I know you can't all rearrange your lives around me."

Mom reaches forward and grabs his hand. "How are you doing here, sweetheart?"

Dad shakes his head. "I don't want to talk about my life here. I want to know how you are doing." He turns to me. "Is your grandfather treating you all right?"

I shrug. "He's treating me as well as he is capable of doing, I guess."

Dad then gives me an inquisitive look, as if he's tacitly trying to ask if my grandfather has given me any grisly assignments. I give him a curt nod, making sure Mom is looking away when I do. Dad's eyes get even sadder, but he reassumes his poker face quickly when Mom looks back.

"It's just wonderful to see you both." He looks at Mom. "How are things going in the home, honey?"

Mom sighs. "It's not the same without you, of course. But it is wonderful to have Vinnie with us again." Her face twists and she reaches into her bag for a tissue. "Of course, my dream would be to have all three of my men together again. You, Vinnie, and little Mikey." She dabs at her eyes. "But that of course can never happen."

Dad reaches forward, grabs her free hand. "You might get two out of three."

"You're in for life, Vincent."

"You know just as well as I do that I'm only in here as long as your esteemed father deems necessary for me to learn my lesson."

Mom blows her nose in the tissue. "That bastard will never let you out."

Dad and I both widen our eyes. It's not like Mom to use profanity, especially not about her own flesh and blood. Nobody speaks for a few endless minutes. Finally I decide to break the silence.

I uneasily pat my mother on the shoulder. "You never know, Mom. I'm doing my best to earn Grandfather's trust, and once I have it, I think I'll be able to use my influence to get him to help Dad get out of here."

Mom buries her face in her hands. "I never wanted this for any of my children."

"We saved Savannah, Mom. Who's to say we can't save the rest of you?"

Mom looks up. "But what about you , Vinnie? I can't allow you to take the fall for me or for your father."

"No good parent would," Dad agrees.

"Well, as it stands, I'm the only one who can . So I will." I look at the clock. "We're running out of time. Dad, is there anything else you wanted to catch up on?"

We chat inanely about nothing in particular for the remaining time allotted for visitors. But that's okay. It's nice to just spend some time with my father.

As our hour comes to an end, Mom excuses herself to go to the ladies' room. Dad pulls me aside. His expression is somber, his eyes bearing into mine. "Vinnie," he starts, his voice a mere whisper, "I know what your grandfather wants you to do. Don't let him push you into this. You're better than that."

I look away, the cold hardness of the prison walls mirroring the hardened resolve building within me. "Well, Dad," I murmur, "if I don't do it, he'll never trust me enough to give me the reins."

"You don't have to be part of this life," he says. "I didn't want this for you. I didn't want you to carry these burdens." His words hang heavy in the air between us.

"Being part of this family means carrying burdens," I reply, my voice hoarse. "You know that better than anyone."

Before he can argue further, a stern voice announces the end of visitation hours. I hug my father one last time, his whispered warnings still echoing in my ears. Mom returns, and they embrace. This time she meets his gaze.

"I love you, Caroline," he says.

"I love you too, Vince. So much."

The ride home is even quieter than the ride there. I glance at my mother as we pull into the driveway. She's staring out of the window with a glazed look in her eyes. Neither of us says a word as we make our way into the house.

Soon after, I find myself alone in Dad's study, nursing a glass of whiskey. I swirl it around in the glass, watching as it clings to the sides before sliding back down.

My father's words replay in my mind. "You're better than that."

Am I really? Or am I just deluding myself? This is the life we were born into, the world we inherited. Burdens and bloodshed, secrets and threats—they're in our veins, under our skin. We can't escape it any more than a wolf can escape its hunger.

As I take another sip of the whiskey, I look upward and stare at the spinning blades of the ceiling fan. They whirl around in an endless cycle, like our family caught in an unending loop of violence and power struggles. My grandfather's ultimatum echoes in my mind: Puzo's head on a platter by midnight tomorrow or else somebody I care about will meet their end.

Raven Bellamy.

The thought of her caught up in this makes my gut churn with dread. I empty the glass and pour myself another, trying to drown out my fears with alcohol. But it doesn't help. Nothing helps when you're living on borrowed time.

Time's up.

Raven Bellamy shouldn't be tangled up in this mess, our family mess, but she is. Because of me.

I'm the reason she's in danger, and I will be the one to ensure she gets out unscathed, whatever the cost.

My phone buzzes on the desk, snapping me out of my thoughts. It's a text message from an unknown number with a single sentence.

She's safe. For now.

Fear lances sharply through me, its icy grip squeezing my heart. She isn't safe, not as long as she's associated with me. I toss the phone onto my bed. How did it come to this? My vicious grandfather, my father rotting away behind bars, and now Raven—sweet, innocent Raven—caught in the crossfire of our familial warfare.

And what of the date with her tomorrow night?

I won't break it. If I'm with her, I can protect her.

So I need to take care of Puzo before then.

I swiftly type a reply.

I'll do what needs to be done.