Like I’m pouring salt on a wound.
He nods once and walks out, leaving me alone with my guilt and regret.
I sink into his chair and succumb to the emotions.
I weep for Rocco, for the years we've all lost, and for the broken pieces of what could have been a family.
LUCA
I’ve waited so fucking long to hear her tell me she loves me.
I won’t deny wanting to take her in my arms and promise her the world. But once again, life is a giant fucking shitshow.
If I were a spiritual man, I’d think God was against me.
I’m in my car, heading back to who knows where. All my leads have dried up.
My phone buzzes, Roman's name flashing across the screen. I poke the answer button on my steering wheel.
"I found something," Roman says. "The Santa. One of my guys spotted someone matching his description at a motel off Route 9."
I'm already making an illegal U-Turn, nearly ramming a limo. "Text me the address. I'm on my way."
“Marco and I are on the way. If you get there first, wait?—”
I hang up the call. My son doesn’t have time for me to wait for anyone.
The drive blurs past.
All I can think about is Rocco scared and alone.
All because I was in a pissing contest with Dom.
No wonder Elena didn’t want to tell me about the kids.
She’s right.
My pride has gotten in the way of doing what’s best for the kids.
I love you. I always have.
Dammit.
I come to a screeching halt in the parking lot.
The motel is exactly what you'd expect, peeling paint, flickering vacancy sign, the kind of place that charges by the hour.
Fuck. What room is he in?
A black SUV pulls in and Roman steps out.
“Marco is stuck in traffic.” He nods toward the motel. "Room 14. Manager confirmed the guy checked in this afternoon wearing a Santa suit. Paid from a wad of cash.”
“He didn’t see Rocco?” I ask, scanning for room 14.
“No, but he says that doesn’t mean a boy wasn’t with him.” Roman puts his hand on my shoulder. “I know what you’re feeling, man?—”
“I don’t know how you could.”
