“No, I haven’t. Westerns aren't usually my thing.”
He settled back against his pillow, and I adjusted the chair so my shoulder was supported by the edge of his bed. It was an interesting movie, but the genre wasn't really my thing, and it didn't take long for my eyelids to droop.
“You let her lay in your bed?”
It was Noah’s low voice, and he sounded annoyed. Embarrassment flooded through me at the thought I’d ended up on Benito’s bed, and my face flushed.
“What should I have done? She fell asleep watching the movie and sort of toppled over from the chair.”
“Whatever.”
Since they thought I was sleeping, I figured it would serve me well to keep up the pretense. I heard the rustle of Noah’s clothing as he passed by the bed.
“You wouldn't believe the state of the house. The entire second floor collapsed on top of the first. Hardly anything is salvageable.”
“I trust you stayed in a hotel last night?” Benito said quietly from beside me.
“Yes, and Vicki is staying at Gio’s.” Noah sighed. “I believe it was a drone I heard at the last minute, and it dropped some sort of missile. They must not have wanted us dead, or they would have simply incinerated us.”
“Have you found any evidence?”
“Barrett and Brennan are doing their thing. They found a few fragments of whatever detonated, but not enough to determine the manufacturer yet.”
I felt Benito lean forward. “Who the fuck is doing this to us?”
“I’d love to know the same. We haven't targeted anyone in years, Dad. We've kept our noses out of everyone else’s business since Mom died and we made our peace pact with the other families.”
“That guard never would tell us who he was working with,” Benito said, and his voice sounded strained. “No matter how hard I tortured him.”
“I suspected the Russos at the time, but I think the Lombardis actually have more of an issue with us.”
“Why would they feel the need to interfere with our arms deals? They have their drug deals going on, and they don’t push their shit to the Chinese. We’re not in competition."
My face burned even hotter, and I realized something that should have been quite obvious sooner.
When you dig through the dark, you’ll only find dark things. The mob was operating right under our noses and was somehow smart enough not to get caught. They operated in the shadows, their dealings never being brought to the light. At least two names—other than the Costas—had been thrown out there in the past minute, and I didn't know what to do with that knowledge. I had no doubt the feds already knew who else ran the city, but I was still expected to divulge any information I overheard while on my search.
And then I suddenly realized the Costas were speaking candidly without worrying about whether I was in the room. Sure, they thought I was asleep, but they hadn't bothered to check. No way they thought they could trust me enough to speak openly about what they actually did for a living, but they’d relaxed around me. Noah no longer hated my guts.
One thing was for certain: I couldn't turn them in after this. I couldn't metaphorically blow up what was left of their lives after they’d been literally blown up twice.
I simply couldn't.
“I don’t know, Dad,” Noah said, and he sounded as frustrated as I would expect. “At least you’re here where I know you’re safe.”
“This one has made sure I’m not being mistreated by Dr. Webster. I confirmed she’s an orphan, by the way.”
The sound of Noah pacing stopped. “What bearing does that have on us?”
“None, except to tell you I was right. Each time I’d try to ask about her family, she’d grow awkward and start to deflect. You know I’m sympathetic to someone who lost a family member.”
“I know,” Noah whispered. “It was awful when Mom died, especially knowing it was my fault it happened.”
“That shame lies on my head, son, not yours.”
“I was the one who did it. They wanted revenge against me.”
“At my orders,” Benito snapped, then lowered his voice. “The onus is on me.”
