There’s nothing I can think to say to that. I just hold my head in my hands wishing I could just get the fuck out of here and take Felony with me.
“Go home for the night, Corrado. Tomorrow, I’m calling the rest of the families for a sit down. Whoever this is got themselves into a war they’re not going to win.”
* * *
It’smidnight and there’s someone knocking lightly on my door. I’m in my jeans and nothing else, stretched out across my bed watching Netflix when I hear it.
Do killers knock?
Tony never knocks when he wants to get in a room. Why the fuck would the Russians?Maybe they got manners.
I slide my gun off the nightstand and carry it in my hand. I’m not shoving it down my waistband like I usually would. Fuck that. If I’m dying tonight, someone’s coming with me.
I look through the peephole and all I see is a mess of wild black hair half tied up into a bun.
“Hey,” Felony says when I open the door.
“What’s going on? Everything okay?” I ask, searching the hallway and staircase behind her.
“Yeah, oh yeah, yeah. Um…Tony just asked me to drop this off to you on my way home.” She hands me a thick manila envelope. “He…he still thinks we’re together, so I mean, I guess that’s why he sent me here.” She laughs nervously. “I didn’t know where you lived, I had to ask the girls. They didn’t know either. Well, Tatiana did. She told me. I…I didn’t want to ask Tony because that would look…” Her eyes look so wide and innocent, it makes me want to pull her inside.
“Yeah, good call. Tatiana’s probably the only one of the girls who knows where I live. She stayed here for a few weeks. Her boyfriend roughed her up pretty bad one night…so I helped her out.” I take the envelope, I know what’s inside—it’s probably ten to twenty grand for me to put aside for Tony’s extra-curricular activities from his wife.
“You’re a real stand-up guy.”
I can’t help stare at her. She’s in my doorway and all I want to do is kiss her but the need to shove her far away is stronger.
“You’re alone?” she asks.
Shit. “Yeah,” my voice cracks.
"Why is that?" she asks in a whisper.
"I'm the only one I trust." I don’t mean to say it, but it comes out—the truth.
"Want some company for a bit?" she asks softly.
Her eyes trail down to my chest and stop and stare. I know what she sees. She sees two names written in thick dark script. Angelo and Giana. Her eyes travel down across the scar I got from a knife fight when I was seventeen, then back up to the names. She takes a step closer and skims a finger over Angelo, then Giana. My entire body shivers. "Someone important?" she asks.
"They were everything to me."
Her brow creases. She doesn’t understand. “They are everything to you? Or they were?” She takes another step closer and crosses the threshold to my apartment.Shit, if she stays…
“Are, they still are. They were both murdered. Years ago. You’ve heard the stories and we’ve talked about—”
“You had their names tattooed on you all this time? Why?”
I rub my hand over Giana’s name. “So I never forget them. So they’ll be a part of me until I see them again. So they could live on, here, with me.”
She pushes past me in to the apartment. Her expression is unreadable. I’m not sure if she’s jealous. I would understand that. She’s up against a ghost, and the truth is, no one will ever match up to either of them. No friend, no brother, and no lover. I’m going to die alone. Just like Angelo and Giana did.
“If you could have them back, would you?”
I stepped back. “What kind of question is that?”
“If you could have one more day with them—if you could—”
My heart pounds in my ears. My chest aches with fire.What the fuck kind of questions are these?“The day I would choose would bethatday. The day they died. If I could, I would jump in front of those bullets and take each and every one.” I can barely spit out the words. “If I could just have one more day with my best friend, Jesus. I would do anything. But Gi? I’d give up everything—anything just to have one fucking night with her—with the woman she should have been if she fucking lived.And my sisters? God, my baby sisters.”
