I’ve been a man of violence my whole life. I haven’t wanted that violence to touch Finch, not after what happened to his mother. But during our time together he’s been tortured, threatened, seen people killed right in front of him, had attempts made on his life…
Because ofme.
“All I know is, I don’t want to live like this anymore. Hiding away, scared all the time…not forme,” he says impatiently. “Foryou. Every time you leave me I wonder if it’s the last time I’ll ever see you. Today, you got shot—”
“But I’m okay. And you know what, if assassins are coming after us here, the word is out about where we are. We might as well go back to New York.” I thought that news might cheer him up, but it doesn’t seem to work.
“And then what? It’s the same there. We’re not—we’re notsafe.”
“We will be. I promise you, baby bird. Wewillbe safe. I just need time to lay out my plans. Can you hang on a little while longer?”
He looks up at me and gives a sigh. “Of course I can. I made a vow, didn’t I?”
“Ride or die?” I ask with a small laugh.
But he nods so seriously that it kills my smile.
Chapter Thirty
Finch
That night Sonny Vegas comes personally to our suite to apologize on behalf of his city, and to assure us the man will be dealt with.
“No,” I say quietly, and for the first time since he’s entered the room, Sonny looks at me instead of at Luca.
“No,” Luca agrees. “Finch has advised me—as my consigliere, and I have accepted his advice—the man should not be harmed. Besides, I’d like to talk to him.”
“We,” I say heavily. “Wewould like to talk to him.”
Luca gives me a nod, and then we both look at Sonny Vegas.
“Certainly,” he says, with that sharky grin. “Only, you know, he’s a little dinged up. Maybe tomorrow, eh? Give the guy a night to recover.”
“And to think over his situation,” I say. “Please let him know that Don Luciano Morelli will be coming to visit him tomorrow. And Finch D’Amato, too.”
Sonny gives me an approving look. “I’ll do that. Yes, I’ll let him know. Well, goodnight, gentlemen—again, my sincere apologies. It makes me real angry to think you might’ve had a bad impression of my hometown.”
“Already forgotten,” Luca says, and the two shake hands. “Oh, and Sonny?” he says, as Sonny opens the door. “Make sure our man survives the night, won’t you? No opportunities for suicide—self-inflicted or otherwise.”
Sonny snorts and waves goodbye.
“And if heisfound conveniently dead in his cell tomorrow morning?” I ask Luca.
“Then we’ll know for sure that he was sent by Sonny, or one of his West Coast friends, and was killed to keep him quiet.”
“Or that someoneelse—”
“Angel,” he says, his voice calm. “Everything will be alright.”
I wish I could have the same confidence.
* * *
The detailsof who exactly is holding the man aren’t made very clear, but there sure aren’t any official law enforcers involved—onlyenforcers. I assume they must be Sonny’s men, since the holding room is in the basement of the Blue Luna Lux, and I recognize one of the Vegas Capos from the pre-dinner drinks the other night.
That gets me thinking: did Sonny invite all those soldiers before the dinner just to make sure they got a good look at Luca and me? So there’d be no doubt about the target for assassination?
I shake off the paranoia as much as I can in the elevator on the way down. We’re accompanied by the Capo, who stands close to the doors, facing determinedly away from us, and I wonder if it’s because he’s trying to show respect or if he hates us.
