“You’re a regular Sherlock Holmes. Okay. You think we should—”
But just as Nick is about to concede to my genius idea, the door swings open, and our fucking mark walks right out, carrying a big black garbage bag stuffed full and straining against the contents.
He stares at us. We stare at him.
He throws the bag at my head and starts running, shoving me aside hard so I trip over my own feet and land ass-first in a puddle of what I think must be old, sticky garbage juice. Nick’s right on him, though, like a charging bull, and he catches the kid easily before slamming him against the brick wall on one side of the alley.
“Ow,” I call down to them, and then I pick myself up, try not to think about what the hell is stuck to my ass, and walk back down the alleyway, rubbing my sore wrist. I reached out to catch my fall and jarred it.
Nick is holding the kid mashed up against the wall with fists in his apron, so high that the guy is on his tiptoes. The kid is beating on Nick’s chest like that will help him in any way, but he might as well be bashing against the brick wall behind him. Nick is ignoring him completely, looking at me.
“You okay?” he demands.
“Yeah. My pants might need a visit to the ER, though. I don’t know what the fuck I just sat in.”
“Let me go!” the kid hacks out, but when Nick turns his glare back on him, he quails. “Please don’t kill me, Mr. Fontana,please—”
“You know who I am.”
“Of course I do! Everyone knows you, Mr. Fontana!”
“Did you send me some fan mail?” When the answer is not immediate, Nick gives him another shove. “Answer the fucking question!”
“Ease up on him, Nicky,” I say, putting my hand on his forearm. This guy is going to piss himself any second now, and I can’t help feeling sorry for him. He’s already got a black eye that looks a few days old. “It’s Matt, isn’t it? You were at the wedding at Villa Alessi recently?”
Nick lets the guy back down to the ground to stand on his own feet, but keeps hold of him. Matt looks back and forth between him and me and then nods quickly.
“And did you send Nick here some…instructions?”
He opens his mouth, but before he can answer, he starts crying.
“Jesus Christ,” Nick sighs, and lets him go.
Matt lifts up his dirty apron to wipe his face and then nods. “I d-did, but I never thought you’d find out it was m-me. I thought you’d j-just kill my father—”
“What the fuck?” I murmur.
“—and that’d b-be the end of it all and I…” He looks to Nick with an appeal in his eyes. “Please, Mr. Fontana, I never meant to get you in any trouble, I was never gonna send that video to anyone. I swear to God.”
Nick frowns. “And what about Carlo, here? You were just trying to get him alittlebit killed? Huh? What exactly did you have on Gatti to make him do your bidding?”
Matt gapes at Nick, gulping for air. “What?” he says at last.
“You blackmailed Ray Gatti into coming for me,” I prompt. “Like you blackmailed Nick into killing—yourdad, which, holy shit, kid, you are fucked up. We all hate our fathers, but goddamn, we live in a civilized society. You don’t solve your Daddy Issues by having himkilled. Therapy is—”
“Bianchi,” Nick growls. “Let the kid talk.”
Matt is shaking his head frantically. “I didn’t ask anyone to kill you, Mr. Bianchi, I swear. I swear on my mother’s grave.” A look of such bitterness passes over his face then that I blink. “That’swhyI want him dead. My father. He killed my mom, and he’s going to kill the rest of us, too.”
I take a closer look at him, at that black eye, at the long white scar running down his cheek, the bruises on his neck. His nose is swollen. I remember sitting there flirting with him at the bar, thinking his bruises made him sexy, and I feel sick.
“Your dad did this to you?” Nick asks, reaching out to touch Matt’s face.
Matt flinches and pulls away. “Yeah. He starts drinking, he gets violent. And he’s always drinking. My mom is already in the ground and I have four brothers and sisters, all younger than me. I gotta dosomething.”
“You know, Child Protection—” I begin, but both Matt and Nick give me a withering look. I drop it.
“So you decided to risk blackmailingme?” Nick asks him. “Big call, kid.”
