She swallows. “That’s it?” she asks with a slight shake of the head, her mellow voice a little hoarse. “Just—‘okay, then’?”
“I’ll hold off on saying anything for an hour to the Morellis. But only an hour.”
She puts her gun away in her handbag and reaches for her laptop before I clear my throat. She withdraws her hand from the laptop. With an ironically apologetic smile, she says, “Habit.”
At the doorway, she pauses, turns back.
“Why?” she asks.
It’s a good question. And I don’t think she’d believe it if I told her I have a soft spot for her. “Game recognizes game,” I tell her at last. “Plus it’s valuable intel, what you told me about Louis Clemenza.”
She takes it in, her face still and unreadable. Then, with a swing of her ice-blonde hair, she turns and leaves.
It’s not until ten minutes later, when I get down to the lobby of the building and see Gio Carlucci leaning on a Morelli town car outside, that I realize how close I came to dying tonight.Again. Carlucci opens the back door for me with no comment and I dive in gratefully, like a kid pulling the blanket over his head so the monster can’t get him. Carlucci gets in the front and the sound of the central locking clunking brings such intense relief that, when I meet his eyes in the rear-view mirror, I start grinning. I let out a snort, and lean forward, my face in my hands, as I laugh and shake and let the adrenaline run its course.
“Man,” I chuckle, “you have no idea how much you just saved my ass.”
There’s no response, only a mechanical whirr, and when I look up, I see the privacy screen is going up. Carlucci watches me with careful eyes until the screen blocks them out and slides home with a soft thud. Before I can knock on it, the car starts moving and I fall back against the leather seat, my heart beginning to race again. Because my father would never have sent Gio Carlucci to pick me up. He would have sent one of the firm drivers.
I have no idea where Carlucci is taking me.
And when I check my phone, there’s still no word from Nicky.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Nick
Vitali comes back to watch over me once Luca’s gone, to make sure I don’t just slam the chair apart on the concrete floor, I guess. He pulls up another chair and sits in it, watching me, gun ready to go off if I look like I’m going to get a hand or a foot free.
We sit in silence for a long time before we hear a car pull up outside, doors slamming, the muttering of voices. Part of me wants to call out, tell Carlo to run if he has the chance, but I know there won’t be a chance. If I’m going to save his life tonight, I’ll have to do it here, in the warehouse. Maybe I can convince Luca to spare him. Maybe I can bargain for Carlo’s life or, more likely, if Finch is still here, he might speak for Carlo. Finch seems like the only ally I have left in the Morelli Family, but he’s not really a Morelli at all.
But then Teo Vitali clears his throat and leans forward a little. “Were you telling the truth?”
“About Carlo? Of course I was.”
“Not that.” He flicks the gun a little, dismissing my words. “I mean about this Dellacroce guy beating on his kids, killing his wife.”
“Yeah. I was telling the truth. You can go ask Matt Dellacroce yourself if you don’t believe me.”
Vitali frowns, and rubs his nose with the back of his non-gun hand. Maybe, I think, I do have another ally here. But it’s a little too late, because I can hear Carlo’s voice as he’s marched across the warehouse floor, through the boxes and the shelves to the center of the labyrinth where I’m waiting for him like a tamed, trussed-up Minotaur.
I lock eyes with him as soon as he appears. His face is pale, and Gio Carlucci has firm hold of his arm.
“Nicky?”
“You okay, Harvard?” I ask, my voice rough.
He considers the question for a moment. “I’ve had a weird night. Looks like you have, too.”
This is why I love him so much. He must be scared, but he’s not going to give our executioners the satisfaction of seeing it. Or maybe he thinks we’ll get out of this somehow. I know better. But I still hope that Carlo, at least, can walk away from here alive.
Luca is watching us with hooded eyes as Vitali stands to let Carlucci seat Carlo opposite me. They don't even bother to tie him up. I guess my brothers don’t see him as much of a threat. Having seen Carlo’s attack on Dellacroce with a wine bottle myself, I can’t exactly fault them.
“Get out,” Luca says. “Both of you,” he adds, when Vitali doesn’t turn immediately. “And keep my husband in that goddamn car.”
“Areyouokay?” Carlo asks me in a low, private tone, once Vitali and Carlucci have gone.
I’m just opening my mouth to answer when Luca takes two quick steps towards us, raising his gun to Carlo’s head. So instead of answering Carlo’s question, I find myself screaming at Luca to back the fuck off.
