Luca goes very still and I hold my breath as I see his fingers tighten on the grip of his gun.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Carlo
For a long moment, I think I’ve overplayed my hand. Luca D’Amato is looking at me like I’m an insect under a magnifying glass, and he’s deciding which of my legs to pull off first.
“I want to make it very clear toyou, Bianchi,” he says at last, “that I will overlook the threat you just made only because, as you say, you are valuable to the Family. But if you ever speak to me like that again, it will be the last thing you say. Do you understand me?”
“I do.”
“My husband,” he says, and then pauses. He squeezes his eyes shut and pinches the bridge of his nose for a moment. “My husband,” he continues, “also asked me to show mercy to this treacherous fuck. For Finch’s sake—for his sake alone, you understand?—I will allow Fontana to live. But I don’t want you—eitherof you—” For the first time in a long time, Luca looks at Nicky. “—to think that this means I will overlook your actions.”
“Of course not, Don Morelli,” I assure him. “Nicky and I both know we’ll have to work hard to regain your trust.”
“Oh, you’ll never have that again,” Luca says, sounding genuinely surprised that I’d even suggest it. “But you have, both of you, taught me a valuable lesson.” He turns to Nicky and looks him up and down. “I never should have allowed you so much power, Fontana. Never should have relied on you like I did. I won’t do that again. As for your position…” Nick waits silently, his face blank. “I’ll divide up your crews and your territories between the other Capos. You’re of some use to me as an Enforcer, but that’s all.”
“Thank you,” Nicky says, and he sounds sincere.
But I don’t like it. “If you’re leaving him alive, Don Morelli, you might as well get your money’s worth,” I say, matching my indifferent tone to Luca’s. I know I’m pushing it—I know my father would never in a million years offer advice to Don Morelli—but I am not my father.
Luca’s smile is empty when he turns back to me. “What exactly doyousuggest, Bianchi?”
“Nicky is one of the reasons new recruits even think about joining the Morelli Family. Matt Dellacroce would join in a heartbeat if Nicky asked him. And Sophia Vicente basically begged for his consideration.” Nicky sends me this injured look, since I’m not supposed to know about that. Hey, I listen at doors sometimes. You would too, if you thought someone was out to kill you. “Why not let him train up your new recruits?”
The fact that Luca doesn’t even blink when I mention Sophia makes him grow in my estimation, despite the fact that he very nearly killed Nicky tonight—and me. “You’re suggesting I provide Fontana an opportunity to build his own army of loyalists?” he asks.
“Come on, now,” I say, and I even smile a little. “You don’t think Nick wants your position. He’s happy being of service and working hard, but he doesn’t want to lead, and he’sdefinitelynot interested in playing politics with the other Families. But most of all, Don Morelli, you’re a pragmatist. If you have a racehorse, you race it. You don’t keep it locked up in the stables.”
He stares at me for a long moment until one word escapes his clenched teeth. “Noted.” Then, when I start to keep talking, his eyes flash with irritation. “Enough.” He reaches into his inner coat pocket and pulls out a flick knife.
Shit.
I misread this whole sceneentirely. I take an involuntary step back, putting my hands up, but before I can start pleading for my life again, he tosses the knife down on the cement floor between us. Then he turns his back on me and stalks off.
I watch him go and, when I finally turn around again to look at Nick, he’s still staring off in Luca’s direction.
“Nicky?”
He doesn’t seem to hear me. It’s so quiet in here now that I hear when the cars start outside and pull away from the warehouse. I turn back to Nick again, whose eyes have closed, his head hanging down, and force my legs to move. I’ve been frozen in shock since Luca just walked off, but now I lean down to grab the knife, then stumble over to Nicky and fall to my knees in front of him.
“Are you alright?” I ask, while start cutting him free. The myriad zip ties take some time to saw through, and Nick says nothing as I work. When the bonds come free from his wrists and I see how deeply the plastic has lacerated him, I lift his hands to my lips and kiss his wounds gently. “What does it mean?” I ask, not daring to look up into his face. “Is he—” I can’t say it. And I don’t dare to hope.
He frees one hand from my grip, but only so he can slide it through my hair, stroking the back of my head as though I’m the one who needs soothing. “He’s gone.” His hand leaves my head, slides under my chin to tip my face up so he can look at me. “That was the bravest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life.” I wait for him to add,and the stupidest, but he doesn’t.
I help pull him up from the chair. In the space of a day he’s fallen off a cliff, rowed out to sea and back, and now he’s been tied into a chair for a few hours. My own body aches in sympathy, but Nick just walks around shaking each limb, groaning in relief, reminding me of a bear coming out of hibernation. Then he comes back to me and wraps me up hard in his arms—a literal bear hug. I squeeze my eyes shut and try not to think how close we came to everything ending.
Nicky loosens up his grip and puts his forehead to mine. “Never thought I could love you more, Harvard.”
“And you,” I whisper, but I can’t talk about that, not now. I’m starting to get shaky and I need to concentrate on the practical shit so I don’t lose it entirely. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
* * *
I driveus back to his place, and I’m grateful it’s not Jonesy on the door when we go in through the lobby. Jonesy might be concerned enough to ask questions, given the state of us, but the guy on the desk tonight barely glances our way. “Evening, Mr. Fontana, Mr. Bianchi,” is all he says.
“Evening,” Nick says back. It’s the most he’s talked since we got into the car back in Brooklyn. As for me, I was too busy concentrating on the road to talk. It’s been a long time since I’ve driven a car anywhere, and the last thing I needed was a road accident.
I wait until we’re safely inside his apartment before I speak. “I need the bathroom. Bad.”
