For now.
EPILOGUE
TEDDY
It’s beenseveral weeks since I moved into Alessandro’s apartment. I talked about getting somewhere on my own, but he wouldn’t hear of it—and honestly, I feel much safer with him, anyway. I could definitely have afforded a nice place, though;Cute Crimslost a few super-users after a brief flame war about censorship around the Castellani and Morelli Families, but it’s picked up several more. Business is booming.
Pepperoni_lover hasn’t logged in since the day Craig Barbieri was killed.
Barbieri’s death hasn’t been reported at all in the news, although it was noted on some internal FBI memos that I managed to get hold of, and the official story is that he was killed in the line of duty. I haven’t told Alessandro, but I’ve been keeping tabs on my mother, too.
It’s strange—I feel almost nothing now when I think of her, but there’s some part of me that still wants to know what she’s doing, even if just to reassure myself that she’s not going to try to make trouble for Alessandro and me. Shewasput on administrative leave, just like she said she would be, but only for a few days. You wouldn’t know she lost a partner, let alone a son, except for the fact that she’s put in for a transfer, back to the East Coast.
I was more sad when Alessandro’s mother left, but she texts me regularly, and has suggested that we come and visit her during the masquerade season in Venice. It sounds very exciting. I give her what small personal updates I can on Alessandro, while keeping Family business private.
And I’ve decided tocarpe diem, seize the day. Every moment I have with Alessandro I intend to make as full of joy as possible. I never want him to have a moment’s doubt that he is loved, that he is desired, and that he is precious to me.
As part of that regime, I’ve started blowing him every morning when he wakes up. I love it just as much as he does, and I have a lot of techniques that I plan to try out.
I might have been a virgin into my twenties, but I’m sure making up for lost time now.
* * *
One evening I ask Alessandro if he knows where Marty Gargiulo is buried. “Or interred? I don’t know what his family did for him…”
He raises his eyebrows, but all he says is, “The Espositos usually attend St. Michael’s, I believe, out in the Valley. We might find him there.”
I look up at him. We are lying on the couch, watching the evening news. “We?”
“Perhaps it’s time I paid my respects to the man as well,” he says. “I know he meant a lot to you. I’d like to thank him for protecting you when you were a child.”
My eyes prickle, and I look back to the TV. “I’d like that,” I tell him.
“Teddy.” He sounds hesitant. “I should tell you, my motives for going are twofold.”
“You’re thinking you can reach out to the Espositos?” I guess.
“Yes. The thought has crossed my mind. But if you’d rather go alone, if it’s not appropriate for me to come along, I’ll understand.”
I hug him tight. “I want you to come,” I tell him, muffled in his neck.
“Then I’ll come. Ah—a moment.”
Someone is calling him. Jack, by the sounds of the conversation. I wait patiently as Alessandro speaks, but my anxiety begins to spike as his voice gets tighter and tighter. “What do you mean, gone?” he says. “How long…I see.” Another long pause, and then he says softly, “If Julian has betrayed us, he knows as well as anyone what will happen to him. Keep looking. Keep me informed.”
He ends the call and stares into the distance, only looking down at me when I take his hand.
“What is it? Is everything okay?”
“It’s my brother,” he says. “He’s…gone. Disappeared. Jack tells me that no one has been able to find him for several days.” He sounds so troubled, I lean in to hug him.
“Maybe he found a lead about his mother’s death?” I suggest.
“Maybe.” Alessandro does not sound convinced.
“You think he’s in trouble?”
He’s silent so long that I let him go and look into his face. “Maybe,” he says again. But then he shakes his head and smiles at me. “That’s a problem for another day. Tonight, I want to enjoy you,topolino.”
