“Yeah, no worries,” the cop says.
I can’t ask his name. I don’t want to hear him telling his Mom he’ll bring her medicine tomorrow. I don’t want to listen to a conversation I’ll never have with mine.. I didn’t get the chance to be a good son to her.
My phone dings and I know it’s Mateo starting the countdown. One hour. That’s what that warning is. When the cop comes back in, I motion to dinner, then slip out the back door to call Emilia.
It’s a risk. I know that, but I memorized her number for a reason. If I do this, I’m a traitor. If I do this, I’m as much a stranger to my father as she is. I will be ignoring my blood ties ... but I’ll be protecting the mafia. I’ll be protecting the people that rely on us.
There are more important things than blood.
“Hello–One second, Paperotta. You’re doing well with spelling. You don’t need me–Hello?” Emilia asks.
I’ve never heard her voice so soft andwarm for anyone. I sigh. “And you said you wouldn’t be a good mother.”
Her silence answers me.
“No kind words for your big brother?”
“What do you want?” she demands.
“I want you to put your detective to work,” I admit.
“If this is a fucking test, or if you’re going to try to–no, don’t say that word, your dad will ...” Emilia sighs. “Well, now I’m in trouble with said detective. I’m not putting him in danger.”
“Father’s trying to make me a ghost and doesn’t care about the fallout. There’s an innocent kid here on his first job as a cop,” I whisper.
“And you care?”
“Shockingly, yes. This is a stupid plan and I know you see it too. This only serves Dad. It’s a stupid play because he thinks we’re going to die and his legacy will be gone.”
“You’ve always been his favorite little soldier. Why are you rebelling now?” Emilia asks.
I grit my teeth. “Guilt’s a bitch.”
“Yeah. Welcome to the traitor’s side. Right now, though, Eric is at work. Theyknow something’s going on, but you know how to deal with this kind of attack. You know how they’re going to approach, how they’ll throw themselves into action.”
“Of course I do, so-”
“Use it against them, Angelo. I shouldn’t have to spell it out. Haven’t I proven that knowledge is power? You know the weaknesses in the plan. You know your home’s layout. Make them regret ruining what you’ve built,” Emilia orders.
The sound of that, of even a slight bit of revenge, lifts my spirits. “Talk to you soon, sister.”
“I’ll fake cry at your funeral if you fail,” she promises.
“So loving,” I say.
I take a breath, then watch the clock count down as I check my accounts, make sure that my safe is secure, ensure that my important items are insured even though I’m sure they won’t survive.
When we’re down to two minutes before the attack, I grab the officer and motion to the pool, telling him he’s welcome to use it.
He says something about not being able to swim and a shot is fired. It rips through glass, but the second one comes faster than Iplan and rips through my arm. I hiss, then throw the officer in the pool.
I dive after him, but hold him down, motioning for him to calm as gunshots shake the ground.
After a long moment, I pull the cop up to the surface, hear someone yell in Italian and look at the cop. “Take a deep breath.”
He doesn’t question it. He obeys and I crowd him against the wall, protecting him with my body. It’s going to be a long night.
TEN
