"You don't get it, do you?"she snaps, her voice trembling with a mixture of anger and desperation."This isn't a life.It's a cage.And I can't—" She cuts herself off, shaking her head like she's trying to clear it."I won't do it.Especially with you."
The last part stings more than I want to admit."You think running is freedom?Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you're just running in circles."
Her jaw clenches, but I press on before she can interrupt.
"You've been running for years, Josephine.From your family, from me, from yourself.And where has it gotten you?"
She doesn't answer, but I can see the conflict in her eyes—the war between her desire for freedom and her growing recognition that escape isn't the same thing as liberation.
I step closer, lowering my voice so only she can hear me."You want freedom?Fine.But you're not getting it by hiding in alleys and slipping out back doors.If you want out, you're going to have to fight for it.And you can't do that alone."
Her eyes meet mine, and for a moment, something flickers there—doubt, maybe, or the first glimmer of hope that there might be another way.
"I thought we were fighting together," she whispers.
The vulnerability in her voice hits me like a physical blow."Me keeping your secret about where you were hiding is not fighting, Jo."I gently brush the side of her face with three of my fingers, feeling the softness of her skin and the slight dampness from perspiration.
"Who are you fooling?"She jumps back as if burned by my touch."You're no fighter.You've resolved yourself to this crap future of ours because you're as trapped in it as I am."
"Maybe," I admit, because there's no point in lying to her anymore."But I've learned one thing about survival—you don't get far without someone watching your back.And whether you like it or not, I'm that someone for you now."
Her laugh is bitter, but her shoulders sag as the fight seeps out of her.I hate to see her like this, defeated and deflated.Josephine's spirit is one of her best qualities, the thing that's always made her stand out among all the other girls we grew up with.
"So what?"she says, her voice barely above a whisper."I marry into the family who killed my brother to absolve you all of your crimes?I just give up and follow you back to that church like a good little bride because my father said so?"
"No," I say firmly, my body tense from the accusation she's been throwing at me for years."You don't give up.You never give up.But you stop running, Josephine.You stop running, and you start fighting."
"What does that mean?"She's yelling now, drawing stares from passersby."Fight my father?Fight him, how exactly, when you're giving him what he wants?"
"I don't know the how yet, but I'm asking you to give us a chance to figure it out.When we stand in that church today, that's the vow we'll really be taking.To fight together."
She stares at me for a long moment, her expressive brown eyes searching mine for any sign of deception or false hope.
"I'm going to need a minute to think about it."
"I know just the place," I tell her as Franz pulls up in the truck next to us, right on cue.
"You good, boss?"he asks from the car, taking in the scene with practiced discretion.
"Take us to City Park, Franz."
"Come on," I reach for Josephine's hand, feeling the delicate bones beneath her soft skin."Let's go think about shit."
Chapter4
The Question
Gabriel
The City Park is an excellent place for people watching in the French Quarter, and back in the day it was also the perfect place for a first date when I was a horny teenager and didn't have any money.But the reason why I've brought Josephine here is that this was probably the last place where the two of us were human with each other.
It was a long time ago.Her brother was still alive.And she didn't hate me in those days.
Back then, our very ambitious fathers shared equal power in the New Orleans underworld; therefore, our families often spent time around each other.Sunday dinners, holiday parties, business meetings disguised as social gatherings—we were always in each other's orbit, whether we wanted to be or not.
Her brother Leo and I were the same age, three years older than Josephine, and we were quite competitive with each other, but I'd describe it as a healthy kind of competition.I was a kick ass safety for the high school football team, but Leo was the best pitcher of our school's baseball team.We compared wins, titles, social media likes, plus, we clashed over girls, too.Admittedly, part of the fun was seeing who could pull the hottest ones.
Leo and I weren't besties by any means, but I knew them both well enough that I'd have cut someone's balls off if anyone had ever fucked with Josephine.She was Leo's spunky younger sister who was always a busybody, hanging around and crushing on her brother's friends from afar.And even in our inherited ruthless world of drugs and guns, there was a code.Protect the younger ones...especially the girls.
