“Did you kill him?” my father asks.
I inhale, wishing that I could take credit. Sofia stirs against me, raising her head to join in the conversation. Her voice is weak when she speaks, but her words are powerful.
“I shot him,” she says. “Is he dead?”
“He’s dead,” my father confirms. “Good shot.”
Sofia laughs, but it comes out all wrong. It’s half cough, half bark, and a direct result of all the stress she’s been through. But my father takes it in stride. He meets my eye and nods respectfully. I lean my head back on the couch, giving up. Nowthat I’m no longer the senior Corello in the room, I bow to the don of the family. He’ll know exactly what to do in this situation. All that remains is for me to take care of Sofia. I’m not going to let her out of my sight for as long as it takes for her to regain her composure. For the moment, I’m simply happy to be alive.
CHAPTER 40
SOFIA
I’m only half aware of what’s going on in the apartment. There are certain people lying down and other people standing up. Frankie’s family came to rescue us. I’m beyond grateful for everything they’ve done. I have a momentary dizzy spell where I’m overwhelmed with guilt. I stole from this man who put his life on the line to save me. Both Corellos, Frankie and Francisco, are there for me, and I’ve treated them horribly.
But I can’t put two words together to save my life. I cling to Frankie as if I’m drowning. He’s my lifeline in the ruins of my apartment. I listen to the sounds of footsteps pacing back and forth from the bedroom to the kitchen. I’m dimly aware that there are bodies scattered all around.
Someone comes over to stand beside us. The person crouches down to talk to Frankie in a low tone. I feel like I’m trying to translate Chinese into English, and I don’t know the language, my brain can’t catch up. All I hear are muffled sounds. Frankie’s chest vibrates beneath my cheek when he responds.
“Can you move?” the person beside us asks.
It takes me a moment to identify the speaker as Frankie’s Uncle Gio. Frankie touches my shoulder, and I know he’s waiting for a response, but I’m too numb to say anything. Finally, Frankie nods, and I can feel him shifting position behind me.
I grab his shirt to hold him steady. I’m not ready to go anywhere. But the rest of them are more comfortable dealing with death than I am. They don’t want to stick around for the police. I’m sure my neighbors heard all the commotion, and we probably don’t have a lot of time left before we’re trapped again.
Frankie slides his way out from behind me. I clutch at him desperately, not understanding what’s going on. He doesn’t leave though. Instead, he squats beside me, putting one arm beneath my knees and the other around my back. The next thing I know, he’s cradling me in his arms. I hug him back, thankful for the support.
He moves toward the door, stepping over something in his path. I’m sure it’s a dead body, but I press my eyes shut so I don’t have to see. I’m leaving everything behind, but I don’t care. There’s nothing in the apartment that I want anymore, not my clothes, my computer, or my purse. I don’t care what the police do with anything that they find. I’ll be lucky if I can come back and pack when this all blows over. If it ever blows over. I’ll have nightmares about this shoot out until I’m old and gray. But at least I have a chance at a long life, thanks to Frankie.
He takes me out into the hall and walks down the stairs as if I’m as light as a feather. I feel the sunlight on my face for a moment as we walk across the parking lot. Then a car door opens, and I can feel myself being lowered to the ground.
I stand on my own two feet for a moment before sitting down in the backseat. Frankie waits for me to move over so he can sitbeside me. I put my head down on his shoulder, my eyes still closed.
Someone else sits down on the opposite side. I can only guess that it’s one of their bodyguards. There are a few more doors that open and shut before the engine turns on and we drive away.
I don’t know where we’re going and I don’t care. The only thing that matters is putting all the trauma behind us. I visualize my apartment with all its dead bodies. What a gory scene for someone to come across.
I hope it’s not my downstairs neighbor who comes upon the grisly sight. She’s a sweet older woman who teaches sewing classes in the evening. She would be scarred for life if she ventured up to see what caused all the noise. Maybe she’ll just call the police and let them deal with it. I hope she’s cautious enough to allow that to happen, and not so curious to look for herself.
But I can’t deal with that now. The most important thing is to hang on tight to Frankie’s arm. I can’t explain it, but it’s vital for me not to lose contact. He came to rescue me when I was in need. It’s his family that stopped the bad guys from killing us, and I’m too upset to think about anything else.
We drive for a while before pulling into Frankie’s home. I recognize the gate from the last time I saw it. Back then I thought I was running for my life, now I’m hiding out for the same reason. I was wrong about who handled Danny’s death. I’ll never be able to apologize for my misconception, but I know I don’t have to.
Frankie’s father is in the passenger seat, and he’s just as caring as Frankie. When the car pulls around to the house, he getsout first. Then he walks around to open Frankie’s door for him. Frankie eases his way out, turning back to help me exit. I walk with both Corello men up the front porch steps to the door, feeling like the most protected person in the world.
They usher me inside, leaving the rest of the crew to follow. Frankie’s stepmother is waiting for us in the foyer. She skips over her husband and her son-in-law and comes straight for me.
Marlena gives me a big hug, and links her arm with mine, deftly moving Frankie out of the way.
I look back at him, not wanting to leave. He’s been my rock through this whole ordeal and I’m not sure how I can survive without him. Marlena pats me on the arm sympathetically. “Let’s get you upstairs,” she says.
“No,” I protest, reaching out for my savior.
Frankie stays close, but he doesn’t reciprocate. It’s only then that I notice his injuries. His nose is split; there’s a nasty red line running across his bridge. Blood is caked across most of his face, making him look like a zombie out of a horror flick.
We all need to relax. We’re unharmed in Frankie’s mansion, and Carlo Andretti is dead. I suddenly realize that Mr. Harlan is gone too. He crawled out from beneath his rock to attack us and ended up getting killed. I wonder what’s in store for me once the police find the body, bodies really, since there’s more than one. It’s my apartment they’re in after all, so it only seems logical that there would be questions.
Francisco kisses his wife on the cheek. “Get her upstairs and into the shower. Frankie, you take one too. We’ll reconvene if anyone needs a doctor.”
