His forehead drops to mine.
“I don’t know how this ends,” he says quietly. “Don’t know if we’re making the right choice or the biggest mistake of our lives.”
“Me either.” I close my eyes, breathing him in. “But I know I don’t want to walk away. Not yet.”
“Not yet,” he agrees, and his lips brush my temple.
It’s not a promise that everything will be okay, and it’s far from a declaration of forever.
And somehow, it’s exactly what I need.
I fall asleep to the sound of his breathing, the warmth of his body, the safety of his arms.
For tonight, it’s enough.
I dream of Marco. Not the nightmares I’ve been having of the prison cell or the morgue or the funeral. Just Marco. Alive and whole, sitting across from me at the shitty diner we used to go to when we were kids.
“You did good, little brother,” he says, and his smile is proud.
“I killed someone.” The words feel important even in the dream.
“Yeah.” Marco shrugs. “He deserved it. And now you can move on.”
“I don’t know how.”
“Sure you do.” He reaches across the table, ruffles my hair like he used to when I was a kid. “You let yourself be happy. You let someone take care of you for once and stop carrying me around like dead weight.”
“But—”
“I’m gone, Luca.” His expression is gentle. Sad, but accepting. “You did what you needed to do, and I’m grateful. But now you need to live.”
“With him? With Enzo?”
“If that’s what you want.” Marco leans back. “Is it?”
I think about Enzo’s hands on my knuckles. His voice sayingyou did good, baby.The way he kissed me in a warehouse full of blood, like I was something precious.
“I think so,” I admit. “Is that wrong? Is it—betraying you?”
Marco laughs. “Luca. You spent six months planning to kill a mafia boss to avenge me. You infiltrated his organization, almost died from a catastrophic heat, and then shot my murderer in the face. I think you’ve proven your loyalty to me pretty thoroughly.”
“So what do I do now?”
“Live.” He’s starting to fade, the dream dissolving at the edges. “Just live. Be happy. That’s all I ever wanted for you.”
“Marco…”
“I love you, little brother. Now let me go.”
I wake up with tears on my face and Enzo’s arms around me.
EIGHT
(Epilogue)
Four months later
I’m standing in front of Marco’s grave with flowers in my hand and Enzo at my back.
