“I never expected you, Francesca. From the moment I heard you sing, I wanted you, but you surprise me every day. Mostly, I’m surprised by how completely I fell in love with you.”
“Don’t say these things,” I beg. “Not now. Not now, not now.Don’t die.”
I’m sobbing to the point I’m incoherent when I feel Ronan’s hand touching my shoulder. “Frankie, get up. Frankie?” I can’t react. I can’t let go of my husband’s hand.
“He’s here for you,” Carlo says, his eyes flicking briefly to my brother. “Go with him if that will make you happy. I’ll tell them you had my blessing to go.”
“No…Carlo!”
His eyes drift shut, and Ronan is tugging on my arm. I stiffen. He’s strong, but I weigh a thousand pounds tonight, and I won’t budge. “Frankie, come on!”
“The kid called for reinforcements,” an older man with a strong Southie accent says. "The place will be crawling with Italians soon." Other BRG men surround him.
“How?” I ask Ronan, still baffled over the fact he’s here.
“I was watching your building when I called you. We followed when we saw you leaving with him.” If I’d stayed with Faro at the penthouse, my husband would be unharmed. Guilt and agony rip through me.
“Time to go, lad,” his BRG friend says.
“My father?” Ronan asks, glancing at the silent figure in the cage.
“Nah, he’s had it,” the man replies, bitterly. “Vicini took your revenge from you, but you got him at least. Time to clear out.”
My brother kneels beside me, ignoring the man’s urgency. A mixture of rage, frustration and panic swirling in his familiar dark blue eyes. “Frankie, come with me.”
I shake my head. “No, you should go. I won’t leave him. Run now, Ronan. I don’t want you to die.”
“But he forced you to marry him,” he says, unable to understand.
"He did." But I no longer care about how it happened. "Are you sad that Da’s gone, Ronan?”
“No, it makes me angry! He was mine to kill!”
Revenge. On and on, it goes. I wish he could see how pointless it all seems to me but perhaps a part of me understands. I got what I wanted out of that conversation with Da. I got an ending I can move on from. Ronan feels cheated, but I can’t be angry at my husband for what he did. He did it for me.
“Go back to Boston. Take Maeve with you. Write to Mom. She deserves to hear from you. Leave me here with him.”
“Frankie…” Despair laces his plea this time.
I touch his hand where it’s still grasping my elbow. Carlo’s blood coats my fingers and rubs off on him. “I love you, Ronan. I will always love you… but I love him more.” His eyes flash with fury and hurt as he shoves himself up from the floor. He aims his gun, staring at his target. I throw my body across my husband’s. "Leave us! Leave me!" I scream. Or he can kill me, too, if he decides to pull the trigger.
“This isn't you, Frankie.” It is, but I don’t reply. Ronan doesn’t want to hear my reasons, and I get it. “I came to save you."I don't need saving. "Never again will I be such a fool for love,” my brother snarls before he hurries to follow his men out the back of the warehouse.
I turn all my attention back to Carlo, desperately trying to stop the bleeding. I watch his chest slowly rise and fall with a string of prayers falling from my lips as I clutch the stupid hair tie, praying there’s really some luck in it. Do prayers on behalf of a sinner ever get answered? I don’t know. I don’t know what to believe, but his sweet words ring in my ears.I love you, too.
Renato limps toward me. His leg and shoulder are bloody. I can’t tell how serious his injuries are. I can’t even bring myself to ask as he sinks down beside me, staring at his big brother like a frightened teenager for once. The sound of cars and men outside grows louder. “They’re coming,” I whisper to Carlo and to Renato. “They’re coming for you both.”
And they’re coming for me.
Faro is the first to rush into the warehouse, gun drawn and accusation in his eyes. He’s followed by Luca, who takes one look at his wounded brothers and levels me with his fiery judgement.
52
Carlo
Cotton fills my head and mouth when I peel my eyes open. It’s drier than the desert in this quiet little room. The blinds are closed so I can’t tell much about my surroundings. My vitals are being monitored. There’s an IV attached to my arm. A flash of memory and the dull pain in my back intensifies. I grimace and take it. Tolerating pain was one of many lessons I learned early.
But when I see Luca beside my bed instead of her, I knowthispain is nothing Faro’s lessons prepared me for, no more than an IV drip can cure it. “I freed my songbird from her cage,” I mumble, hating how weak my voice sounds and that pitiful ache in my chest when I see my wedding band.
