“Don’t do this, Francesco,” I warn.“It won’t end up well for any of us.”
Behind me, Alessia picks up something.I want to make sure it isn’t the gun.Unfortunately, I have to keep my eyes on Francesco, who dances on his feet, ready to lunge with the knife at any second.
“Francesco.”I keep my voice calm and even.“It’s over, just put down the knife.”
He yells and lunges toward me, slashing with the blade.It catches me on the forearm before I kick him back.
Stinging pain spreads through my arm, and blood stains my white shirt.I curse, knowing I need to cover the wound.No time, though—Francesco still holds the knife.A victorious smile twists his mouth.
He believes he has already won this fight.
When he readies himself for another attack, Alessia appears in my peripheral vision.
“You wouldn’t dare, bitch,” Francesco says in Italian.
I turn my head to look at her fully.Dread pools in my gut.She holds the gun in both hands, shaking with effort, fear, or adrenaline, I’m not sure.
“Alessia, no—” I start to say.
Francesco darts toward us.
Alessia screams and pulls the trigger twice.
Two spots of red bloom over Francesco’s gray t-shirt.He clutches his chest, a look of pained disbelief in his eyes as he stumbles backward.
Seth hustles Madison out of his way.Francesco’s back hits the edge of the dresser and he slides down to sit in front of it.He coughs, blood tingeing his mouth and lips a deep red.“Alessia?—”
He coughs again, and his eyes roll back.
Just as violently as he lived his life, Francesco Colombo dies.
* * *
MADISON
The police kept Alessia with them.They wanted to talk to her at the station.I gave them my statement at the motel, as did Damiano and Seth.They didn’t have further questions, but they asked that we remain available in case they need to talk to us again.
And now we’re back at Nove, the three of us walking into Damiano’s penthouse apartment.Sad, battered, bruised.In Damiano’s case, bandaged.
I still can’t believe Alessia shot Francesco.I don’t know that there was much choice, although I think eventually Damiano and Seth would’ve been able to subdue him.But then what?He’d probably go to prison.Would Alessia live every day in fear of his escape or release?Maybe, maybe not.Or perhaps he wouldn’t go to prison at all—it’s possible he could somehow evade conviction and remain in town to terrorize her.
It’s impossible to know.
“Drinks.”Damiano strides into the kitchen, leaving Seth and me facing each other.
I start to follow Damiano.“I’ll give him a hand.”
“Wait.”Seth holds out an arm.“Do you know what today is?”
Despite everything that happened with Francesco, I haven’t forgotten.“It’s Kyle’s birthday.”
“I got you flowers.I don’t know why.”
Because he was thinking of me.And his brother.He probably can’t think of me without thinking of his brother—in his mind, Kyle and I are irrevocably together.
Without a word, I step toward Seth and wrap my arms around his waist.“I understand now.And it’s okay.If you want distance, I’ll tell Damiano to back off, and we’ll leave you alone?—”
“Distance is too painful.”
