And that’s the most dangerous thing of all because I’m not sure who I am when I look at him anymore.
CHAPTER 6
THE MEMORY OF HER
Matteo
The squeal of swings and the metallic clank of monkey bars cut through the crisp spring air in Central Park. A dozen kids race across the playground like a swarm of sugar-fueled banshees, but my focus is on the little red-haired devil clambering up the slide backward.
“Rex,” I call, leaning against the fence with my hands stuffed in my pockets. “You’re supposed to go down, not up.”
My seven-year-old brother just grins at me over his shoulder, a gap where his front tooth used to be making him look like he lost a fight with the Tooth Fairy. My sister, Madison, was supposed to be on babysitting duty this morning, butPapàwas finally available for that driving lesson he’d been promising which left me with Rex. Honestly, I don’t mind watching the little hellion, he reminds me a lot of myself at that age. Of all my siblings, we’re the most alike. Jackson is quiet and reserved, while all Sofia cares about is fashion, like Serena and our Aunt Jia, and Madison… well, she’s just Madi, kind of nerdy like mymom but those glasses hide a wild streak beneath the smattering of freckles.
“It’s faster this way!” he shouts, drawing my attention as he scrambles up the slide.
“Pretty sure that’s not how physics works, kid.”
“Physics is stupid!” He hauls himself up with all the determination of a pint-sized soldier.
I can’t help it, I laugh. Loud and unguarded. He’s the only one who gets that out of me anymore. As the baby of the Rossi brood, he was an unexpected surprise. Everyone treats him like glass, like some fragile treasure. I just treat him like my little brother.
“Fine,” I grumble, throwing my hands up. “Defy gravity. Break your neck. Mom will blame me anyway.”
Maisy Rossi is quiet and assuming, has never said a curse word in her life, but she’s the only woman on the planet that could keepPapàin check. Some would call my father unhinged, but they wouldn’t live long after.
Rex whoops, drawing my attention, before he launches himself down the slide, hair flying, sneakers smacking the rubber mat at the bottom. Then he’s sprinting back up the ladder. The kid is fearless. I’m not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing. I watch him, warmth blooming in my chest despite myself.
Then that prickling sensation crawls across the back of my neck. It’s a sixth sense, one all of us Rossis are born with. It’s essential for self-preservation growing up in a family like ours.
I straighten slowly, scanning the park from behind my sunglasses. Moms are clustered on benches, gossiping. A jogger is stretching against a tree. Some old man feeds pigeons. Normal. All of it normal.
But the feeling doesn’t go away.
Her. It has to be her.
My pulse quickens, my breath coming harder.
The mystery woman from the Vault. The gun. The mask. Those eyes. I can’t shake the memory of her. I can’t stop replaying it at night when I should be sleeping.
I keep my hands loose at my sides, resisting the urge to reach for the gun tucked under my jacket. My eyes flick up to find Rex at the top of the slide again. This can’t happen. Not here. Not with my baby brother a few feet away.
Where are you? I glance around the trees that line the fencing around the park. Nothing.
“Matty! Watch this!” Rex is at the top of the jungle gym now, arms spread like he’s about to take flight.
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter, forcing my voice steady. “You’re not a superhero, Rex. Get down before I have a heart attack.” If there is someone tailing me, I need to get my little brother out of here. The last thing I want is him witnessing me getting shot. The sight of me riddled with bullets, blood blossoming across my chest flashes across my vision.
Stop that.You’re not dying today, Rossi.
“Superheroes don’t get down,” he calls out, grinning like a maniac.
“Superheroes also have to listen to their big brothers,” I shoot back. “Want me to call Ma and tell her you’re not behaving? You’ll be eating broccoli for dinner instead of pasta.”
That gets him. He scrambles down, muttering about how unfair I am.
I crouch, leveling my voice. “Hey, buddy. Thanks for listening. You’re going to be a great superhero one day.”
He grins again. I point toward the sidewalk, where our driver is waiting. “You see where Joey parked the black car over there?”
