I expected more of an argument. More of a reaction stemming from last night. I’m not sure what type of reaction, but this isn’t it. This isn’t anything. It’s like she’s oblivious, which was supposed to be my trick, and it’s pissing me off.
If she’s unaffected by my inflexible demands, I’ll have to up the ante. I need to do something to drive a wedge between usand keep my priorities straight. When she intentionally drops a corner of her toast on the floor for Bonny to gobble up, I seize the opportunity.
“Donotfeed my goddamn dog,” I snap at her. “You’re already wreaking havoc on my life. You don’t need to give my dog the shits on top of everything else.”
Bull’s-eye.
She gapes at me as though I backhanded her across the face. With my mission accomplished, I head for the guest room shower where I plan to punish myself with ice-cold water because I feel like an absolute bastard. But it had to be done.
I’m not okay with her paying for my mistakes, which will happen if I’m not careful. Her sore feelings will heal, but a failure of protection might bring consequences I could never undo. I’ve lived that misery, and I never want to experience it again.
CHAPTER 21
DIANGELO
Past
“What’s done is done.We can’t change that now,” my dad says wearily after I explain the deception that likely led to Elio’s abduction.
While he didn’t berate or blame me, my shame is still overwhelming. As much as I want to crawl in a hole and never resurface, that would be the coward’s choice. It’s more important than ever that I do what is right, no matter how excruciating it is to bear.
“Would Cosimo help us?” I ask. Cosimo Costa is Dad’s childhood friend—the two were neighbors growing up and kept in touch through the years. Dad is an engineer, while his friend became one of the top members of the Moretti crime family. He was my inspiration for the insinuation that my father had connections, even though I knew very well that Dad has never had anything to do with the Mafia aspects of Cosimo’s life. “I’ll explain to him myself what I did. I’ll make sure he knows I’m the only one to blame.”
“It’s not an issue of blame, DiAngelo. I’ll talk to him if needed, and while I never thought I’d ask my friend for money, I would never be too proud to ask for help when it comes to keeping my family safe.”
Dad has always maintained that the key to remaining friends with someone in such a different economic situation is to ensure money is never involved. If they go to dinner together, Dad always insists on paying for himself. He never wanted his friend to question whether Dad was after friendship or money. Crossing that line will weigh heavily on my father.
“What else can we do? Get a loan from the bank?”
Dad shakes his head. “That sort of thing takes ages. They have to go to underwriters and get liens on collateral—there’s no way we’d get the money in time.”
My heart races in my chest. “How do we get the money, then?” Rising panic pulls at my voice like guitar strings strung overly tight.
“We’ll have to go to a moneylender.”
“I thought you said?—”
“Not the bank,” he corrects me. “This type of lender isn’t restricted to the governmental oversight that drags out the loan process.”
“You mean a loan shark?” I can’t keep the shock from my voice. I don’t mean to judge his choices. I don’t have any better suggestions, but this feels like we’re walking straight into a pit of quicksand.
“Keep your voice down,” he demands, eyes cutting to the living room where Mom is pacing. “It would only be temporary. I could pay him off after getting a bank loan. There’s no other way to get that sort of money so quickly. As it is, I don’t know that I could get as much as these monsters are asking, but I need to get as much as I can.”
“You know who to talk to?”
“I have an idea.”
I nod, choosing not to dig further, though I’m endlessly curious how he knows anyone in that line of work. Of course, he’s friends with Cosimo, so maybe there’s more to my dad than I realized.
He stands and slides his phone into his pocket. “I’m going to see what I can come up with.”
I stand, as well. “I’m going to go to the bar and see about getting security footage from that night. Maybe there’s some clue that could help me figure out who’s behind this.”
Dad claps a hand on my shoulder, his steely eyes boring into mine. “That’s a good thought. Every bit of information helps. You let me know what you find, and I’ll keep you informed as well.”
I’m so damn ashamed at how proud he makes me feel when none of this would be necessary if it weren’t for my stupid ego. I don’t deserve such amazing parents. I don’t deserve them, yet I’ll try for the rest of my damn life to honor them and do right by their names. I fucking owe them that and so much more.
Two hours later,I’m in a grungy back office scanning through grainy security footage of the bar. I force myself to watch as past me boasts about his influential connections and passes around my phone to show off photos of the yacht I supposedly rode on. It makes me sick to relive it. At the same time, I’m glad for the discomfort. I deserve that and worse.
