Now I’ll be lucky to get out of here alive.
I join Deanna in the hall. She’s trembling, her face pale, but there’s nobody else around. “You’re okay,” I say, reaching out to touch her, but she flinches away.
“Your hands.”
I look down at my palms. They’re bloody. I have to go back into the room to wipe them off on a clean patch of Frankie’s shirt. When I find Deanna again, she’s quietly gathering herself together, rubbing her face with both hands and taking deep breaths.
I don’t try to touch her this time. I don’t know how I’d handle her twitching away from me again.
“We have to get down there. You take the main steps. I’ll come around the back again. Hold it together and we’ll be okay.”
“You killed him.” There’s a chasm in her expression. “You really did it.”
“I’ve done worse. I’ll kill more. This is who I am. I tried to tell you.”
“No, it’s not, it can’t—“ She shakes her head, chewing her thumbnail, and turns her back to me. “I’ll see you down there.”
I watch her go, worry burning in my chest, but there’s nothing I can do right now.
I emerge into the hallway. The meeting door is still closed. Deanna lurks near the two front guards, pacing restlessly in front of the staircase. Both men eye me suspiciously, but I stride over to my wife and ignore them, taking her into my arms and kissing her deeply.
“We’re fine,” I whisper. “Go along with me.”
“They’re going to find him.”
“Not until later. Keep it together. I have you, I promise.”
She nods, looking terrified. I kiss her a second time, holding it longer, hoping the guards will think she’s nervous about the meeting and not about something else.
Like the body we left upstairs.
“Prime!” I break the kiss off and turn. Carbone’s waiting with a deep frown. “I hope you’re not celebrating yet.”
I squeeze Deanna’s ass. “Every day married to her is worth celebrating.”
Carbone doesn’t find that funny. He approaches, his face as dour as always. “Mr. Fontana sends his regrets, but he has other obligations he must attend to.”
I tighten my grip on my wife. My heart quickens but I keep myself steady.They haven’t found him yet. We’re still okay. “Did he mention anything about our presentation?”
“Walk with me.” Carbone opens the front door and strides onto the porch.
I hold Deanna’s hand and follow. The guards remain where they are, though one angles so he can keep an eye on us. Carbone stands at the railing to the porch looking out toward La Salle’s campus.
“It’s strange, meeting in a house like this. Shouldn’t it be filled with college kids?”
Carbone ignores my comment. “Mr. Fontana enjoyed your pitch very much. It’s not often we find people in this business who come prepared.”
“You can blame my wife for that.”
“I most certainly will.” He turns, hand extended, and Deanna flinches at my side. “Mr. Fontana would like to engage your services.”
I step forward and clutch his hand firmly. “We’d appreciate the opportunity.”
“I hope so, Prime. Mr. Fontana does not work with outside contractors very often. I pray you don’t disappoint me.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” I grin at him, and every second we linger at this house is another second they might find the corpse of ball-stomping Frankie up in that closet.
Carbone releases me. “Then we’ll be in touch. Mrs. Spadaro, always a pleasure.”
