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“You look like you’re fucking eighty years old with the salt and pepper scruff and the lines around your eyes.”

“Don’t bust my balls there, Ms. Roots. Your sparkle is showing.”

“I’ve been a goddamned captive. What’s your excuse?” I yank her into a hug. “No excuse for shabby hygiene.”

“Ballbuster,” I say into her hair.

“Bully.” I hold her closer than I have in years. Wasted years where she had to hold that secret and suffer alone.

“You know, you could have told me. I’m sorry, I didn’t see it sooner.”

“Yeah, it sucked. My kids know. I mean, they’re adults now, but they knew when they were teenagers.”

“They know?”

“Yeah, the brilliant one figured it out when Enzo turned out to be so fucking stupid.” I laugh and her pocket vibrates.

I push her away. “Who the fuck is calling? Everyone you know is here or dead.”

She rolls her eyes. “This thing won’t fucking stop. It was bugging the crap out of me as I tried to sleep. It was in the top desk drawer in the big bedroom inside your blue shave bag.” I have a black leather shave bag. “It’s why I came down. Every ten minutes this ancient bitch phone goes off. I turned it off, and the damn thing keeps flicking back on.”

I wrench the flip phone from her hands quickly. Mary and the saints. Mel came here with her wife on their honeymoon years ago. She left a dormant burner. Damn, she’s good. Or paranoid.

“It was actually squealing a bit ago, not just vibrating. Took me a fucking age to find the damn noise.”

UNKNOWN: 911

This is repeated thirty-six times.

UNKNOWN: Your boys need you. From the South, The WC & DC.

My head is spinning and I start pacing the kitchen as I work out her code. Gia just watches. “South is Brick. Wine Country are the Five and DC is Mark.”

“There’s something wrong. You, okay?” I don’t know what this is.

“No. Not okay.”

“What can I do?”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing until I understand what’s happening?”

UNKNOWN: Where the fuck are you?

UNKNOWN: Answer me, gangster. Fuck me running. Come on. Seriously. Winnie the Pooh is in fucking dire need. It’s her. She used to be his.

UNKNOWN: The TBB has her. And a little him! NEED YOU NOW.

UNKNOWN: The mouth from the south told me you’re alive. I know you are. Answer. Jesus. Please don’t be dead. Don’t make them face the TBB alone.

TBB is Mel’s code for The Big Bad from a TV show she watches or some shit. What she’s telling me is that Cady took one of the members of the Five Families, my family. I work it out. Who would–holy shit. Holy shit.

Christ, Poppy’s nearest and dearest, stronger than family, and the calvary is assembling to get Sammy. Cady has her. I don’t know if Mark’s gone rogue or not or if he’s backed by the task force anymore. But this is why he was radio silent. Why they all got locked down. Whatever this is, it’s happening now.

They won’t face this alone. I didn’t draw them into this shit. And they don’t know I’m alive, unless Mel, Tabi, Mark, or Brick let it slip. But I’m pretty sure I would have caught shit from Josh at this point if he knew.

They couldn’t be here for me, but I can be there for them. And Poppy will never stay behind, not anymore. At this point, she’s more of an asset than this collection of fucking farmers heading into war.

And after what she’s seen and done, my wife can handle anything. I only hope we’re not too late. And that she wakes up soon.