Rushed(106)

Pietro nodded, tears welling in his eyes. "I see. And does the conspiracy go any deeper?"

I shook my head. "No. He was blackmailed because of something he did in the military."

Pietro nodded and looked at Jake. "You betrayed the Godfather. You betrayed your friend, and you betrayed your own blood."

Pietro turned his attention to me. "What are your orders, Mr. Bertoli?"

I looked at him, then at Luisa. She kept her pistol on Jake but made her way around toward my side of the diner. As she did, Jake for some reason reached out, grabbing her ankle and yanking, even as his hand went back to his jacket for his pistol. I raised my pistol up, but had no angle on them with the way Luisa fell.

Suddenly, a pistol shot cracked, and Jake was spun backward. I glanced as Pietro lowered his pistol and walked forward, the total enforcer. He held his hand out, but his eyes never left the bleeding form of his son on the floor. "Are you okay, Miss Mendosa?"

"I'm fine," Luisa said, getting to her feet without his help. She pulled her foot back, far out of Jake's reach, and shook her head in exasperation. "Thank you, Pietro."

He ignored the thanks and walked to his son, who was lying on the tile, his shoulder bleeding. Pietro raised his pistol and looked at me. "Wait,” I said.

I grabbed my crutches from where they'd been kept under the table and made my way over to them. “You’d really do this?” I asked.

"He betrayed you. He betrayed me. What else is there to do?” His hand quivered, and Jake lay on the floor, blubbering for his life.

"Dad, please . . . I'm sorry. I made a mistake.”

I put my hand on top of Pietro's and lowered his weapon. “You don’t need this burden on your soul. I say we let him go, but my father can decide his fate."

Pietro looked at me, then at Jake. He put his pistol away, a single tear trickling down his cheek. He leaned in close, his voice low so that I could barely hear it in the strange quiet of the diner. "Please don't kill him, sir. He's my only son, the last chance my family line has, as pathetic as that may be."

I glanced at Luisa, who nodded her assent. I took my gun and leveled it at Jake, thumbing back the hammer. "I shouldn’t let you get away with this. You may be the last of the Marconi men, but your father is wrong. His family line is ensured in the way he’s going to teach me and the way that he mentored Daniel Neiman."

Jake lay on the ground, still pleading.

“Maybe you’re right. I am a little soft. Maybe I'm not hard enough for this yet," I said, lowering my gun. "You have one minute. Get up off the floor, get the f*ck out of this diner, and get out of Washington. In fact, your privileges west of the Rockies are f*cking revoked. Don’t come back until you’re invited—if that day ever comes.”

"Tommy . . .” Jake said, sitting up. "Come on, man."

"Fifty-five seconds. If you're not out of my sight by then, Luisa and I will both shoot you. Fifty seconds."

Jake was on his feet in a flash, running into the night, clutching at his bleeding shoulder and looking back, hatred, fear and hurt in his eyes. I noticed as he went through the door that a light rain was starting to fall, the drops matching what I felt in my heart. I holstered my gun and looked at Pietro, who nodded his thanks. "I owe you, Mr. Bertoli."

"Tomasso, Pietro. I'm just Tomasso, remember?"

He shook his head and wiped the tear away from his face. "No sir. You're Mr. Bertoli. I'll speak about this with the Godfather after you have a chance as well. In the meantime, I need to make sure your orders are carried out and to get some cleaners over here. I'll explain this to my wife later."

"Thank you, Pietro."

He left, and I looked at Luisa, who walked back to the booth she'd been sitting in and got her purse, tucking the pistol back inside and tapping her phone. I heard another soft double beep in my ear, and I realized that until that moment, her phone had been recording everything we both had said or heard. I sighed and looked out the glass window to the rain that could be seen highlighted against the streetlights. "How'd I do?"

She came over and kissed me softly on the lips, then rested her head against my chest. "Let's go home."

The whole ride back to the house, she said nothing, driving with care, parking and going inside to get an umbrella before coming back out and holding it open for me. There were a few other people up as I came in, and I could tell from the way they looked at me as I crutched toward the front door that word had already gotten around. Aunt Margaret was waiting for me inside, her face proud. "Welcome home."

I nodded, the strain starting to overcome me. With a glance, she dismissed the other members of the staff who’d greeted me, and she and Luisa helped me to the downstairs study. I collapsed into the chair, my hand trembling as I wiped at my face. "I just banished my best friend for life."

"You showed mercy as well as strength," Margaret said, pouring me a glass of water. "You let Pietro have his honor, you protected your family, and you defended Luisa's honor. I couldn’t have expected better."

It was all I could do to keep tears at bay as I felt a little bit of my innocence slip away. It wasn't play time any longer—I was in this for life. I would have to become the man I'd always meant to become. My shoulders shook, and I felt soft hands rub at them. "What am I to do?"