Spin (Songs of Corruption #1)(66)

“Wait,” she said. “You need to tell him what you told me. I don’t even know what you’re talking about. Do you have a little time?”

Did I? Was I looking to get involved even more deeply? By a woman who perceived me as a threat? Did I want to go home to my empty loft? Or start the round of calls to friends and family to ensure I had things to do and places to go for the next few days? Or did I want to exist in Antonio’s sphere for another hour?

“Sure,” I said.

***

She drove up the hill in her Range Rover. I followed her lights on the unlit roads. We were a few miles west of the car shop. She stopped on the top of a hill. The concrete ditch of the L.A. River was beneath us.

“This it?” I said.

Below were makeshift shacks occupied by the homeless, some more complex than others. Across the river was Frogtown, but no one would walk across the muck of a dry river bed for that.

“Marina?” I turned to ask her where we were going but stopped short.

She was holding a little silver gun.

“Jesus Christ.” I held up my hands.

“What did you do?” she asked. “Tell me. What did you do to make him love you?”

“He doesn’t—”

“You’re lying. He does. You made him crazy. He’s still crazy.”

“I didn’t do anything Marina, I—”

“He’s destroyed everything because of you. First, he dumped me, then he threw Vito Oliveri under the bus. And Bruno? Bruno was a good guy. But he saw what was happening, and he tried to get you so he could put some sense into Antonio. It was just going to be an example.”

“He let Bruno live, Marina. I was there. He could have killed him. He had his wits about him.”

“Bruno was made, you dumb Irish bitch. He can’t kill him without warning every other family in Los Angeles he’s gonna do it. They’re coming from the old country to kill Antonio, and now I’m going to save him by killing you. The cause of it all.”

I didn’t know if it actually worked like that. I wasn’t in her world. Maybe if she brought my head to Donna Maria Carloni and whoever was coming from the old country, that would be helpful to Antonio. Maybe the spell I’d woven around him would be broken and he’d start making coherent decisions again.

I stepped back, hands still raised. “You understand if you murder me, you’ll go to jail. Is that what you want?”

“For him, I’d go.” She straightened her arms and aimed for my heart.

Smart girl, unfortunately. It was a safer shot than the head. Her hands tightened. I would be dead in a second. I wasn’t sure my arm would reach when I extended it for the gun. She moved, bending her elbows, and it went off with a flash and a pop.

I didn’t feel any pain, just a pressure and a blank space in my thoughts. The world went sideways, then I heard another crack, and—

nothing.

forty.

The pain came first, as if someone had put a sharp clamp on the side of my head. The sounds came afterward. People shuffling, metallic clacking noises, short laughs, all men. The acoustics indicated I was in a small space. And the smell was wet, sticky earth.

My mouth was dry, and I moved my tongue.

“What’s the date?” said a voice. That voice.

I didn’t know the answer, but I opened my eyes. Lights and colors were blurred as if thrown into a blender.

“What’s your name?”

“Contessa,” I croaked.

“Good.”

I blinked, squeezed my eyes shut, and opened them again. The room was tight and low, with dirt walls and ceiling. Enzo and Nicolo passed by, yammering in Italian, and over me was…

“Capo.”

“Shh. Please. You got a good knock on the head.”

“Where am I?”

“Under casa di tuorlo. But I’ll say no more.”

“Where’s Marina?”

He shook his head. “She’s fine, but stupid. Otto found her and you just in time. She’s being sent home to Naples tomorrow. How is your ear?”

That must be the searing pain on the side of my head. “Hurts.”

“It caught a bullet.”

I got up on my elbows and looked around. I saw a door on each side of the room and a wall lined with racks of rifles.

“I wanted to tell you something,” I said.

“Marina told me.”

I noticed then that he wasn’t touching me. He wasn’t holding my hand or stroking my cheek. His fingers were laced together between his legs.

“Thank you. The warning about the DA is very helpful. We were clearing out anyway. Paulie’s gone.”

“Why?”

“Why? He put you in a terrible position. We, ah…” He looked at his hands. My vision had cleared enough to see the red scratches on his fists. “We fought. He set the shop on fire. I don’t know who he will align with, if anyone. But not me.” He stood. The ceiling wasn’t much higher than his head.

“Antonio,” I said, “where are you going?”

“I have a war to prepare for. Otto will make sure you get home safely.” He walked toward the door like a doctor satisfied the patient would live.

“No,” I said, suddenly lucid. “Don’t. Please.”