Mafiosa (Blood for Blood #3)(92)

‘We’re fighting because we’re unhappy,’ I said. ‘But not with each other. We’re stuck here in this world where we don’t belong, trying to be something we can’t mould ourselves into.’

‘Exactly,’ he said, nodding now. ‘You don’t belong here.’

‘We don’t belong here!’ I half-shouted. My heart was racing. I took a shuddering breath and stepped away from him. I had one last-ditch attempt to save him, and he was already a million miles away. ‘Luca, you once told me I was ruled by emotions – that I couldn’t walk away from danger if those I loved were involved in it. You told me I was foolish – reckless. Now look.’ I gestured at him, at that hideous Falcone ring on his finger, at the office, and all the planned bloodshed its walls had seen. ‘You’re anchored to this family because you love them, because you can’t imagine walking away from them even though you know staying will kill you. First it will take your soul, and then it will take every shred of your beautiful humanity and burn it away, and after that it will take your body – and you’ll be nothing in the end, Luca. You’ll be nothing but a memory – nothing but the lives you’ve claimed and the hypocrisy you lived.’ I blinked my vision clear so I could see him crumple underneath my words. He needed to hear this – and, more than that, I needed to say it. ‘You don’t want this life. You never did. You know it’s wrong, you know you’re better than it, and yet, here you are, sinking with the others. And you want me to walk away. Without you.’

His shoulders slumped, and his face fell. I could sense it rising between us – finality. He was done. Done with the conversation, with the dilemma. I was going. He was staying.

I took a step backwards. ‘There’s nothing else I can say, is there?’

He shook his head. ‘It is what it is.’

I looked up at him, a smile dying on my lips. ‘I would go into the darkness with you, but you won’t come into the light with me.’

His smile was sad. ‘That’s very poetic.’

I took his hand, and pulled him towards me. ‘I’ve been spending quite a bit of time with this super nerd lately.’

He wrapped his arms around my waist and gently pulled me in. ‘I love you,’ he said.

‘Just not enough.’

‘Too much, actually.’ He kissed me. It was fierce and passionate and full of every fibre of love we had in our bodies. And when we came apart, our eyes were wet and our hearts were broken.





CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN


COLORADO




Millie and I drove in silence, the tears streaming down my face, her hand in mine.

‘It will be OK, Soph. I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but it will. You will survive this.’

How many ways can a heart break? A shard for my mother, a shard for my father, and a shard for Luca. And all the empty space in between for me.

It would be over come New Year’s Day. Either the Marinos or the Falcones would be wiped out, and every last piece of my identity might be gone, too.

Millie’s parents’ cottage was several hours outside Chicago, nestled inside a pine forest on the edge of a small lake. Luca had warned Millie to lie low here for a few days, and not to move through O’Hare airport or anywhere near Cedar Hill at least until New Year’s Eve. So I waited, quietly, as the days dragged past. I pretended to care about things I never thought about. I watched movie after movie, nestled between Alex and Millie. I made polite conversation with Cris when he came to visit. I lost at Scrabble way too many times to count. I won at Monopoly and didn’t care. Not nearly as much as I thought about Luca, about my father. About my uncle.

I cried myself to sleep at night, my switchblade closed inside my fist – the last reminder that I had belonged somewhere. I wasn’t ready to let that go yet.

The waiting was excruciating. The not knowing was even worse, but we didn’t get the newspapers at the cottage, so I could live, at least for a few days, in ignorant bliss. There was no internet, and I barely had two bars of coverage on my phone. The police called – eager to speak to me about my father’s death. I had already seen it; I didn’t need the specifics. I didn’t need the faux sympathy. I wasn’t ready to open that can of worms yet, so I let the calls go to voicemail. They didn’t come for me. They didn’t know where I was, and whatever Millie told her parents was enough. Because they didn’t push it either.

I booked a one-way flight to Colorado with the money Luca gave to Millie.

On the morning of December 31st, we left the cottage. Millie’s parents were heading to a New Year’s party in the city.

Millie drove me to the airport, and walked me right up to the check-in desk, her fingers curled tightly in mine. The address was burning a hole in my pocket.

‘I can come, you know. I can come with you for a while. I know you won’t be gone too long but you don’t have to go alone.’

If hugs could kill, I would have smothered her. ‘I’ll be fine,’ I said, trying to smile. The truth was, I didn’t know where I was going and whether it might be some last-minute Marino trap. It might have been my only viable option, but I wasn’t about to risk Millie’s life for it. ‘I’ll call you the second I arrive there.’

She pulled me into a hug and I squeezed her so tight we lost our breaths.