“I did,” I say.
“Pull over. Let me do it.”
“Not with your wrong foot, no.”
“Goody.”
“Emo.” We make eye contact in the rearview. I break it to get on the highway entrance. “Tell me what happened since I left. How are you not in charge?”
“My back was turned. You called me. From that, I had a location within a half mile area. But if I told Dad… I didn’t know what he’d do to you. Sergio bragged to me that hollowing Dafne was his idea. I didn’t want him to get any ideas about you.”
“So we’re still hollowing.”
“Only traitors. We just haven’t had anyone turn on us since… I don’t know. Forever.”
“I believe you believe that.”
The car in front of me is driving slow and steady in the right lane. I use it as a guide, keeping a safe distance, but not enough to let someone cut between us.
“I still believe it. Which is why I met with Lucari. To protect you. And he made it clear he wouldn’t let me, so I went to find you myself. It took all night and most of the next day. Drinking coffee—I never drank so much coffee—in every diner in town. Ringing doorbells and asking randoms. Ray called me and told me Dad was murdered while I was out looking for you, and yeah, before you ask, I have feelings about that.”
“I wasn’t going to ask.”
“What happened to you? When did you stop caring?”
“I don’t need to ask. You weren’t there when our father was killed. Of course you have feelings.”
He sighs, tapping a knuckle on the window. “I should have gone back right away. I could have stopped him from giving Sergio the nod. But with him gone, I needed you even more.”
“And Sergio just took over? How is that possible?”
“It’s shaky. No one trusts him. I sent a couple of guys to the Agosti territory in Queens. Just to poke around. Your wedding? It had another purpose. Giovanni Agosti was trying to marry off his oldest son so his younger daughter’s husband could take over. Lisa. Her husband, Ettore. Since then, Giovanni’s had a quadruple bypass. He’s not coming back, and Ettore’s got his feet on the desk.”
“That’s a lot.”
“Yeah. Never mind. I’m sorry to dump shit in your lap that you can’t understand.”
He thinks he’s talking to the Sarah he grew up with, but she’s long gone.
“No. I understand. They sent Sergio to marry me to get rid of him while they put someone else in charge of Agosti territory. When the wedding didn’t exactly work out, they kept Sergio on a string… brought him to Armistice Night, let him have a foot in the Colonia and the Agostis, and then at some point, they still cut Sergio out and put in the son-in-law… what’s his name?”
“Ettore. Ettore Belli.”
“Right, so Sergio can’t go back to Queens, and he hasn’t even married into the Colonia, so he’s like a man without a nation. And he’s ambitious. This we know. Then he’s got to decide… is he going to go home and go to war with Ettore? Or stay with the Colonia? Well, it’s obvious, right? The Colonia just lost their first daughter. We—you got ambushed by a guy who’s a big-time thief, but he’s got no family, so it seems like you got caught with your pants down. For Sergio, the weaker family’s the one to take over. The Colonia. He’ll kiss up to Dad, get you out of the way, and be the second until there’s an opportunity to… what did you call it? Put his feet on Daddy’s desk.”
Massimo blinks. Tilts his head. “Were you always like this?”
“Like what?”
“Smart.”
“No. I wasn’t. I was pure and sweet. I was ripe. Pink. Low-hanging fruit. But…” I shrug, thinking about the girl I was. “The apple’s cut. It won’t be whole again.”
“Exit here. Put on your blinker.”
“Oh, my God, Emo.” I click up the blinker. “I know how to get off the highway.”
That isn’t a lie. I know how. I’ve just never done it before.
“Right. Like how you think you can get Lucari out just like that?” He snaps his fingers.
I stop at a light and wonder if the streets were always this crowded.
“You, Mr. Justlikethat… you drove up to some strange house in Yonkers with a peashooter and your male ego. Did you stop yourself and make a really detailed plan? Because if I remember correctly, you came alone and you shot the only guy who could get you in the gate.”
“That’s different.”
“Yes,” I say with a rush of confidence. “It is different. I’m going home and I know it’ll be hard.”
“Make a left on First and try not to hit anything.”
I catch his gaze in the mirror and stick my tongue out at him before putting my attention in front of me. I really don’t want to hit anything before I find Dario. After that, all bets are off.
CHAPTER 5
SARAH
We hide the shotgun under the seat. Massimo puts his handgun under his jacket. It would be unseemly for me to carry one.
For all that, there’s nowhere to park the car.
Massimo has a wounded leg, and the hydrant spot is close, so I pull in there. It’s also big enough that I don’t have to maneuver into it, which is another thing I know how to do but have never done before. They can tow it for all I care.
Massimo’s using a broom handle for a cane. It was all we could find.
“That ring,” he says when he sees my left hand. “Get rid of it.”
He doesn’t have to explain further. The diamond tells too much of a story for him. For me… I don’t want it taken away. I may need to sell it, so I slide it off in my pocket.
He leans on me until we’re a few storefronts from Gallagher’s. When he pushes away, the next step he takes makes him clamp his jaw shut against a scream.
“You sure?” I ask.
“Yeah.” His kitchen clogs scrape the sidewalk.
“Emo.”
“Goody.” He takes a deep breath, then another step. “Can’t. Project. Weakness.”
I don’t ask him again if he’s sure. A man stands at the door to the bar, holding it open.
“Hello, Marco,” I say when we get there.
He ignores me to address Massimo. “You all right there, buddy?”
“Fuck off.”
He’s definitely not projecting weakness.
They let me go in first, then follow.
The door slaps shut. We’re in a narrow room with shaded windows and wooden chairs set upside down on the tables, their legs up in surrender. To the right is a long counter with space to stand behind it and shelves with bottles standing like soldiers at attention.
I’ve never been inside a place like this. Nighttime places. I’d pass them and wonder what people did there. Why they were so crowded and loud. Now that I’m here, I still wonder.
Sergio’s sitting on a stool, one leg jutting into the aisle, one arm stretched across the bar. There are men in the shadows. I recognize my cousin Raymond, but not the others. Maybe they’re Agosti men from Queens who chose Sergio over Ettore. Maybe freedom makes you forgetful.