“Look,” I flipped my hair over my shoulder, “I know you don’t want anything to do with me, and I feel the same way. I don’t know what possessed me to ask you for a kiss. It was a stupid idea. I got caught up in the celebration. I’m over it now, so there’s no need to talk about it.”
He climbed into bed and put his arms around me. I wedged my fisted hands between us, creating a physical blockade of sorts, hoping it acted as a mental one too. It didn’t work. I melted into him despite my best intentions, feeling safe and warm for the first time since I saw a man die. My spine snapped straight at the memory of men who Sal had shot.
“You killed those two men. What’s gonna hap—”
His hand covered my mouth, shutting me down mid-word. I could taste the salt from the calzone on his fingers.
“Shut the hell up,” he whispered next to my ear. “You didn’t see anything tonight. I drove you home from your piano lesson, and we ate dinner together. That’s the official story. Understood?”
I pried his fingers from my face, my eyes wide and my heart thumping like a demon. “Do you think the police are going to come here and—”
“No, Em, they won’t. Tony knows what he’s doing. Be a good girl and do your part and forget about it. Can you do that?”
When I started to nod, an unwelcome sob burst from my mouth. I swallowed five or more times in a row, battling back the urge to cry, except it wouldn’t take no for an answer. My body trembled, tears crawled down my face, and my stomach swirled into knots.
I had spent three years searching for dirt on my dad to get away from him. Now that I had solid proof I didn’t want it. I’d give anything to unsee what happened today. The ugly side of the mafia always seemed so far removed from reality when I listened to the whispered conversations and read the cryptic notes. Dead, lifeless eyes brought the horror of this life into sharp focus, and I wanted out more than ever.
“Shh,” Sal rocked me from side to side, feathering kisses on my face. “It’ll be okay. You’re safe. Nothing’s going to happen to you. I’ve got you. I would have died before I let that man hurt you. What I said to him about not caring, that was all for show. It couldn’t be further from the truth.”
“I don’t want to be part of this anymore. I hate what my dad does. I hate him. I hate this life.”
“No, you don’t. You’re in shock right now, and those guys in that warehouse aren’t worth crying over. They’ve killed enough people to fill a bus, so look at it as a good deed. We probably saved dozens of lives today.”
I tipped up my chin, studying his solemn face. “You think so?”
“I know so.”
“I don’t get it. Why were you meeting them?”
“Like I said, Pietro wanted me to do a pick up. It was supposed to be a quick in and out. Grab an envelope and leave. Those men were there, and things went from bad to ugly real fast.”
“Do you think someone set you up? Maybe Pietro or Tony?” I should’ve kept my mouth shut. I knew a little bit about how things worked in my dad’s world.
Sal’s muscles tensed beneath my fingertips. “Let’s not speculate about it, okay? As much as you like to sneak around and spy on your dad, you need to keep your nose out of it. You’re gonna hear something you shouldn’t, and you’ll wind up getting hurt.”
“Don’t you get it? That’s the whole point.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I want to hear something or know something. It’s the only way I’ll be able to get away from my father.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled, and his lips thinned. “Are you talking about blackmailing your father?”
I swallowed, focusing on gathering my thoughts. The best course of action would be to shut my freakin’ mouth. Sal didn’t need to know anything about my plans, and history already taught me I couldn’t trust him. He had treated me like crap since the night of my birthday party. Something deep inside of me, however, call it gut instinct or whatever, urged me to give him a chance, and that’s how I found myself spilling the truth.
“It’s my only option. My dad has all these plans for me, and I don’t want anything to do with him or his little empire.”
“What are you talking about?”
I leaned against the headboard and closed my eyes for a second. “He plans to marry me off to some guy in Chicago to expand his influence. Master—”
“Master Marcello,” Sal nodded. “Otherwise known as Marcello Masciantonio.”
“Yeah, that’s him. I’ve overheard my dad negotiating with some men more than a few times in the last six months. I don’t want to be married to some guy in another state I don’t know.”