I blinked a fresh stream of tears on to my cheeks. ‘I’m OK,’ I said, convulsing. ‘I’m OK.’
‘Come on,’ he urged. He pressed his body against mine, anchoring me upright as he moved his fingers against my neck and back into my hair, searching frantically. ‘Come on,’ he breathed. ‘Help me. I need you to help me.’
‘It’s not my blood,’ I cried, grabbing his hands and crushing them in mine. ‘It’s not my blood!’
Luca faltered as my words crashed into him. Comprehension dawned, slowly lifting the panic from his features. He dropped his hands and stood back. ‘I thought—’
Nic came charging into the alleyway, pulling Millie in tow. He barrelled into Luca, knocking him off kilter. ‘I’ve got her,’ he was saying. ‘Did you find—’ He stopped when he saw me. His eyes swelled and he cursed so loudly it made Millie scream.
Luca grabbed Nic by his collar and pulled him further into the alley. ‘Calmati! Calmati!’
Nic was still shouting.
Luca slammed him against the wall. ‘It’s not her blood! It’s not her blood!’
Millie collapsed into me, winding her arms around my neck. ‘Soph, I. Was. So Worried. I. Couldn’t. See. You. Anywhere …’ she trailed off, her words turning to sobs as I imprinted Calvino’s blood on her.
The sirens were getting closer and Nic was pulling me away. I pulled Millie with me. ‘We’ve got to get out of here. Now!’
‘My car is back that way!’ She pointed in the direction of the club, the crowds, the sirens, the chaos. Her face fell as she realized the impossibility of it all. ‘Shit.’
‘Come on,’ said Nic, tugging us with him.
We followed the Falcone brothers down the alley, both of us hobbling in our heels. The sirens split apart the night air as they got closer and closer. At the end of the lane we staggered into a parking lot.
Luca jumped into his SUV and started the engine. Before I knew what I was doing I was climbing into the back seat, wedging myself beside Millie and dragging blood across their leather seats. We needed to be anywhere but here. Nic got into the front seat and Luca took off.
‘Take the back streets,’ Nic told Luca.
‘I know,’ he ground out. ‘Did you get him?’
‘He was too quick.’
Luca cursed. ‘I told Valentino it was a bad idea.’
‘Better than them coming to us first.’
‘It was the wrong territory.’
A scream from outside jolted me from their conversation. I pressed myself against the window, peering at the parking lot as we pulled away from it. Felice and Dom were dragging someone towards another SUV. A flash of purple hair streaked across my vision. Felice shoved her into his back seat and Dom threw himself in behind her, his hand snaking around her mouth.
We pulled on to a back street and I lost sight of them.
‘What are they doing?’ I asked, pressing myself against the window and leaving bloody handprints on the glass.
No one answered me. Millie was still crying. Nic and Luca were arguing in Italian. Jack was God knows where. We were speeding into the night, far away from the direction of Cedar Hill and the sirens at the club. And in the sudden calmness of the car, one very vital piece of information erupted inside my head.
‘Calvino’s dead!’ The memory descended on me like a black cloud. ‘He fell on top of me. This is his blood!’
My throat started burning. Millie pitched over her knees and vomited.
Luca and Nic had fallen silent in the front. They shared an uneasy glance, and then Nic turned around, leaning across the armrest.
‘Your uncle is dead,’ I said, hearing the horror warp my voice. ‘He’s gone. He’s dead.’
Nic was so calm it threw me.
‘Do you hear me?’ I pressed. ‘Do you understand what I’m saying?’
‘We know,’ said Nic. Simple, emotionless. But his face was too placid. He was barely blinking, and I glimpsed a muscle feathering in his jaw. Luca’s knuckles were white against the steering wheel. Millie was still retching.
Why did they have to come? They had ruined everything. Now someone was dead and it was only going to get worse. Everything was such a violent, steaming mess. That stupid crimson card. That stupid boy.
Nic was watching me.
‘You broke your promise,’ I said.
‘And you broke yours.’
There was no accusation in his words, but they still stung. Every second seemed to pull him further away from the boy I had thought he was, and I was starting to wonder if I had tricked myself – if the feeling of needing someone, of wanting someone to want me in a world where everyone had turned their back on me, had masked the truth of everything.