Inferno(94)

Jack had the audacity to laugh. ‘We both know I’m not leaving here without you, Soph.’

‘I can’t help you kill the Falcones. Donata won’t—’

Jack barked an incredulous laugh. ‘You don’t really believe Donata expected you to kill anyone, do you?’

I blanched. ‘She said she wanted me to help her.’

‘You don’t even know how to use a gun, let alone kill a man. For Christ’s sake, you’re seventeen years old.’

‘But then how was I supposed to—’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ Jack interrupted, amusement still colouring his tone. ‘You’ve already done it, Soph. You’ve already helped her.’

‘I—’ The words fell away from me. ‘She knew I’d go to them,’ I realized. ‘She wanted me to go to them.’

She played me.

But why? I didn’t get it – I couldn’t grasp the scope of her plan. I was too close to it, and it didn’t make sense. But I knew I had slipped up.

‘Donata is a very intelligent woman,’ Jack said admiringly. ‘You shouldn’t underestimate her.’

My mother was groaning, and I was beginning to realize that the two of us getting out of here together and without Jack was going to be impossible.

As if reading my thoughts, he said, ‘You can’t run, so don’t try.’

‘Why?’ I asked, hearing the childishness in my own voice. ‘Why do I matter so much?’

‘Because you’re family,’ said Jack. ‘And family stick together.’

‘We don’t want to stick with you, Antony, we’re fine by ourselves.’

‘Well,’ he said, still ignoring my use of his real name, and looking past me out the window into the storm-swept parking lot. ‘Donata’s collecting Marinos. She wants you in the fold where she can keep an eye on you. So you know what that means?’

‘What?’

‘It means tough shit.’

We glared at each other as my mother twitched beside me – Don Vincenzo Marino’s eyes mirrored back at each other, shooting mistrust.

The rain thudded relentlessly against the roof. Thunder groaned, rumbling ever closer as the windows rattled in their frames. I could feel my heartbeat in my fingertips. Dread was uncoiling in the pit of my stomach as a new comprehension dawned on me: there was no one left to help us. I had to call the police. I had to take my chances.

‘You should have told me,’ I said. ‘I deserved to know.’

‘I vowed I would tell you if one of us ever came out of hiding.’

‘You are out of hiding.’ Subtly I slid my phone out of my pocket.

‘I tried to tell you at Eden but you wouldn’t listen,’ he said irritably. ‘What does it matter, anyway? You know now. We’ve been running for too long. It’s time to stand up and fight.’

‘I don’t want to fight.’ I unlocked my phone.

Jack’s attention flicked between the parking lot and where I was crouched beside my mother. His eyes narrowed at something outside.

I started to dial, the phone hidden by my side, but Jack whipped around and snatched it from me. He brought his hand down hard across my face. ‘What the fuck are you doing?’ he spat. ‘Calling the police – are you crazy? Do you want to get killed, is that it?’

I lunged at him, but he caught my fists as I slammed them against him. ‘Just go!’ I yelled. ‘What are you waiting for?’

‘Calm down!’ he snapped. I thrashed against him but he held firm, dragging me towards the server line behind the till. He pulled his phone from his pocket. Whoever he was calling answered on the first ring. He spoke low and quickly, his eyes darting around the diner, ignoring my mother as she started groaning. ‘They’re on the move,’ he said. ‘Three.’ Another pause, and then, ‘Watch the front, but I’m guessing they’ll come around the back.’

I glanced over my shoulder. Through the window, in the distance, a flash of lightning illuminated three dark shapes at the very far end of the parking lot. The Falcones were coming. We were caged in.

Jack pulled me back into the kitchen. A strange part of me was glad my mother was out cold for this. If our doom was rising to meet us, at least she wouldn’t have to suffer the terror of it. At least she hadn’t seen those switchblades, the ring, the truth. At least she didn’t realize how depraved her husband really was – how we had both been conned. At least her heart was still whole.

Across the kitchen, the back door was shut and locked. It was heavy and metal – and impenetrable.

‘What are you going to do now?’ I asked, trying and failing to pull him back to the serving section of the diner – to the diner phone.