Inferno(96)

‘Family business,’ she said, and I felt the whisper of her smile in the hairs on my neck. ‘Let me explain something to you, Sophie.’ She was breathing so heavily I couldn’t hear myself think. ‘When I was a little girl, my sister stole my favourite doll while I was at school and cut all her hair off. When I got home, I seethed for two days and two nights. Then on the third day, I told her that in revenge I was going to go out to our garden shed, open the hutch inside it and take the head off her pet bunny rabbit.’

I struggled harder, but she clamped down, speaking faster. ‘Elena was terrified. She wanted to know when I was going to do it. As a matter of fairness, I told her I would do it in two weeks’ time, on the fourteenth day, and that I would wait until she was asleep so she couldn’t stop me.’

The gas was filling up the room with frightening speed. I could already smell the sulphuric burn sticking to the inside of my nostrils. There was another crash – and this time Nic’s voice rang out above the thunder and the rain. ‘Marino, you coward! Open up!’

Nic. I shut my eyes tight. Dammit.

Donata was still talking. ‘Instead of coming on the fourteenth day, she spent every single one of those nights camped outside in a sleeping bag, waiting for me. Once she knew I was going to do it, she couldn’t help herself. She couldn’t stand the suspense, the idea of not truly knowing when or how I would strike. Her protective instincts drove her to that cold, damp shed, and her fear kept her there. It deprived her of sleep, of sanity … and still, when the day came, I took the head as I swore I would.’

Jack was circling the kitchen. He had unstuck the cork noticeboard and wedged it beside the stove, and now he was dropping everything flammable he could find on to the floor, throwing tablecloths and napkins around the countertops like he was playing with streamers.

‘You see, Sophie,’ said Donata, ‘Elena has always been calculated, cautious … predictable.’ I could feel the smile in her last sentence. ‘Gianluca Falcone is every bit his mother’s son. He will always place himself where the threat is greatest. And that’s how I know he’s outside that door right now.’

As if in answer, the door clanged again and this time a hinge crumbled.

Donata’s laugh rang out. ‘The underboss is Valentino’s highest protection. He only comes out of his brother’s shadow when he knows real, palpable danger is near. Caution has brought him here tonight, and his predictability will get him killed.’

I shut my eyes tight. Luca wouldn’t leave Valentino in the middle of a blood war.

There’s no way.

We were facing the caving metal doorway from across the kitchen. Behind us the passage was free, safe from the destruction Jack was cultivating. As the full horror of their plan crystallized before me, Jack’s psychotic laugh surged through the kitchen, rising up with the gas.

‘Come on in, boys!’





CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

THE EXPLOSION



I knocked my head backwards, smashing it against Donata’s collarbone.

‘Stop it,’ she hissed, wrangling me against her. ‘Or I’ll split your head against the stove and leave you here to burn with your boyfriends. If you’re not with us, you’re against us.’

Across the room, my mother stumbled to her feet, one hand clamped on her head and the other clutching her stomach. Watching the glazed expression on her face and the way her mouth was twisting with pain, I felt only dread.

‘Sophie?’ she slurred. She barely reacted to the fact that I was being restrained by Donata Marino. She double-blinked, flinching. ‘What is this?’

Her eyes grew as she noticed the acrid smell. She sniffed the air, her lip curling. ‘Oh,’ she gasped, whirling on Jack. ‘What are you doing?’ She staggered past my uncle, making a beeline for the stove.

Another metallic thump sounded and the floor reverberated. The lock on the door came unhinged.

My mother reached one of the burners. Jack dived at her. He grabbed her by the elbow and jerked her backwards, slamming her head against the island. She slid to the ground, leaving a streak of blood against the wood.

I screamed so hard into Donata’s hand that I almost suffocated myself. My knees buckled but she held me up, propped against her.

Jack yanked the gas line out from behind the stove and ripped it from the wall. It popped with a hiss and the air around it started furrowing. Coughing with violent force, Jack grabbed me and pulled me backwards, floundering across the kitchen, away from the fumes as they surged around us.

Donata took the duffel bag and retreated into the serving section as my uncle crushed me against him. My mother was lying in a sprawled heap between the stove and the island.