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I got into his car without a word. Evading his explosion would only make it worse, though I had a feeling this would be pretty bad. Did I care? Not really.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Dad snarled the second my door was closed.
“We both know the list is long.”
Dad gripped the steering wheel in a death grip, his knuckles turning whiter than the cocaine the junkies ripped out of our hands. “You were in New York?”
I nodded because Dad knew and only wanted to test me further.
“I lied to Luca and told him you were here. Fuck, the second you went missing, I immediately had a feeling it was because of this nonsense. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
The answer was still the same, but I didn’t bother pointing that out. I also didn’t mention that he had been notorious for his crazy moves when he was younger, kidnapping a bride, for example, and had only calmed slightly since he had family.
“Did you kill that outsider? Because Luca thinks that was you, and I have to agree with his instinct.”
“He picked the wrong girl.”
“Aurora left Las Vegas because she wanted to get away from you. What about this message didn’t you get?”
“You kidnapped Mom. It’s not like you are a shining example of how to treat a woman.”
Dad gripped my throat. I was surprised it had taken this long for him to get violent because his anger must have accumulated over the past few days. Hell, the past few weeks. “This isn’t about your mother and me. She doesn’t know about your mess up, by the way. I lied to her, told her I had sent you away on a special mission, so she doesn’t worry. Fuck, and I had to lie to Fabiano too. I’m stacking up too many lies because of your bullshit.”
“I pissed Luca off. Isn’t that a mission you can get behind?” I asked, grinning despite my lack of oxygen. Dad’s fingers flexed, but he released me, turned away, and started the car as if he needed to busy himself with traffic to make sure he didn’t choke me to death.
“We need peace for Greta’s sake, Nevio. Isn’t that something even your brain should be able to understand?” he gritted out, every word shaky with anger.
I leaned back. This was a topic I had no interest in discussing. If I were keen on war with the Famiglia, my week there would have looked different. Luca hardly gave a fuck about that dead Outsider, and he definitely wouldn’t start a war over him.
“Just give me one reason for this major fuckup. One sane reason that maybe makes me want to send you away a little less.”
“I wanted to show Aurora that I wouldn’t give her up just because she ran away.”
Dad glanced at me, his lack of understanding as plain as day on his face. “What do you want from her? And if your answer is anything less than marry her, then don’t say anything, and for fuck’s sake, let that girl be. She’s Fabiano’s daughter. If you want to mess with a girl’s life, pick another. This is my last warning, Nevio. I won’t risk losing Fabiano because you got it in your head to give chase simply because she started running.”
I kept my mouth shut because fuck if I knew what I wanted with Aurora. I couldn’t let her go. I knew that, and the consequences? Fuck, they would hopefully be worth it.
After six weeks in New York, I returned to Camorra territory with trepidation. My short encounter with Nevio in New York hadn’t been conducive to forgetting him and what had happened between us.
If Nevio’s intention had been to unsettle me, he’d succeeded. Maybe this had turned into a sick game for him. I wouldn’t be played. Still, Marcos’s death weighed heavily on my conscience. Of course, I couldn’t be sure it had been Nevio. Nothing pointed toward him. I wasn’t familiar with his killing style. All my life, I’d done my best not to dwell on what he did not only for the Camorra but also for fun at night. Marcos hadn’t been tortured. The police still thought it was a mugging gone wrong. But Luca’s suspicion had confirmed my own.
Mom, Dad, and Davide had picked me up in New York themselves, and we’d spent two days in the city as a family because I wasn’t returning to Las Vegas right away. I’d spend a few more weeks with the racing circus. I was excited about the chance to see Roman, Adamo, and Dinara again and really spend time with them, as their visits in Las Vegas were usually short.
Dinara hugged me when I got out of Adamo’s car. Roman flung himself into my arms, and I lifted him with a huff. “You’ve gotten heavy!”
It felt as if he’d grown several inches since I’d last seen him.
“We’re so happy that you’re going to join us for a while,” Dinara said with a smile.
“You’re happy to have me as a babysitter,” I joked.
Dinara tossed her red hair back, looking indignant. “You know we love having you. But Roman missed you, so he’ll definitely want to spend time with you.” She grinned, and I laughed.
“I missed him too.” I hugged him even tighter until he started squirming, and I had to set him down.
“We got you your own trailer this time, so you have privacy.” Adamo said led me toward a campervan that stood right beside their mobile home, which was huge compared to most trailers, campervans, and VW buses that many of the drivers used as their home during the races. Of course, most of them didn’t travel with a family.
“And you really want to help our doc and not join the races?” Dinara asked as we sat down in front of their motorhome a bit later for a dinner of grilled steak and delicious Russian potato salad.
