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I look at her, and I try to get my thoughts to come out of my mouth. I observe that I’ve started to shake all over, and internally, I want to bow down to that power, to the power of Elise. She is my heart. Forever.

So it’s fitting that I rip it out.

I say, “I think that I need a change.”

I see the horror I should feel reflected on her perfect face. “What do you mean?” she whispers.

When I’m dead, I’ll haunt you in the best way. If you lose your keys, I’ll move them somewhere you can find them.

I’m breathing so fast I can’t speak to answer.

“What the hell do you mean?”

I blink, and she starts to weep. “Luca, are you breaking up with me?”

I nod. I’m like a puppet with a hand inside. The nod means nothing, but her face tells me it’s not the same for her.

I’m breaking up with Elise. I laugh at the insanity.

“What’s the matter with you?” she cries.

“Nothing.” I sound hoarse, but my voice steadies as I look at her and realize that she’ll never be the wife on the salon floor.

Something warmer rushes up my throat and burns my cheeks and stings my eyes as her lips tremble. Then she locks her face down, nods just once, and spins on her heel. She runs all the way to Max’s as I watch the moonlight move over the crown of her head. Then I turn and walk toward a street where I can hail a cab.Chapter Twenty-EightLucaThe cab driver says he’ll wait at the dock. I get out, surprised by how steady I feel. Lights and water. Everything smells like the water. I don’t like the dock now. Elise—everywhere, a ghost—and I just want to detach from it.

I know I owe Soren, but he’ll be all right. Soren’s smart. My mom… I think my dad had life insurance.

“I love you, Elise O’Hara. Always.”

“I love you more.”

“It hurts for girls. Close your eyes and take a few deep breaths.”

The passcode is the same. The gun is in the bathroom, in a drawer. I know it’s loaded because I checked when we were here on prom night.

It’s cold in my hand. I can’t tell if it’s heavy. I sink down to my knees in front of the toilet. Blue water. It smells like soap.

“Your dad’s a rat. He’s been squealing to the FBI.”

I don’t like this floating feeling. I stand up and I make myself check the gun. Still loaded. I don’t want to hurt Tony. I do want to, but I wouldn’t. I just want to tell him he’s a piece of shit and maybe scare him.

I want to talk to Roberto Arnoldi. I just want to know why.

After that…* * *Back inside the cab, where it smells like popcorn. The cab ride feels too long. The gun’s handle is grooved, like tiny diamonds in a rough rub pattern. I rub my thumb over it. It’s shoved into my pocket. I try to smile at the driver in the rear view mirror. Not a smile, but that thing you can do with your lips that’s like a greeting.

Don’t worry; it’s not for you.

My heart is still beating too fast. Racing. My heart’s racing. I just want Elise. Knowing that it’s over burns. I have to stop the burning, but I don’t know how.

Everything about the building is the same. I don’t like how I’m different.

Maybe I just want to see him. Maybe I do want to kill him.

I don’t want to kill him.

I’m a nice guy. There’s only one person a nice guy can kill.

The elevator takes me up, and she was right—the daughter, Isa. It’s a wedding party. Lots of people, and I don’t know how to find him. I guess I’ll just walk around until I see him.

I should have told him to shoot me. Maybe I’d be dead, but I’m dead anyway. Diamond’s got no balls, so maybe he wouldn’t have done it. Dad might be alive if I had gambled.

I don’t like the noises at the party. I don’t like the people.

I think of Elise…the way her hands would feel on my face. I like how she rubs my hair back. Sometimes she traces my eyebrows, and it’s sort of weird, but it feels good.

Max said Elise wasn’t at the party. Elise loves me. Even though I want her to move on, I kind of hope she always loves me. I need to be loved by someone.

My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep; the more I give thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.

It’s so terrible how this is turning out.

I spot him standing in the doors between the food room and the dance room. He’s wearing a tuxedo. He looks like a dead man. But I see him older. Tony will get older; he’ll kill other people. He’ll mop blood up. He’ll harass old men, and the old men will be addicts who can’t walk home from their store. Tony is a poison.

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