Page 48 of Thin Lives

Only a few were left—most were his uncle’s men.

He took note of Emma climbing into the back of Affonso’s Mercedes when a door was opened for her by the driver. Pulling the fob to his own vehicle out of his pocket, Calisto hit the unlock button as he came around to the side of his SUV. Once inside, and hidden by the dark tinted windows, Calisto finally felt like he could breathe a little bit better.

Strange how that worked.

When surrounded by people he knew, he still felt incredibly alone.

It didn’t seem to matter the circumstance.

Yet, there were still a few people who didn’t make him feel that way. People like Emma. To him, that was even stranger considering he literally didn’t know her at all.

At least, not right now.

But it was possible you did, his mind whispered.

Calisto ignored his inner voice.

The cars ahead of his started moving out of their parked spots, allowing Calisto the distraction of driving for the time being. He was grateful. As it was, he found himself spending far too much time lost in his damn thoughts and trying to figure out the mess that was his life.

Easing his own car behind the fleet of vehicles, Calisto cursed, knowing he should be a few cars ahead. That would put him directly behind Affonso, where he needed to be. His distraction earlier with Emma had put him off his game. Given the tensions between the Donati Cosa Nostra, and the New Jersey Irish mob, no one needed to be taking any unnecessary risks.

Especially not after Calisto had gotten notice from his men that there had been Irish seen in vehicles near the church earlier that day.

As he watched Affonso’s vehicle get closer to the exit of the cemetery, Calisto’s unease picked up a notch. He wasn’t sure why, but his attention was drawn from Affonso’s Mercedes to the road just beyond the exit. A black car with dark windows slowed behind a delivery truck as they passed the cemetery.

Calisto knew it then.

He just … knew.

Before the car ahead of Affonso pulled out, before the window of the black car on the road rolled down, and before the barrage of bullets sliced through the air … Calisto knew that the Irish were about to unleash hell.

All sorts of hell.

Calisto watched, horrified, as bullets from a semi-automatic rifle blew into Affonso’s Mercedes just a few cars ahead of his own. The slow moving fleet of vehicles came to a standstill, as did Calisto’s own SUV. His instincts told him to duck as he watched the glass from the windshield in Affonso’s car explode with shatters flying everywhere.

And yet, Calisto didn’t duck.

He threw his car in park.

He was jumping out before the bullets had even stopping flying.

With his heart in his throat, he hit the ground running as soon as he was out of his SUV. Shaking, he reached back for the gun he usually kept holstered to his back, but came up with nothing. He’d taken the damn thing off that morning because he didn’t like to bring guns to church.

Fuck.

Calisto was regretting that choice now.

Making a fast beeline straight for the car he knew housed his uncle, the driver, and Emma, Calisto barely heard the screech of tires fill the air. He didn’t bother watching the car speed off down the road, as he was too concerned with making it to the Mercedes, even though he didn't know what he might find.

From the vehicles he passed, he could hear muffled screaming and shouts as someone dialed nine-one-one. Calisto paid them no mind.

He was too busy watching the Mercedes. He was too concerned with the fact he couldn’t see movement through the dark tinted window of the back, and how not one person had exited the vehicle since the shooting had stopped several seconds before.

It felt like time had just slowed.

He couldn’t move fast enough.

What was even odder, was that while he knew he should be most concerned about his uncle’s welfare, his mind was screaming someone else’s name.