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“Santo. Can you tell me anything, anything at all that will vindicate you? I don’t want to be the one.”
The one to punish him. The one to take his life. He knows what I mean.
Santo takes a deep breath, then lets it out slowly. “I hate not being able to tell you everything. I promise, I would die before I betrayed you. You know that, Tavi. I saved Elise because I knew they’d kill her.”
I frown and shake my head. “When will you be able to tell us everything?”
“Soon,” he says. “I don’t care if you exile me. I don’t care if you punish me. Just don’t off me, brother. You’ll know why soon enough.”
“Will anything give us the truth?” He knows exactly what I mean.
Elise goes real quiet and lowers the gun, though it’s still pointing at him.
“I think he’s telling the truth, Tavi.”
The fact that she’s pleading for him means something. She wanted to kill him earlier.
She either knows something or suspects something I don’t.
I stare at her. “What the fuck do you know you ain’t comin’ off of?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t know anything that you don’t, but I have suspicions. I’m not going to say anything until the time is right, because I’m not going to assign motives where there may not be any. But I think he’s telling the truth, Tavi.” She shakes her head. “I really do.”
“It will be up to Romeo.”
Romeo is loyal, and he loves his family, but if Santo betrayed us in any way, Romeo will have his head. Literally.
But Santo saved my life. Santo saved Elise.
Or did he?
“Ah, Tavi?” Elise says. “I think we’re being followed…”
Santo heaves himself up. His face has gone even paler, and his eyes look almost bloodshot from straining. He looks out the window.
“I came here to end the Regazza threats against us,” he says. “But they had many alliances.”
But when I turn and look out the window, whoever is following is gone. I grit my teeth as our car takes the off ramp and heads to the narrower road that takes us back to the vineyard.
Elise shakes her head. “No. They’re gone.”
But I know better than to believe that. They aren’t gone. They’ve only gone out of our line of sight.
I exhale and inhale slowly. Thinking.
Santo needs medical help or he’ll be useless. Though I won’t take him to the hospital, I’ve got a contact here who will come at a moment’s notice. I make a quick call and give short, clipped instructions. I hang up the phone and look to see Santo’s passed out. His head lolls to the side.
“Is he dead?” Elise whispers. Not an hour ago, I’d have thought she’d wish this on him. But now she looks scared at the very thought.
We’re only several minutes away from the house now. Our driver isn’t used to driving a getaway vehicle. If it comes to a shootout, it’s me and Elise.
I look grimly at her hand trembling on the pistol, and wonder. Has anything changed between us?
“Will there be blowback from the Regazzas?” I ask Elise.
“I don’t know…” she says with a frown. “I’m telling you right, Tavi, I may have married into your family, but I have goddamn clout with mine. And if they think for one minute that they’re—”
She freezes when we pull up to the new house.
“What?”
“Thought I saw something just now.” She shakes her head and shivers.
We have a large staff that mans the vineyard, but most of them should’ve gone home by now. I check her gun and hand it back to her, then check mine. My eyes focused ahead of me, I reach for Santo’s wrist and check his pulse. The low overhead light from the house shines on his rose. I swallow hard and feel his low pulse.
He needs help. Now.
“Stay here,” I whisper to Elise. “The doctor will be here any minute.”
She nods. She may still hate me, but for now we’re in this together.
I open the door. Santo’s eyes open and he pushes himself up.
“Lay down,” I tell him. “I’ve got this.”
I feel Elise watching me from behind. I feel Santo’s slow pulse, as he bleeds out onto my T-shirt in the back of the car. I feel the weight of the entire Rossi family on my shoulders.
My blood thrums hot in my veins, like a shot of adrenaline’s been pumped into me.
I won’t creep around this car looking for anyone. I won’t cow in the face of fucking anything. I push the door open and yell, “Anyone out here, fucking face me. Don’t be a motherfucking coward.” Then I repeat the same thing in Italian, just for the hell of it.
No one comes. I look at every shadow, look behind every corner and in every crevice, but no one’s there. No one at all.
