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“Sorry!” roars Franco, bending down next to Gianni’s ear. “Your inability to not smell a rat nearly got your own cousin killed and now we’re on Ricci’s hit list! He’s gonna want a shoot-out to square this off. He’s not gonna let this lie,” he says again. He turns to face me. “Capo, we need to get ahead of this. He’ll be coming for us.”
“I know, Franco,” I say through gritted teeth. “Let me think.”
“Think?” Franco splutters an incredulous laugh and shakes his head. “It’s thinking that got us into this mess in the first place. Fancy plans and strategy don’t work. We need to act. We need to finish this. We should have just shot the son-of-a-bitch in the first place. I mean, I don’t wanna be the one to say I told you so but—”
“Enough!” I shout, standing, splaying my fingers wide on the desktop. I’m shaking, adrenaline still coursing through my body following the foiled heist, not to mention the girl currently upstairs being attended to by Carmina. Tonight has been a head fuck on so many levels and I need time to reorientate myself.
“Go. Leave me,” I instruct them both. “We’ll talk about this again tomorrow. We all need some rest.”
“Capo, we need—”
“No, Franco. Not now. Do as I ask.” My voice is stern, belying my exhaustion.
He puffs out his pigeon chest, a flash of challenge in his eyes, but he backs down. With a tut and a dismissive wave of his hand, he heads to the doorway. “We’re dead men walking,” he remarks as he retreats down the corridor.
Gianni finally raises his eyes to look at me.
“Save your apology, Gi,” I say. “What did my father used to say? Some rats don’t stink as bad as others. Could’ve happened to any of us. It’s what we do next that matters. Go check on Gustavo.”
“Appreciate that, boss,” he says, standing up.
I slap him on the shoulder as he leaves.
Before he goes, he turns back to me.
“What are you going to do about the girl? She’s in a bad way, yeah?”
I nod. “I don’t know yet. Find out what you can about her, will you? If she is connected to Ricci in some way, it could mean even more trouble for us.”
“Will do, boss.” He closes the study door behind him.
I sigh heavily and sink down in the tub chair Gianni has just left. The worn leather’s still warm. I reach across to the decanter and pour myself a heavy measure of Cutty Sark. The liquor burns my throat as I swallow but it warms me up. I take one more mouthful then leave the empty glass on the desk as I head upstairs.
I catch a glimpse of the sun on the horizon as my heavy legs take me towards the front first floor guestroom. The night is finally over but the days ahead are going to be busy. I briefly wonder if I’ll see many more sun rises once Ricci’s laid down his gauntlet, whatever that may be, but I’m too tired to entertain speculation. What will be will be. Right now, I just want to check that she’s okay.
I push down the handle and open the door, stepping into the dim room. The air smells like antiseptic but it’s warm and comforting. The patient is tucked up in bed, her petite frame barely making a mound under the covers, her long, curly hair cascading over the white cotton covers. I gaze down at her, a scrap of a thing, just her bandaged head exposed. The doctor has been and gone after checking her over and administering a sedative, and Carmina has cleaned her up and dressed her wounds. The bruising looks even more severe now that the blood and dirt has been washed off, but she’ll make a full recovery, the doctor assured us. Her fragile body took a hell of a battering but there are no broken bones and no signs of sexual abuse.
I sit on the edge of the bed and watch her sleeping. Why do I feel so drawn to her? Was it fate finding her in that cellar? Will bringing her here cause more trouble that I could do without? Her rhythmic breaths help to calm my own internal tornado. Her long-lashed eyelids flicker as she slumbers, and I wonder what she sees in her dreams. Will she recognize me when she wakes, or will she be afraid? I can only wait and see. But for now, I need to sleep too.
* * *
With great difficulty, I slide out of Cecelia’s bed, desperately wishing that I could stay longer. That we could continue to enjoy each other’s touch and kisses and bodies like we did last night. However, I’m conscious that Carmina will be here soon, and I don’t want her to get the wrong idea, consider me sordid or that I’ve taken advantage of a young, vulnerable woman. She may be staff, but I care how she sees me. I look down at my sleeping beauty as I dress quickly in yesterday’s clothes, feeling my heart swell with affection. My dick twitches too as I remember the intensity of our passion, the way we moved so perfectly together. I marvel at how much can change in a week. The room still smells of sex and I want nothing more than to wake her with eyelid kisses, to tangle my fingers in her hair, to feel her bare skin against mine. But I can’t. Tonight is Ricci’s reckoning and I need my head in the game or there’ll never be nights like last night ever again.
After I’ve showered, dressed, and eaten the breakfast Carmina brought to my study, along with the news that ‘Miss Cecelia seems a lot brighter today’, Franco, Gianni and Gustavo arrive. It’s the first time I’ve seen Gustavo since that fateful night at Ricci’s base last week and he assures me he’s all patched up and ready to go.
“Good man,” I say, opening my cigarette case and offering them all a smoke. They all take one then we take a seat around the table at the far end of the room. Usually reserved for playing poker, today we need to prepare for a different kind of battle, and there’s a lot more than money at stake.
I look round at my men. Franco, although fat and out of shape, is good with a pistol. He’s been in the outfit the longest so he knows everybody who knows everybody, and we can use that knowledge to our advantage. Gianni is fast and agile, a quick thinker. Gustavo is usually agile too, but his injury might hamper him today. I’ll keep an eye on him.
“Franco, go ahead,” I say, letting my father’s loyal associate take the floor.
“So, sundown at the southside docks,” summarizes Franco. “Everybody familiar with the play?”
We go through every last detail one last time while glasses are emptied and ashtrays are filled—transport, weapons, ammo, back-up, best case scenario, worst case scenario. We’ve already had our lawyer draw up papers in the event of a worst case scenario, not prepared to leave anything to chance after what happened to my father. I’m feeling confident, not cocky, which is good enough for me, and good enough for everyone else in the outfit it seems. I appreciate their faith in me, and I don’t want to let them down. But there’s someone else who might feel let down and I can’t put it off any longer. I head upstairs.
“Cecelia?” I knock gently and wait for a response. Receiving none, I enter and am surprised to find the room empty. The bed has been made, the curtains have been pulled back and the windows have been opened. It no longer smells of sex, but I do detect a hint of something floral.
“If you’re looking for Miss DeMarco, she’s out on the terrace.” I turn in the doorway to see Carmina heading down the stairs, a kind smile on her face but a hint of sadness in her eyes. She knows what tonight means and I suspect she knows what I’m about to do.
