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But then came Neomi, stepping into my life like an uninvited virus, but she did the opposite of what I’d thought. She healed that pain and fear of love.
And that love will grow each day we’re together until it fills my soul.
I can’t lose her.
We’re in a private waiting room. Concetta sobs while Severino sits, stone-faced, with perfect posture. Isabella and Bria are slouched in their chairs, and their eyes are swollen. Gigi and Natalia sit quietly in the corner.
“I’ve never wanted to die before,” I tell him with a gulp. My voice is low, only loud enough for him to hear. “But seeing Neomi unresponsive on the ground, I felt that. When the nurses took her away from me, I realized if she didn’t make it out of this, I wouldn’t want to be here either.”
Wherever she goes, I go.
If she doesn’t make it, I don’t want to either.
My father exhales a long breath. “You can’t do that. Who’d kill the man who shot her?”
“You.”
“Son, you have too much of a thirst for vengeance, especially in a situation like this.”
“I don’t think she’ll make it.”
“She will.”
“Mom didn’t.”
He jerks back, his head hitting the wall.
“It’s a Marchetti curse.”
“Don’t you dare fucking say that,” he hisses.
A drive-by shooting claimed my mother’s life. She bled out in my father’s arms before they made it to the hospital. My father has come a long way since her death, but he’s never been the same. He’s become crueler and more of a menace.
My blood runs hot when there’s a soft knock on the door before it opens. Dr. Jansky walks into the room, and I already want to lose it. He’s the doctor who broke the news of my mother’s death. He’d tried to save her, even when the nurses declared her DOA, but it was too late.
He shakes my clammy hand and then does the same with Severino, Concetta, and my father.
“Neomi is stable,” Dr. Jansky says before pausing, like he knows any further word said will be interrupted by our reactions.
“Oh, thank God,” Concetta yelps.
I briefly shut my eyes and place my fisted hand to my mouth.
My father draws in a breath through his nose.
Severino’s bulky shoulders loosen.
“She got lucky,” he finally continues, his voice soothing. “Thankfully, the bullet didn’t cause any internal damage. She lost a significant amount of blood, so we had to perform a transfusion.” He straightens his glasses. “I want to keep her here for a few days to watch her recovery.” His eyes are comforting when they meet mine. “They are transferring her to the second floor. A nurse will come and let you know when she’s able to have visitors.”
* * *
I endLuca’s call and look at my father. “It was a Lombardi. One of Cavallaro’s men took a picture of the license plate and ran it through the system.”
“Stupid fuckers didn’t even use an unmarked car.” He works his jaw. “It’s like they wanted us to know it was them.”
“Word is, it was Lombardi’s last wish to kill me. A son for a son.”
“Last wish?” He furrows his brow. “What does that mean?”
