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It was over. There was nothing I could do. This was happening.
I could only pray Marco would somehow figure this out. But two weeks had passed. Two weeks in which Marco had not caught on to Jacob’s actions at all. He trusted Jacob that much. With everything. Marco would never see it coming.
He was going to die in prison like my dad, all alone, far from everyone he loved. And there was nothing I could do to stop it.
I would never see him again. Never tell him how sorry I was for my part in all this. Never get to hold him again.
And I would never hold my mom again either, never whisper to her that everything was going to be alright. She’d be all alone. What would happen to her?
This was really happening. And I had sat here for two weeks and done nothing. I had been too scared to take my chances these past couple of days. I had been a coward.
Tears poured down my cheeks.
“But what about Chiara?” I whispered. “What about Amara? They won’t be at the house tonight, will they? Please don’t harm them.”
“Vittoria loves Amara. There’s no need for the little girl to come to harm.”
He turned to leave. I clung to the door, bruising my hands in it when he slammed it shut. “What about Chiara?” I screamed.
He pushed me back impatiently, looking irritated. “Chiara has never been happy about me and her mother. Her eyes are too sharp for her own good. She may not have mentioned anything to Marco yet, but I can’t trust her to hold her tongue after he’s arrested. Sadly, she’s made herself into a liability.”
He shoved me back, slammed the door shut after him and left me alone with Jonathan. All my hope gone.
Chapter 37
MARCO
I got home from the boxing gym in a foul mood. I’d left work early because I couldn’t focus, thinking beating the crap out of an opponent would get rid of my demons. But I was still in the mood to kill someone or something.
That bastard Landry, for starters. Two weeks it had been, and there was no sign of him. Jacob had assured me he had a new lead, a good one. But Jacob’s assurances were wearing thin.
I slammed the door on my way into my house—father’s damned house—where I had never planned to live anyway. But I couldn’t move out until Chiara was well again. She had barely spoken two words to me this past fortnight.
Mother was terrified she might go out and overdose again.
Mother was also terrified of keeping her from seeing her friends for fear she might sink into a depression and harm herself.
“Something’s not right,” she’d said to me. “Won’t you talk to her, Marco? She’s always been close to you.”
Yeah, right. Every time I walked into a room, she walked out.
My slamming of the front door brought Amara scampering down the stairs, her arms raised, wanting a hug. I obliged. Briefly.
“I’ve got work to do,” I said, pushing her away.
Her lower lip started trembling. “But I want you to play with me. You never play any more.”
“I’m busy, Amara. Go play with Chiara.”
She stamped her foot. “I want to play with Beth! Where’s Beth?”
The mention of Beth’s name made me grind my teeth. How the fuck was I supposed to know where Beth was? Since she’d gone, I had pushed the damn woman out of my mind.
“Beth isn’t coming back,” I growled. “Get used to it.”
Amara burst into tears. Loud ones. Wailing like her hair was on fire.
Mamma came hurrying out of the lounge and hugged her. Glowered at me.
