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Emma really is magic. The second I leave her, the guilt slams into me. It punches me right in the gut, not to mention a million other goddamn places. It attacks me from all angles. I went to Emma’s room totalk. I ended up taking my woman’s virginity. The worst part is that I can’t say I regret it, but that doesn’t stop the guilt.
“Are you good?” Dario asks, staring at me from the other side of the car.
Francesco is driving fast, speeding down the lane that will bring us to the highway.
“I’m fine.”
“I know the feeling,” Dario says after a pause as he unloads his pistol, checks the clip, slams it back into place then checks the round in the chamber. “The guilt. I get it, but you couldn’t stop yourselves, could you, either of you? It was the same for us. I know I never talk about this, but that’s the fact. For me and Angelica, it was the same. We couldn’t stop either. It was like we were possessed. I bet this sounds familiar.”
“Maybe,” I grunt, checking my weapon.
“But you can’t focus on that now. Fyodor’s a control freak. His men have advised him not to oversee shipments himself, but he’s doing it anyway.”
“It took a while to get this information,” I say softly.
Dario looks at me bleakly. “That Russian was tough, but he’s ready to be turned over to the cops now. We’ll just have to explain that he suffered a few injuries while we stopped him from killing your lady.”
I clench my hand tight around my pistol when he says that. I remember Emma’s look when that monster wrapped his arm around her, trapping and threatening her. Hell, was that onlyyesterday?
“No. Leave him. I’ll put a bullet in his head when we get back.”
Dario runs a hand through his black hair, wincing. “I thought you might say that, so I’ve already sent him to our police contact.”
“Why thefuckwould you do that, Dario?”
His expression softens. The little boy emerges. “I think you’ll thank me for it when you and Emma settle in, and Rosa gives you her blessing. When you’ve finally found happiness, brother, you’ll be grateful you didn’t start with a murder.”
“That didn’t stop you with Matvei, and it won’t stop me. I can find him.”
“It’s already done, and you’re right. It didn’t stop me, but you’ve got the hope you’ll be happy someday. I’ll always be stuck in the past. It doesn’t matter how many dark deeds I do. I’m too far gone.”
“I hate when you talk like that. It’s not true.”
“For me, Leo, just let the police have him.”
“I killed a man yesterday. I’ll probably have to kill more today. What difference does this make?”
“It changes you, coldly executing somebody. It wears on a man.”
I study my little brother, the pain in his eyes. He was rushed far too quickly into this life. There’s nothing left to do. If Dario does something, it’s always effective. I could get the Russian back from the police or arrange to have him killed in prison.
“He better get a long, long sentence,” I growl. “If there’s any chance he gets out…”
“He’s getting life. I’ve already made sure of that.”
I grunt and turn to the window.
“When the war’s over, we can return to normal, can’t we? Tobeingnormal?”
“Were we ever normal?” I say.
“Maybe not. I don’t know. Maybe when we were kids.”
We don’t say anything for a long time, and then we pull up at the far end of the docks where the shipment is supposedly taking place. Francesco slows the car down when he sees the flashing lights, theFBIvans, and the uniformed officers lining the street.
There are at least ten Russians lined up against a wall and a bald man in a suit pacing up and down, shouting into a walkie-talkie as officers pat down the Russians. Some officers are slapping cuffs on them. I step out of the car.
“What are you doing?” Dario says.
