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"Fine. You want to chalk it up to nothing? I'll take it as a freebie. You're still going to agree to the contract."
"You don't know that."
"I know you'll do it to protect your family."
I rear back like I've been slapped. "Is that a threat?"
Nico laughs without humor."Cielo aiutami.No. Did you forget that the Gattos have their claws in their life and in yours? You can't stop them from taking what they want. You need me."
What a narcissist. "My family and I are fine, not that you're really concerned. You're an opportunist, you know that? Just because you kidnapped me away from my murderous kidnappers—"
"They weren't going to kill you, Sybil. They were going to fucking sell you."
Sell me? As in…oh. Nausea fills me at the thought. I don't know how Nico is so sure of this, but I suddenly realize he's right. They were taking me far away, unharmed. If they were going to kill me, they would have done it much sooner.
I know the Gattos are involved in things like that. I'd brought it up with Angela years ago when she first started getting involved with them. She had shrugged it off, saying it wasn't our business, but she liked how they ran things when it came to drugs. That was the main reason she went to them, anyway, and the real reason she built up such a massive amount of debt to them that my family and I are still trying to put a dent in.
I guess the Gattos decided selling me would put another dent in it. I swallow, trying not to panic. If they failed with me, how long will it really be before they go back to my family? Before they eye Krista or hook Mark into everything?
That's it. It's really time for my family and me to leave.
We've thought about leaving for a long time, ever since my father died. We tried a couple of years ago. But the Gattos had caught us on our way out. The moving truck had its tires slashed, and everything we had packed into it the night before—memorabilia and the little we had—was trashed. They'd said we were free to try leaving again, but Angela's debt would follow us. They said they had connections all over. Whether we moved back to Ohio or Timbuktu, they'd make sure we paid up.
Leaving won't fix most of our problems, and the Gattos might retaliate again. But maybe it would keep them from trying something like kidnapping again.
Nico sees the struggle on my face and that I've absorbed just how dire my situation really is. He folds his arms, anger still boiling—but I hate that he now seems smug, too. He is so used to getting what he wants.
"There. As I said, you need me."
"What Ineed," I grumble, "is to get out of here and get home. And thanks to you, I've got a lot more to worry about."
"Me? You're the one who got involved with the Gattos in the first place by helping them."
I snap, stepping up closer to him. "Don't be an idiot. Do you think I did that willingly? I would never do anything to help them. The only reason I was there that day was to protect my family."
He scoffs, looking away. "You mean you did it to protect your no-good crack whore of a sister."
Ice fills my veins. How dare he? I've never wanted to hit someone this badly in my life, but at the same time, the horrible squeezing feeling in my chest makes it impossible to breathe.
"You don't know anything."
"I know you stepped in as her substitute. You tried to protect her—"
"And Ifailed."
My voice breaks. Tears have blurred my vision, but I weakly scrub them away, refusing to meet his eye as he finally looks back at me. I hate that he's seeing me cry.
"I failed in every way possible. It didn't matter that I did everything they asked or that I took the fall. It wasn't enough to save her. I wasn't enough. So thatno-good crack whoresisterof mine? You'll be happy to hear that they killed her. Brutally. I lost that day, too, more than you'll ever know."
The tears are dripping off my chin now. I don't want anyone to see me like this, least of all Nico Attolini. So instead of facing him down the way I wanted, I slip back into the bedroom of the little apartment and lock the door, curling up on the bed and trying to muffle my sobs.
You would think four years would be enough time to mourn, but it isn't. Not when I lost my carbon copy—my best friend. Not when I'm the one who found the body. Not when I was the one who was supposed to save her from herself.
My fault. I can't blame her because it's my fault.
Chapter 8
Nico
