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“With bells on,” Angelo drawls.
“I’ll pick you up,” I tell him, and then hang up the phone.
Then I hear a voice call out, “Nico? Where are you going?”
I turn around to see Aurora standing halfway up the staircase.
“Principessa,” I murmur, my eyes fixed on the scar on her cheek. She seems to notice, putting her hand up to her face, and I catch her pretty eyes instead.
“What’s the rush?” she asks, yawning. “It’s early.”
I swallow hard, wondering if I should tell her or not.
“I’m going after Marco Barone,” I say finally, not wanting to lie to her, and her hand goes to her mouth now.
“You can’t do that,” she says quickly, descending the stairs with her hand trailing along the railing. “You’re not doing that.”
“Somebody has to,” I say, heading to the armory. It’s in the back of the house, hidden, but Aurora follows me nonetheless.
“Nico, we need to talk about this,” she insists. “I’m safe here. Dante’s keeping me safe.”
“You won’t have to be kept safe if I take him out,” I say simply, taking out some hardware from the armory. I pick out a nice little automatic for Angelo, knowing he’ll never give it back.
I throw everything into a duffel bag and Aurora’s just looking at me, her eyes wide and shining.
“Youcan’t,” she sobs, following me to the door, and I turn around to look at her, putting a hand on her arm.
“It’s gonna be okay, Aurora,” I tell her. “Don’t worry,principessa. I’ve got this. I’ve got you.”
She hitches in a breath and watches me go, and my heart aches that I didn’t kiss her goodbye but I don’t think I’d be able to leave if I had.
I swing by and pick up Angelo and he whistles when I open the duffel bag and show him the contents.
“I’m keeping that automatic,” he says, and I snort out a laugh.
“I figured.”
“You don’t even have topayme for this,” Angelo continues, hopping in the car as I shut the trunk. “I’ve been wanting to get rid of Marco Barone ever since he hit on my girlfriend.”
I raise an eyebrow as I get in the car. “You don’t have a girlfriend.”
“Not anymore,” he says mysteriously, and I don’t ask questions because Angelo wouldn’t tell me anyway. He keeps his personal life to himself, and I don’t blame him. In this lifestyle, it’s better to keep your mouth shut.
We travel to the worst parts of the city, checking out the closest warehouse first. I’m pretty sure it’s not the one because it seems like a ghost town, and sure enough, there’s nothing but rats and mold in there.
“How many of these are there?” Angelo complains.
“Just three,” I answer.
“Three?” he whines, always impatient, and I chuckle.
“Listen, if we don’t find him, you can shoot the rats,” I joke.
“Promise?”
I laugh, loud and open, and I feel like I’ve been missing this part of my life ever since I went on the run with Aurora. I’m the muscle, just a low-level thug, and it’s something that I like about my job. I don’t have to worry about a reputation or money or the hierarchy of wiseguys. I just get to beat and shoot, and it’s something that takes my mind off the shit going on in my life..
Maybe it’s weird, but I do love my job.
