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Sandro murmurs something to Jacopo, and they move toward me like a storm rolling in.
“Leo,” Sandro calls out, his voice just loud enough to be heard over the thrash metal Gertie’s played all night. “We need to talk.”
I don’t know why they’re here, but any ceasefire we had before is over now, as far as I’m concerned. “Leave me alone,” I slur out.
“We just want a word, Big Guy.” Jacopo’s tone is easy, but I don’t trust him. He’s always been loyal to Sandro,andhe was the one who fucking brained me at Roxy’s place, brained me without a second thought.
In a split-second decision, I bolt from my seat and throw myself clumsily over the bar, all that bourbon making me unsteady. But I make it over—taking out a few empty glasses on the way, as Gertie shrieks and darts to one side—and then I’m at the back door.
“Leo, wait!”
The Castellanis shout after me, but I don’t look back. My body moves on instinct, fueled by adrenaline as I crash through the door and into the night.
The shadows seem to close in on me as I swerve drunkenly into the alley wall. My mind races with thoughts of Julian—his touch, his scent, hisvulnerability—
If these fuckers have done something to him…
“Leo, you can’t run from us,” Sandro calls out from behind, his voice echoing off the grimy brick walls. My fingers twitch at my sides, itching for a weapon that isn’t there, because I left it at home like a fucking idiot, and I turn around to face them.
What ifthey’vedone something to Julian?
And more—what if Vinnie Esposito was killed by these two assholes?
The thought is a bucket of ice water. It makes sense in a weird, twisted way. Maybe Sandro’d had enough of his brother fucking the enemy, so he and Jacopo worked together to take the Esposito down. Set up Julian, make an excuse for the Family to get rid of him…
“Stay the fuck back!” I yell. They’re too close now, and I’m too uncoordinated after all that bourbon. I can’t run. But I can still fight.
Jacopo reaches me first. Sandro can’t bring himself to move faster than a stroll.
I take a wild swing, but Jacopo dodges. “Where’s Julian?” he demands.
“Go to hell!” I snarl, lunging at him. My fist flies just past his jaw as he ducks, and I lurch forward,waytoo fucking full of bourbon, but manage to regain my balance, and turn to take another run at him.
“Cut it out!” Jacopo snaps. “We only want Julian.”
At least that tells me Julian hasn’t been taken out by these two. Yet. “Yeah?” I say. “Well, you get me instead.”
I swing another punch at Jacopo, catching him this time in a glancing blow, but he counters with a sharp jab to my gut that steals my breath and makes all that bourbon in my belly turn over. Disoriented, I lose my footing and hit the asphalt, rolling over onto my back just as Sandro arrives.
I look up at both of them as they stand there over me, two dark demons against a backdrop of the Los Angeles night sky. “Fuck you.”
“Stay down, Big Guy,” Jacopo tells me, rubbing his face where my fist connected. “Please.”
“You gonna kill me, get the fuck on with it,” I snarl.
“Listen!” Sandro says, imperious as always. “We’re not here to hurt you.” He kneels beside me, knee digging into my shoulder so I can’t move. “We’re not going to hurt Julian, either. We just want to find him.”
The urgency in his voice finally penetrates the haze of anger and drink clouding my mind, and I stop struggling.
“Julian has disappeared,” Sandro says, his voice low and urgent. “Again. Last time he disappeared like this, I know you were tailing him. So answer me. Where is he?”
“How the fuck should I know?”
Sandro glances up at Jacopo, and something passes between them.
“Leo,” Jacopo says, crouching down as well, “We’re just trying to find him before he does any more damage to the Families here in LA. I know you don’t want a war. I know Julian doesn’t, either. Not usually. Not when he’s…in his right mind.”
“Sane?” I let out a chuckle. “He’s never been officially diagnosed, you know.” I slur a little over the worddiagnosed.
