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“I know.”
I sigh. He’s right. She is safe. At least two men from my family go with her everywhere. She convinced me the morning after I left to let her go to work. I hate the idea that she’s anywhere in public after being shot at, but she said it would be way more conspicuous if she just stopped showing up. Keeping her routine as normal as possible might keep Simms from thinking we know anything about him. I agreed partly because she might be right, but mainly because I feel horrible having her cooped up. So much of our relationship so far has been avoiding threats and keeping her locked away.
“I’m going to take a shower. He was the last one on the list. I’m going home to Chellie.”
I strip down, not caring who sees me. Both men changed my diapers, and I apparently peed on both of them at least twice. I toss my clothes in the burn bin along with my empty water bottle. I drained it while turning on the shower. I step in and let the pinpricks of water beat down on me.
My injuries weren’t nearly as bad as they seemed right after getting shot. Auntie Carlotta put stitches in my shoulder and ribs, but both bullets only grazed me. I thought one went into my ribs, but luckily, it didn’t. I’m not a hundred percent back to normal because of those stitches. But I have a lot more mobility in my shoulder than I expected, and my ribs only ache rather than being cracked. I’d say I’m at ninety percent, give or take.
I breathe deeply as I bow my head, then tilt it back to let the water hit my face. I can’t stay in here forever, even though I’d like to. I hurry to scrub my hair. While I’m scrubbing my body like a surgeon prepping to go into the OR, something comes to me.
“Motherfuckers!”
I rinse before turning off the water. As I wrap a towel around my waist, I lean out to see my two uncles.
“Those fuckers lied. The O’Rourkes. Enrique isn’t doing shit to us, but they knew we’d go chasing down any lead. They fucking did this to distract us. They want to handle Simms themselves. They want to be the heroes. They want to prove that neither we nor the bratva can protect our women. They’d shame us while gloating.”
I think back to when we all gathered at Uncle Salvatore’s. Something clicks.
“This is Finn. He’s the one doing this.”
Uncle Salvatore’s brow furrows.
“Why?”
“He wants Chellie. I saw the way he looked at her, but I didn’t think much of it because I was concentrating on her. But now that I think back, he was definitely eyeing her, and not like someone he knew as a kid.”
“That makes no sense. They haven’t been around each other in years.”
“Maybe they have, and Chellie never knew. If they promised Chellie’s grandfather they’d watch over his family, then maybe he’s been around Chellie more than we could guess. He wants to be the fucking hero.”
Uncle Domenico shakes his head and frowns.
“That makes no sense. It was obvious how much Michelle loves you and that you return her feelings. There’s no way she would leave you for him. He couldn’t think that was possible.”
“It would be if I got killed in the process of hunting down some Cartel member who doesn’t exist. Enrique wouldn’t order a hit on me, but we all know how possible it is to die during some meeting that gets fucked up. Then he’d swoop in and save her. Finn was the one who announced it.”
I yank on fresh clothes and run my finger through my hair. I want to go straight home to Chellie, but I have another stop to make first. Uncle Salvatore’s tone when he speaks is the one I hear when he’s my don not my uncle.
“Enzo, don’t do anything rash.”
“I’m not going to. I’m thinking things through as you speak.”
Chellie’s my fiancée, so Uncle Salvatore will give me the lead on this. He’ll let me do what I think is necessary. I drove here, so I back my car out of the bay where we park rather than torture. I watch the buildings I pass, and as soon as I know I’m safe to turn on my phone I do. I quickly glance at the names of missed texts and calls. None so important that I need to deal with them now. I hit my cousin’s name on my speed dial.
“Hey.”
“Carmine, I need you to locate Finn. I need to see him now.”
“Why?”
“Don’t ask.”
“Well, now you know I’m not saying shit until you tell me.”
I hear a door close, so I’m guessing Serafina’s home since I’m positive he’s in his home office at this time of day. He’s probably going over construction invoices since he’s our project manager on almost all sites. He enjoys going out there and working alongside the men, but he accepts that there are menial tasks that go along with it. The joys of being a structural engineerandthe company owner’s nephew.
“Car, I’ll explain later. I really need to know this.”
