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“Think about Uncle Vincent, all the favorite things you’ve done with him, and every memory he’s given you. Can you do that?”
I wished I had a memory of my mother. Just one to keep me warm at night when I tossed and turned, and my life felt like a chaotic mess I couldn’t fix.
The thing about love is, it hurts when you lose it, but it hurts more to never have it in the first place.
Tessie nodded her head, her eyes still squeezed shut. “Yes.”
“If you can hold on to those memories and those feelings, he will always be with you.”
My voice broke.
My mom was never with me.
Tessie peeked an eye open. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
My heart broke for her, but it broke for me, too.
BASTIANO ROMANO
The city lights left the alley behind Depravity unscathed. I barely made out the scattered trash and cigarette buds under the dim moonlight.
A black cat hid in the corner, but I paid it no attention as I swung my leg at the dumpster container. It didn’t move an inch.
Pain shot up my leg, and the cat darted away like even it didn’t want to remain in the shadows with me.
Another place empty.
Another place without Vincent.
And my gut—the gut that wouldn’t shut up—whispered, he’s already gone. You’ll never find him.
Weeks ago, Vince had set Niccolaio up with a safe house to hide from the bounty on his head.
Niccolaio had been attacked, and sometime before Vince had gone missing, he’d captured him. Tortured him. Accused Vince of betraying his location, then let him go when he’d realize his mistake.
And then Vince vanished.
No trace behind.
Not a coincidence.
Uncle Frankie expected all of us not to blame Niccolaio, but I couldn’t. I got it.
I did.
He’d made a mistake, and Vince forgave him, so we should, too. But it was easier to blame Niccolaio than myself, for not understanding why my own uncle left. And we knew he’d left.
It was the only way he could have eluded his security.
Vince’s voice teased me, the sleep deprivation sinking its claws into my head.
Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
