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“Hold back and let me go in first,” Carter tells us. “I’ll test to make sure the footings are still stable, and there are no hidden surprises waiting for us.”
He holds Mia back a step, placing his body in front of hers.
Isabella is barely contained movement in human form. Every part of her continues to shake independently of the rest of her. What this must be like, I have no idea. Cannot even fathom how I’d react in her place. And it’s good I’m here to be the stone she leans on. To be the rational one alongside Carter, the ones who get the job done.
“Ricardo.” I turn at the sound of my name. “I’m not sure I can go inside. Give me a weapon and let me stay here, but if Daddy somehow got caught…”
There’s a hesitancy to her steps now, but we both know she’d force herself to look for the bodies. Bodies, on the off chance the attackers actually did make it inside after setting off their bomb. Or maybe the initial impact of the explosion took down whoever was in its path, an unlucky Edward Balestra.
My heart goes out to her.
“You’re strong enough to get through this,” I whisper, placing a kiss to the side of her head against her temple. “You wanted to be here. This is part of it.” The price we all have to pay, inevitably. The potential loss of one of ours.
“I need to be here,” she corrects me before zipping her lips.
Carter makes it to the rabble first and checks the area, clamoring over the stones on his way through the open door. The gaping hole in the side of the house, as if a giant plunged his fist through the wall. Broken glass decorates the ground and catches the light with each passing movement of clouds overhead.
It’s not as bad as it could have been, but I stop myself from saying anything. It won’t help either sister with their personal grief.
Carter makes sure the entryway is stable before reaching a hand back for his wife. Mia treads carefully toward him, and Isabella isn’t too far behind, dragging me along behind her, our hands still latched together.
Staying close, exactly as I’d asked.
The search doesn’t take as long as we thought, and the devastation could have been exponentially worse. Nothing I’ve seen to this point compares, but I’ve heard stories of other families in larger cities and what they’ve had to deal with. I’ve seen photographs of competitors losing entire warehouses of stock to ambushes like this.
We find nothing, but no bodies either.
The girls keep to themselves while Carter and I take a secondary sweep with the rest of our men.
Standing in the kitchen once we’re finished, farthest away from the front door, we might be able to delude ourselves into thinking everything is fine. Except the entire house has taken on an air of ruin and suffering. It’s not the shielded place it used to be, and I wonder if, even with heightened measures executed from this point onward, it might never be the same again.
The sisters are going through the motions, making a late lunch for everyone. One of them mans the stove, mechanically stirring a pot full of frozen red gravy taken from the depths of the freezer. The other mixes ingredients for meatballs with some fresh ground beef and pork, along with herbs, onions, and breadcrumbs.
Carter and I are the useless ones here. We’ve already done our part in calling together our men. But without Edward here, I know we’re both hesitant to put any plans into action. And Mia is refusing to talk until the meatballs are ready.
A quick call to their mom and sister has the duo staying out of town, extending their shopping trip, and even going so far as to book a hotel for the evening.
Lucia is twenty, so it’s not like she’s missing school or anything. One night away from managing her club won’t make much difference in the grand scheme of things, but if the two come back, they’re targets.
We’re all targets. But at least my people know when to go into hiding and when to strike out. Right now, against my mother’s better judgment but Carter’s insistence, they’re in hiding mode. And for that, I’ll be forever grateful.
The food is finally ready, and I’m staring at a full plate of spaghetti and meatballs without any will to eat.
“Without Papa here, I’m going to have to make the big decision we’re all dreading,” Mia says at last into the silence. “I’ll take the lead on this. The more stalling we do, the more time this man Drago has to make his next move, and I, for one, am not willing to allow him to jeopardize us further. We close ranks.”
Carter’s hand curls into a fist on the tabletop, his grip on his fork hard enough to bend the metal. “Those motherfuckers came into our house and did this.”
Isabella’s breath catches audibly enough to have every head in the room turn in her direction.
“You’re hiding something,” Mia says with a pointed finger. “It’s too late for you to bullshit me, Iz. What is it?”
“Well, we were going to come clean anyway. Weren’t we?” Isabella asks the question of me. “It’s past time.”
“Isabella…” Mia trails off.
“So, here is the situation. I’ll tell you everything.” She takes a deep breath, and before I have a chance to stop her, to tell her to wait while we figure out the best way to say it, she launches into the story.
26
