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“Did you kill him?” I ask, feeling emboldened by whatever the hell Kat just put in that new drip.
“Dante did,” he replies without missing a beat. “Although I wish I had.”
“Remind me to thank him.”
Lorenzo eyes Kat.
“I gave her some codeine,” she explains.
He rolls his eyes, then sobers and clears his throat. “You sacrificed yourself to save Mia and our baby.”
I frown. I also put her in harm’s way, but I’m not going to remind him of that. “It was the least I could do.”
“But you made a decision. You had two guns. You could have shot Ace and Romeo, or me, but you put them down and saved Mia. Why?”
I shrug. “I don’t know.”
His nostrils flare. “Yes you do. Why?”
A tear rolls down my cheek. “Because she was innocent. Your baby is innocent. Phoenix would have killed them both, and then… well she would’ve had innocent blood on her hands too, and I couldn’t—” The words are swallowed by a sob, and Lorenzo waits while I find my composure. “And I couldn’t condemn her to hell like that. Now at least she has a chance at peace.”
He leans forward, his eyes locked on my face. “You believe in heaven?”
“No. But she did.”
“Mia said I should let you go.”
A spark of hope flares in my chest, but I know better than to give into it. “She did?”
“She says you were only doing what you thought was right. You believed us to be monsters and acted on that assumption.”
“Maybe I was wrong,” I say, my voice quiet.
“But I am a monster. And if it wasn’t for my wife, I would toss you in my basement and make good on the promise I once made you. I don’t give a fuck if you are my half sister.”
My insides twist in a knot, but the drugs Kat gave me make me feel invincible. “I don’t believe you.”
“You really don’t want to test me on it,” he growls.
“No, I mean you’re not a monster. Father Mike told me you weren’t involved in your father’s trafficking business. He also said you had something to do with the men who rescued us. And I have no reason not to believe him,” I admit. “He’s always been honest with me, brutally so. My memory of that time is so hazy.” I shake my head. The therapist they forced me to see when I was a teenager told me it was a trauma response. All I recall are warm hands lifting me from the truck and a deep soothing voice. Over the years, I must have inserted Father Mike into that memory, probably because he was the only man I could ever remember making me feel safe.
Lorenzo clears his throat. “Well, that’s not surprising. I’m sure it was a difficult day.”
“You say that like you know what happened. Tell me,” I plead.
He shakes his head. “There’s no sense in reliving that now, Keres. It’s done.”
I scowl at him. “But I want to know.”
He cocks his head to the side, eyeing me curiously. “Did you ever think that you can’t remember for a reason? That maybe it’s your mind’s way of protecting you from what happened?”
I shake my head. “I deserve to know the truth, Lorenzo. And if you know, don’t you think you owe me—”
His menacing growl cuts me off midsentence. “I owe you nothing, little girl.” The vein in his neck pulses, and he pushes himself to his feet. “I’ve given you more hospitality than you deserve. You can stay here until you’re well enough to leave and then I want you gone.”
He walks toward the door. I press my lips together, knowing that I should remain quiet. He’s right that he doesn’t owe me a thing. I was so very wrong about him and his brother, but that doesn’t mean my other purpose in life is any less important now. So for Phoenix, and for all the other victims, I find my voice. “But I still haven’t found him. I know Ace has his name.”
Without acknowledging me, he walks out the door and doesn’t look back.
