Page 78 of Crimson Vows

Leaning back in my seat, I close my eyes briefly before I feel my phone buzzing in my pocket, extinguishing the silence. When I see Marco’s name on the screen, worry knots my stomach, not knowing if a new and unexpected twist awaits me on the other end.

“Hey, you guys okay?” I answer the phone with the question.

“Yeah, we’re fine. I wanted to make sure everything was on track.” Marco’s voice is a low rumble through the speaker.

“Yeah.” I glance around at the dark street before me. “Dante’s upstairs grabbing his stuff right now. We’ll be on our way soon.”

“So... nothing out of the ordinary at your place?”

“No, nothing,” I answer, remembering the anxiety I had entering my apartment, certain someone would be waiting for me in the darkness. “Maybe everyone is more concerned about Vincent right now.”

There’s a pause, and I imagine Marco rubbing his stubbled jaw. “Yeah, maybe. I tried calling the hospital, but they wouldn’t tell me anything about his status.”

“I’m sorry, man; I know this has to be so fucked up for you.” My words are sincere because I understand how close Marco is to his cousin. At the end of the day, though, I don’t think the world will be any worse off if Vincent isn’t in it. “How’s Gia holding up?”

“I convinced her to try to get some rest, but she mostly seems to be tossing and turning.”

“Yeah, I’m not surprised. She was pretty restless all day,” I add, holding the phone to my ear with one hand and impatiently tapping my finger against the steering wheel with the other.

Marco lets out a sigh that crackles over the line. “What about Dante?”

“What do you mean?”

“How’s he coping with all this?” Marco’s question catches me off guard. A part of me thought he really was going to kill Dante when he found out that he shot Vincent. Gia may have been able to rein in his anger at the moment, but I do worry about it resurfacing.

I hesitate, then admit, “He’s pretty fucked up over it all. You know he offered to take the fall for us. He said he’d go to Amelia and confess everything. Tell her it was all his doing, and you had even warned him to stop.”

“Jesus.” I can hear the disbelief in Marco’s voice. “What did you say?”

“What do you think I said? I told him it was too late for any of that,” My gaze stays fixed on my rearview mirror and the entrance to Dante’s apartment building. “We all know there’s no coming back from what happened. He shot the fucking boss. Jesus. Nobody is going to give a shit what he says.”

A sudden shout jolts me upright. My head swivels, searching for the source. “What the—” My hand reaches for the door handle. Then a blur flashes from the corner of my eye, followed by a crash—an explosion outside the car so intense that I feel it in my seat. I turn my head toward the sound, and my heart lurches as I see something red splattered across the car’s side window.

“Nico, you okay?” Marco’s voice echoes in my ear, but I don’t reply.

Without thinking, I jump out of the car and rush around to the sidewalk, the phone still in my hand. The metallic tang of blood in the air is unmistakable. It sears my nostrils and tightens my chest. I freeze when the horror comes into frame.

Dante’s body sprawls across the asphalt, a rag doll twisted in ways that scream finality. His wavy hair, once full of life, fans out in a dark halo on the grimy pavement, blood pooling beneath him. Tears blur my vision as I call out his name, knowing there will be no response.

“Jesus, Dante...” My voice is a choked whisper. I drop to my knees, taking in the jagged angle of his neck, the open eyes staring at nothing. There’s no helping him. No fixing this.

Instinctively, my eyes dart up to the balcony six stories above me. A shadow looms there, a darker patch against the night. In the darkness, I can’t make out their face. The figure moves, a slow, taunting sway, then vanishes into the darkness of the apartment.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, looking back down at Dante’s lifeless body. The words are useless. A hollow ache spreads through my chest as I scramble to my feet and hurl myself back into the car. Whoever was on that balcony is coming for me.

Adrenaline pumps through my veins as I throw the car into gear and speed off into the night, leaving behind my friend’s lifeless body. Marco’s voice crackles from the phone, a desperate buzz that pierces the numbness.

“Talk to me, Nico! What’s going on?”

I put the phone back up to my ear as I drive toward the safe house, the image of Dante’s broken body etched into my brain. “They fucking killed him!” I shout into the phone. “Dante’s dead.”

“Dead? What do you mean?” Marco gasps in confusion. “How? Who?”

“I don’t know,” I cry, wiping away the tears blurring my vision. “I saw someone on the balcony, but I couldn’t make them out. When they went back inside, I got the hell out of there.”

“Shit. Shit!” Marco swears. “Okay, we have to move now!”

Traffic blurs past, each car a streak of color that fades into the night. “I can’t believe they fucking killed him,” I growl, the panic I felt initially giving way to rage. A thirst for revenge begins to hatch inside me.

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