Page 79 of Crimson Vows

“Listen, Nico,” he says, “you can’t think about Dante right now, okay? We don’t know what they know, but we have to assume they’re probably coming for all of us. Don’t come back here, do you understand?”

“What?” I ask, my mind in a state of chaos.

“We need to get as far away from the city as possible. I’m going to get Gia, and we’ll meet you. I want you to head straight to the truck stop outside Edison. You know which one I’m talking about?” Marco’s voice is calm now. The initial panic has evaporated into a plan of action.

“I can’t just leave him there like that,” I protest, still fixated on the image of Dante’s body. “I have to make whoever did that to him pay.”

“Nico!” Marco shouts. I suddenly hear Gia’s muffled voice in the background, asking what’s wrong. “He’s gone, do you hear me? We can’t do anything about that now, but we can get Gia out of here. I need your help. You want to help me protect her, don’t you?”

“Who’s gone?” Gia’s voice sounds again from the background.

“Nico, I can count on you, right?” Marco asks. “I need you, man. We both do.”

I take a deep breath. “Yes,” I reply, my voice trembling. “I’ll be there.”

Dante’s blood is veining out across the car’s side window, my friend’s life seeping into the streets of the city. My heart aches as I tear my eyes away, gripping the phone tighter.

“Okay,” Marco says. “We’ll head straight there. Be careful.”

“You too,” I agree before hanging up.

The city sprawls beneath me, indifferent to the death it cradles in its concrete arms. As much as I try to fight the images, I see his eyes, once bright with mischief, now staring into nothingness.

I shake my head, trying to dislodge the image. I force myself to focus on Gia’s face. Each mile I move closer to Edison, I know I am moving toward Gia, Marco, and what remains of our fractured family.

Chapter Thirty-Three

GIA

The gravel crunches underfoot as I lean against the cool metal of Marco’s car. The distant hum of an 18-wheeler idling somewhere in the truck stop’s void creates a calming effect.

“He’s going to be okay,” Marco says, attempting to reassure me. I offer him a smile in return, not bothering to tell him I have no doubt that Nico will arrive here unharmed. That is not what my thoughts are consumed with right now. The things going through my head at this moment are more than I think Marco probably can handle at this point.

From the moment Marco told me that Dante was murdered, it’s all I have been able to think about. War. Before, I only wanted what I considered my fair piece—what was owed to me as a captain’s daughter. But everything has changed, and it’s all on Vincent and Amelia. They were the ones who had to push me to my breaking point, and now I want retribution. Now, because of what they have taken, I want everything they have. I’m still figuring out how, but I know I’ll puzzle this out. I’m Anthony Casaletto’s daughter, after all. When I have a clearer picture, I will share my plan with Marco and Nico, but I will carry this alone for now.

Headlights cut through the darkness, and Nico’s car rolls into view. “I told you,” Marco says, pushing off his car and waving at him. Nico parks and silences the car before the driver’s door creaks open, and he steps out, his broad shoulders casting long shadows on the ground. His eyes are red and bloodshot.

Marco pauses, looking at his broken friend. “I’m glad you made it.”

I move past Marco and close the distance between Nico and myself. My arms wrap around him, tight, my head buried against his chest. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper, the words muffled by his leather jacket.

He’s a statue for a moment, then his arms band around me, solid and warm. “I can’t believe they fucking killed him.”

“It’s all so crazy,” I agree, not letting go of him.

Nico pulls back just enough to look down at me. “He wanted us all to be safe, ya know?”

I nod as I separate myself from him, stepping back. “I know.”

“I was going to fucking kill them for this; I really was,” Nico says, a desperation in his voice. “But then I knew Marco was right. I need to be here to protect you. Dante would have wanted it that way.”

I take another step back, swallowing hard, annoyance gnawing at my gut. I turn to both men, my gaze unwavering. “Okay, that’s enough. You both have to stop this shit,” I command.

They look at each other in confusion before looking back at me.

“I’m not some fucking damsel you need to rescue. Jesus, have you both forgotten I was the one who saved your asses that night on the boat?” I snap.

The air carries the scent of diesel and dust as Nico’s gaze lingers on me. There’s a ghost of a smile on his lips. “Damn, Gia,” he says, the gruffness in his voice softened by admiration. “You’re right. I’m sorry. You’re definitely the strongest fucking woman I’ve ever met.”

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