Page 84 of His Passerotta

He grabs one of my hands and brings it from my stomach, holding it gently. I can’t decide whether or not I should pull away. “I would never let anyone hurt you. Ever. You’re not in any danger.”

“But my brother is.” I pull my hand back and scoot to the edge of the bed.

Hours.

Maybe less.

I need to hurry.

“If he leaves, he won’t be.”

“You weren’t planning on telling me that,” I say, snatching my panties off the floor and pulling them on. I yank on my pants next, a sense of urgency buzzing in my fingertips.

“I wanted to.” There’s real pain in his voice that I wish made a difference. “Please believe me, I wanted to.”

“Then why didn’t you?” I spin to him, my shirt waving at my side.

He’s quiet for a few seconds too many before I give up on the answer and pull on my shirt, then dart my eyes around for my shoes.

“I didn’t want him to warn his friends. If they were prepared when we came and they shot someone, that death would’ve been on me. As it stands, his death is on him.”

“No,” I cry, slipping my feet into my shoes instead of chucking them at his head like I want to. “It’s on you.”

“Bailey…”

“Stop it!” The back of my throat aches as tears threaten to come. I hold them back while gritting my teeth. “Anthony, I fucking get it, okay? I know. I know you have to do what you have to do, but don’t try to explain it to me. You can’t kill my brother and expect me to understand.”

“But you can kill mine?” He yanks his boxers off the foot of the bed and pulls them on. When he stands, he looks like he’s grown a foot. “You put them in danger by withholding information the same way I have your brother. And yet, I understand. And I will help Corey if he stands down.”

I shake my head. Part of me thinks I can talk Corey into it, but part of me is terrified I can’t. Not in this short amount of time. I’ll be lucky to find him. “If you love me?—”

“I do love you.” He steps up to me and takes my face in his hands. His eyes blaze with certainty. “I love you, Bailey.”

“Right, you just…” My eyes close as reality hits. My heart hardens to glass, and any minute it feels like it might shatter. “You just love them more.”

His phone goes off with impeccable timing, and this time, he lets the ringing run its course.

Familial love. It’s all that matters, in the end.

Never have I wished to be wrong about that… Until now.

He doesn’t respond because there is no good response. There would be no use denying it.

I feel for my keys in my pocket and stride to the door.

“I’m sorry,” his wounded voice calls to my back. I don’t stop to turn around.

If he says anything else, the sound of his phone ringing a third time drowns it out. I don’t have time to go back to find out what the call is about.

I just start running.

21

BAILEY

“Corey!” I pound my fist on the old screen door and don’t stop. “It’s Bailey, open the door!”

I jiggle the knob to find it as locked as it was three seconds ago—shocker—and debate on picking the thing.

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