Page 78 of His Passerotta

I can’t look him in the eye and tell him I regret seeing Anthony, that I even regret breaking into La Divina when I did because it just isn’t true. I would never put Corey in danger, but to sacrifice the life of the man I care about to let my brother kill him? No. I can’t.

At least it’s all over now.

I hold my face in my hands and try not to think about the way Anthony looked at me. Try not to see the justified anger blazing in his eyes. At least Corey can’t kill him now. That should be enough to soak up the resentment, but it isn’t.

I allow myself to cry for several minutes before I pick myself up and go for the tequila on the kitchen counter.

If I can’t soak up my resentment, maybe I can drown it.

19

ANTHONY

My fingers twitch as I stare at Joshua Murphy’s mugshot on my computer monitor. There’s a sinking feeling in my gut I haven’t been able to get rid of since last night when Bailey’s brother showed up at my restaurant.

If it had just been him, maybe I wouldn’t be feeling this way. Maybe I’d be able to believe Bailey, maybe even let it go. But he wasn’t alone.

My eyes find the cobra tattoo on Murphey’s neck, the same tattoo my manager told me about. This guy, this thug was caught in La Divina one day hanging around the office. He claimed to be searching for the restroom, and my manager forced him to wait in the lobby while he checked the office.

Nothing was missing. The safe didn’t look tampered with. The paperwork on the desk looked untouched. As far as he could tell, the lock hadn’t been picked.

So, he let Joshua go. He only told me later what had happened when he was poking fun at the poorly done cobra tattoo on the guy’s neck. The same one I saw last night.

It begs the question… What the fuck was he doing in my restaurant?

My eyes close while I attempt to let it go, to not allow my mind to go in the direction it's headed. But I fail. I can’t get Bailey’s voice out of my head, droning on about the bomb in the alley, about me not being safe.

She was trying to warn me. And the bomb she talked about… I don’t think it was planted by the Irish. I think someone wanted it to look like it was planted by the Irish. And I think that someone is connected to Bailey.

My stomach twists tighter as I run my hand through my hair.

What am I going to do if she’s connected? What if she really was at La Divina to spy on me that night?

What if she’s been behind all of this?

What if she played me?

What if she never even cared?

The pain in my stomach moves to my chest. It’s pathetic, I know. A groan man, a capo no less, sick to his stomach about a woman playing him. If I was as ruthless as I should be, I would slit her throat and move on before I could begin to process any of this.

But I know myself. I know I can’t kill her, no matter what she’s done. If she was trying to play me, it worked. I’ve fallen further for her than I’m able to climb.

I think I might even be falling in love with her. I didn’t realize it until now, but it’s the only thing I can think of to explain why I haven’t called Lorenzo to tell him my suspicions. He’d be able to crack this mystery faster than anyone could.

And yet, I don’t want him to crack it. I don’t want to crack it, myself. There’s a part of me that would rather be in a war against the wrong enemy than put myself on the opposing side of Bailey.

Regardless of what I want, the fog is gradually clearing, and I’m seeing a hell of a lot better than I did a day ago.

The door to my office opens, and I slowly click out of Joshua Murphey’s file as Settimo walks in.

“Hey,” I say to him when he doesn’t start in on his usual rant.

“Hey, little brother.” He runs his hand across his jaw while he ambles to the chair in front of my desk. Gripping the top of it, he gives me an awkward smile. “Got a minute?”

I gesture to the chair, and he sits, clearing his throat and crossing one leg over the other. “So… I’ve kind of been a dick lately, huh?”

Lately?

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