Page 96 of His Passerotta

My eyes scan the perimeter. There’s very little coverage. I’ll be lucky to make it, but maybe…

“I am not letting my little brother die, do you fucking hear me?” Settimo’s loud, authoritative voice brings me back to him. “You go in there, I’ll follow, and we’ll both die. Is that what you want?”

No.

“I have to get Bailey.” Desperation drips from my words. “You and Lorenzo stay here. I’ll be back.”

Settimo shakes his head. “No, fuck that. We wait until the trash is taken out, then we?—”

“I don’t have time!” I yell over the gunfire. She doesn’t have time.

My legs itch to run at my mind’s command, but Settimo’s words won’t let me budge. I believe him when he says he’d follow me. And I believe him when he says we’d die in the process.

I can’t let him die for me.

Although he doesn’t say the words out loud, I can hear them in my head. Choose, her or me?

Familial love or romantic love? Which one’s stronger? Which means more?

Choose, Anthony.

Choose.

My whole body feels like it’s shredding, every cell pulling in a different direction, threatening to rip me apart. My mind spins so fast, all I can hear is a million voices at once, all saying different things, all competing over the other.

And then the voices stop.

My answer becomes clear.

I choose both.

I raise my gun and crash it against Settimo’s head, sending him toppling to the ground. Lorenzo flinches toward him but stops when I point the gun at his leg.

“You follow me, and I swear to God, you’ll be walking with a limp for the rest of your life.”

Lorenzo eyes me for a moment, then takes an AK from a nearby soldier. He nods to the roof where two gangbangers lay in a tight enough spot that they’re hard to hit.

“I’ll cover you the best I can,” he says. “Go get your girl.”

I want to tell him thank you. That I love him. That I love Settimo. That family is everything to me.

But I don’t have the time.

I turn and take off, trusting that Lorenzo knows everything I haven’t said aloud.

I’m barely out of range from the gunfire as I sprint with everything in me toward the back of the house, and I swear I can hear bullets whizzing past my ears. One of the men on the roof aims a gun at me but falls when he’s hit. I’ll have to thank Lorenzo for that later.

I focus my mind on Bailey and pray she’s still alive.

She is. I have to believe she is.

A loud boom sounds in the yard, and I whip my head that way to see what looks like a fucking grenade explosion. My running falters, but I immediately pick it back up, focusing again on Bailey.

Everything else fades away.

25

BAILEY

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