Page 70 of A Sinner's Virtue
“Good. I’ll see you in a few,” Marcel says before disconnecting the call.
“Okay then,” I say out loud. I stare at my phone for another second, then quickly pocket it.
“Don’t take it personally. We’ve been trained not to say too much over the line. It’s ingrained,” Santo tells me.
That actually explains a lot. At the start, Marcel was hesitant to share too much. Now, though, he tells me as much as he can. I’m sure there’s still a lot he doesn’t say and that’s okay. Because honestly, I don’t need to know everything he and his brothers do.
“Marcel is meeting us at my place,” I tell Santo.
“You okay?” His eyes seem to sear into me. It’s as if he can see right through me. It’s weird.
“I’m okay. Are you?” I ask him.
“I haven’t been okay for months. But I’m dealing with it,” he says.
“I haven’t been okay for years,” I whisper. “But I’m dealing with it too.” I look at Santo before gesturing between the two of us. “Are we becoming friends? Is this what this is?”
“Friends? Family? I don’t know.” He shrugs. “Do the memories ever fade?”
I shake my head. “They don’t. But they become easier to see.”
“She would have liked you. Shelli, I mean. I think you guys would have been friends,” he says.
“Maybe. I’m kinda hard to be friends with.”
“I don’t think you are. Besides, you won over Marcello’s icy heart. That in itself is an achievement.”
I smile. “I don’t think you win people over. I think that when you fall in love, it just happens and there’s nothing either person can do to avoid it. Like you just see someone. And before you know that it’s love, you feel it.”
“I don’t believe in love at first sight.”
“You didn’t love Shelli at first sight?”
“We were teenagers when we met. It was lust for sure, but love? That developed over the years,” he says.
I have a feeling that, although there’s no doubt that Santo loved Shelli, she wasn’t his real true love. The kind that changes your entire life. I think that is still coming for him. Of course, I’m not stupid and keep these thoughts to myself.
Ivan stops at the front of my building, where Marcel is leaning up against the wall waiting for us. “Thanks,” I say, moving to open the door.
“Wait… I’ll get it,” Ivan says, cutting the ignition before jumping out on the driver’s side.
Santo is next to me. He gets out on the other side of the car when Ivan opens my door. Just as I’m about to climb out, Ivan slams the door shut again and then blood splatters all across the window. His blood. His lifeless eyes meet mine right before his body falls.
I hear screaming. My own screaming. And then I remember Marcel is out there.
No, no, no. This is not happening.
I slide across the seat and push out Santo’s door. I don’t think of anything but getting to Marcel as I round the car. That’s when I stop. He’s on the ground too. Santo is holding a hand against his brother’s chest. There’s so much blood. I look to my right and see Ivan, and then my feet finally decide to move again.
I need Marcel. I need to get to Marcel. This isn’t happening.
I take one step towards him when something hits the back of my head. Pain radiates through my skull, my vision blurs, and I feel arms wrap around my body. And then everything just fades out.
Chapter Thirty-One
Asharp pain radiates through my abdomen as consciousness starts to seep in. Blinking my eyes open, I’m blinded by bright lights, the smell of antiseptic, and a god-awful sound of machines beeping.
“Marcello, thank fuck,” Vin says. I turn my head to look at him as I try and fail to sit up.
