Page 74 of Last Hand

Fallon’s fingers twitch against my side. I glance down. Her eyes are closed, her breathing even, so I can tell she is asleep.

“We need to get her checked,” I say, my voice low, just for Leone. He nods, a tiny movement. “Already arranged. Doctor Steven’s will be at the house once he arrives back in the city.” Of course he has. Leone doesn’t miss a beat, even when the world’s burning down around him.

We pull through the city, the streets slick and empty in the pre-dawn gloom. The usual city noise is muted. It feels like we’re the only people left alive. Or maybe the only ones who know what really goes on when the rest of the world is sleeping.

The gates to Leone’s mansion slide open. Home sweet fucking home. Rocco pulls up out the front, engine cutting out with a sigh. Leone’s out of the car before it fully stops, openingFallon’s door. He doesn’t try to pull her out, just stands there, waiting. I help her sit up. She sways, and for a second, I think she’s going to pass out. Her eyes finally flutter open, unfocused.

Leone extends a hand. “Come on, Fallon. Let’s get you inside.” She hesitates for a beat, then takes his hand. He pulls her gently to her feet, his arm going around her waist, supporting most of her weight. She leans into him like he’s the only solid thing in her world.

I get out, stretching my cramped legs. The air here is cleaner, colder. Or maybe it’s just the absence of smoke and blood. Leone walks her toward the house. I follow a few steps behind, watching them. They look… I don’t know. Like two halves of a broken thing, trying to see if they still fit.

I linger just outside the doors, lighting a cigarette I didn’t realize I was craving until this exact moment. The first drag is harsh, acrid, beautiful. The sky’s starting to lighten in the east, a bruised purple giving way to gray. Another goddamn day. I turn to the sound of footsteps. Rocco’s leaning against the car, arms crossed. “Long night,” he says.

“Understatement of the fucking year,” I reply, exhaling a plume of smoke. He pushes off the car when his phone beeps in his pocket. He pulls it out just as Santos’s car heads down toward the gates.

“Santos’s men delivered the guy to the basement. Said he’s secure; they’ve left the key to the tunnels in the garage,” Rocco tells me repocketing his phone. It must have been Santos who messaged him. Yet it makes me wonder about this Igor and about Fallon’s little request.

“Good.” I sigh knowing I will be the one who has to take his arms, though I do want to know why.

Rocco looks toward the front door. “She gonna be okay?”

I shrug. “Who the fuck knows? She’s tough. But this…” This is a whole new level of fucked up. Finding out you’ve got hiddensisters, watching your estranged mother die? Yeah, that’ll leave a mark. The front door opens again. Leone steps out. His suit’s rumpled, his hair a mess. He looks like he’s been through a meat grinder. Which, metaphorically, he has. He walks over, stops beside me. Doesn’t say anything for a minute, just stares out at the grounds.

“Nathan called. Santos’s men dropped him and the girls off. Emma’s there. They’re… adjusting.” He runs a hand through his hair.

“Kids are resilient,” Rocco chimes in.

“Sometimes,” I say. Sometimes they just break in ways you can’t see until it’s too late. Leone turns to me, his eyes dark, intense.

“Did she say anything to you in the car?”

I shake my head. “She asked for his arms.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“What do you think that means?” I take another drag of my cigarette.

“Means she’s pissed. Means she wants a piece of him. Literally.” It wasn’t exactly rocket science. Leone nods slowly. “She can have them. After I’m done with him.” There’s a coldness in his voice that makes even me pause.

Igor was fucked before. Now? Now he was a dead man walking, even if Fallon only wanted his limbs.

“You going down there now?” I ask.

“Later.” He glances back at the house. “She needs to rest. I need to…”

“Dante?” I ask and he nods slowly.

“Leave it, spend time with Fallon. Dante isn’t going anywhere,” Rocco adds. Leone seems to think for a second and sighs heavily holding his hand out. I know what he wants, he wants a cigarette so I hand him my packet and lighter, watching as he lights one.

“Fallon?” I ask him.

“Went to the room, I heard the shower turn on… She locked the door, I figured I’d give her a few minutes before I kick it down.”

“You think it’s wise leaving her alone right now?” I ask worriedly.

“If she wants space I will give her a moment. I don’t like it any more than you do,” he answers.

“Dr. Stevens?”

---