Page 128 of Bitter Poetry
Instead, he turns and looks directly at me. Next thing, he’s walking over to me, not stopping until he’s in my space. I don’t look away. He puts his hand on my shoulder. “You’ve always been a good soldier, Christian. One of my best.”
I’m waiting for the ‘but’ as he holds my gaze. Am I going to be on my knees next to Cosmo?
I don’t fucking blink. Bitterness and a side-serve of crazy rise inside me. If I die today, I need to know that Cosmo died first.
“Do you have any weapons on you?”
I shake my head slowly. Jero took my weapons off me before I stepped inside here. He probably didn’t trust me with weapons in a closed space with Cosmo… He wasn’t wrong.
“Your knife, Jero.” Ettore holds out his hand.
Jesus fucking Christ.What the fuck does he need Jero’s knife for? The ants wake up again and start swarming. Jero hesitates a fraction of a second before he takes the knife from the sheath at his waist and hands it over.
Ettore’s other hand is still on my fucking shoulder. He turns the knife over, letting the blade catch the light. It’s six inches long, more than enough to do the job. My eyes are glued to it, and my muscles are coiled with tension.
He flips it over in his hand and presents the handle to me.
I blink a few times, looking from him to the handle and back again.
“Go ahead. Take it,” he says.
Is this a test?
He’s standing way too close to me with a lethal weapon in his hand, and now he’s giving it to me. Cosmo is still on his knees, grunting. He’s close, too. I might even be able to end both motherfuckers before anyone takes me down.
Dante is making good headway into his plans. He said they were close, really close.
Is he close enough?
I take the knife, feeling the weight in my palm.
“He’s yours.” He pats my shoulder and steps back. “Do as you will. My only requirement is that he’s no longer breathing by daybreak.”
Cosmo’s grunting ramps up behind his gag.
“Nobody touches my wife, ever.” Gallo steps over to Cosmo again. “Be grateful you’re family. For anyone else, I would make this last for weeks.” He motions to the nearest soldier. “Bring me a chair and a drink. I’m inclined to watch. Christian, the floor is yours.”
He doesn’t need to ask me twice.
CHAPTER 38
DANTE
I’m married.
To a woman I despise, while the woman I want is married to someone else.
My head hurts but there is a deeper pain in the center of my chest.
My brother has been with her. Fucked her. She doesn’t regret it.
I stay up late talking to Leon in my apartment. He left not long ago to check on the club. I thought about going with him, but it’s supposed to be my wedding night, and so, for appearance’s sake, I don’t.
Which leaves me alone with my thoughts.
Standing in the lounge, I stare out at the skyline of the marina, and in the distance, the city of Chicago. From here, it’s little more than a jagged collection of towering structures, framed by the glistening expanse of Lake Michigan.
I’m restless. It’s hard to keep my thoughts from spiraling. The memory of Carmela—and my brother—are always close tothe surface. Layered over this are the broader plans and the conversation with Helena.
