Page 48 of The Prizes We Win
Dad shrugs. “They’re very popular in Montana. Russians love the cold.”
“Fuck,” Luca sighs from behind me.
“This piece of shit has been in debt with them since he’s been in prison,” I add. My steady hand still holding the gun.
“Don’t ask me how, but the Novikovs found out who I was and that I owed the branch in Montana money. Imagine my surprise when I found out they were after you and your little group of boyfriends here.” I can feel the anger starting to swallow me whole. “So, they agreed to clear my debt if I helped them out with their little problem. Bing, bang, boom, the group in Billings managed to get me out of prison and had me sent to New York.”
“How’d this work out for you?” Dante’s deep voice grumbles.
Another fucking shrug. “Doesn’t much matter to me. Anything was better than that hell hole I was locked up in. The Russians have connections. And let’s just say… their connections in prison wereveryeager to get their hands on me. Regularly.” He looks back at me and smiles. “So ya see, Joey. This is really all your fault. If you’d have just given me the money like you were supposed to I wouldn’t have owed them anything.”
“My-my fault?” I can’t believe this. “I’m your daughter. How is any of this my fault?!”
“Because, if you weren’t so busy whoring yourself around you would have—”
My finger squeezes the trigger, and a fraction of a second later, there’s a hole in the center of his forehead. A chorus of gasps sounds behind me as I watch the man I once knew as my dad, the man who was supposed to protect me, my brother, and my mother from everyone and everything, fall to the ground.
And as he lies on the cement ground in front of me, a puddle of blood pooling around his head, I suddenly feel like I’m drowning again. Like I can’t breathe.
I’m gasping for breath when Dante’s large body wraps his arms around me, pinning my arms to my side. “Shhhhh. Shh, shh, shh. I’m right here. We’re right here. You’re okay.” Luca appears at my side. Gently, he uncurls my fingers from around the handle of the gun and sets it on the table next to us. Then, Sebastian appears to my left.
“We’ve got you, Love.”
Those four words are enough. My mouth opens, and I gasp for breath as I sob into Dante’s chest.
I vaguely hear Luca tell someone, “Move him. Now.” as I spill what feels like a lifetime of tears onto Dante’s shirt. And between each broken sob, I gasp for breath. And that is where I stand until the sobs turn into cries, and the cries turn into hiccups. I stand between the three of them as I start to breathe deeper and deeper.
Not a single one of them move until I take one final deep breath and pull my face from Dante’s chest. And when I finally do look up, my Dad is gone, and all that’s left is a pool of blood.
“Don’t look at that; look at us,” Sebastian instructs.
I do as he says. I look between each of them. And where I’m prepared to find stares of disappointment and anger, I see ones of concern and…pride.
“You, Vita Mia,” Luca whispers as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, “were so brave.”
“You’re—you’re not mad?”
“Oh, we’re furious,” Dante clarifies with a faint chuckle.
“But not at you, Love.” Sebastian smiles softly.
“I-I killed him. I killed my dad.” My voice is barely above a whisper.
Dante hooks his finger under my chin, forcing me to look up at him. “Yes, you did. You killed your dad,” he answers deadpan. “And that is something you are going to have to live with the rest of your life. You can let it eat away at you, or you can accept thefact that what you just did made this world a better place. But whatever you choose, it starts right now.”
When I look into his hazel eyes, I know those words ring as true for him as they do me. He knows better than most what it means to take a life. The heavy toll it has on a person’s soul. But he also knows that it’s not so black and white. He knows that some people don’t deserve to walk this earth.
They all do. None of us would be here right now if that wasn’t a reality we had to face.
Closing my eyes for a moment, I let myself feel the severity of what I just did. I let myself drown in it. But only for a moment. Because when I open them, I know it’s time to fight. “Let’s go find our boy.”
31
Sebastian
“Who owns Pavlova Pastries?” Dante asks as Finn and I sit back down in front of the computers.
My head is killing me from staring at these screens all night. The moment I turn them back on I can feel the pounding between my ears start all over again. But I can’t stop.
