Page 102 of Where Dark Hearts Devour
“That’s okay. We understand.” She glances nervously at Savero, who has his arms folded, watching us both. She pans back to me. “I’m sorry, I’m forgetting my manners. Would you like a drink?”
“Sure. Thanks,” I say. I’m not thirsty, but I could use something to occupy my fingers, otherwise I’m just going to stand here cracking my knuckles.
Savero hands me a glass of water and pours out two more for him and Trilby.
“No Dolly Parton mug?” I ask, wiping the smirk off my face with a thumb.
Instead of sharing in the joke, Trilby looks alarmed. Her gaze flits between me and my brother.
“So, what are your plans after the wedding?” I don’t ask because I want to know—I’d rather poke out my eyeballs than torture myself with images that could haunt me for the rest of my life—but because it’s what a brother would do.
Trilby looks to Savero for help, and I wonder if they’ve even discussed life beyond the wedding.
“I have to go to Mexico,” Savero says with a shrug. “We have a meeting with some associates from the cartel.”
Trilby looks down at her hands.
“Depending on when I get back, we might go to Rome for a couple days.”
“Rome.” I nod slowly.
Trilby looks up at us both through sweeping lashes.
“Nice.”
“Yeah. It’s about time I dropped in on some of the family.”
We don’t have any immediate family in Rome, so I assume he means the “family” we work with when it’s mutually convenient to. And it’s usually Cosa Nostra-flavored.
“That’ll be fun.”
Savero’s gaze drops to my glass, then he tips his back and places it on the counter, empty. “I hear you paid Augusto a visit.” He wipes a hand across his mouth.
“Yeah. Thought it strange he hadn’t been around since Father died.”
“He’s not my biggest fan.” Savero’s lip curls. “That’s why he hasn’t been around.”
I’m now certain I’m being tested. I get a fleeting sense of discomfort at the thought he might know what Father’s plan was. But no, it isn’t possible. Father took his plan to his grave, and Augie was so loyal to Father he would die too to keep that quiet.
“It’s not like you need him. You have Nicolò, Beppe, Benny ... And Donato is a good capo too. Some good guys have stuck around.”
The corner of his mouth ticks up slightly. “Oh, I’m not worried.”
I raise the glass to my lips, then a thought occurs to me. “You know, I’ve been thinking a lot about that time you saved me from drowning.”
A flicker of something passes over his expression.
“Something Tony Castellano said to me, actually.”
Trilby’s gaze flitters over me.
“You’d have needed one hell of a sharp knife to cut the boat rope my leg was tangled up in. What did you use?”
He blinks in slow motion before answering smoothly. “I used the penknife Nonni kept in the hold. We’d been carving pictures into the wooden boards on the deck.”
I don’t remember carving pictures, but it sounds like something we’d do. Besides, it was a huge trauma to experience as a kid; I was never going to remember every detail.
“That was some quick thinking,fratello.”
