Page 96 of Vendetta
‘It’s her mother,’ said Nic, turning to spit on the ground. ‘He’s using her goddamn mother.’
‘There are more of them outside,’ said Felice. He narrowed his eyes and started scanning my mother as if making sure she wasn’t an illusion. ‘I don’t know what this is, but if Jack Gracewell thinks we won’t shoot you, then he’s sorely mistaken.’
‘W-where is my daughter?’ My mother wasn’t focusing. Herattention had fallen away from the guns and she was whipping her head around, searching the warehouse frantically. For me. ‘Where is she?’ she asked, dread drowning out the fear in her breathless voice. ‘He said she was here. What have you done with her?’
‘Where is Jack Gracewell at this moment?’ Felice started towards her, levelling his gun at her forehead. ‘Tell me what he’s planning or I’ll kill you right now.’
‘Stop!’ shouted Nic. He flung his arm out across his uncle’s chest and Felice skidded to an unexpected halt.
‘Nicolò,’ he hissed. ‘You need to learn to pick your battles.’
‘She’s not part of this,’ he snapped.
‘Of course she’s part of this, she’s standing right here!’
‘We said no more innocents. You’re as bad as Valentino!’
‘Nonsense,’ said Felice indignantly. ‘Of course we should kill her.’
Luca stepped between Nic and Felice. ‘Do you really wish to derail this family further, Felice?’ he asked, his voice carefully controlled. ‘This is not what my father would have wanted, and we all know it.’
‘Then perhaps you shouldn’t have shunned his last request. You would certainly be in a better position to complain now.’
Luca’s expression grew faintly hostile, but his voice remained unchanged. ‘I’m sure I don’t need to remind you, Felice, that regardless of my decision, I still outrank you.’
Felice grimaced and lowered his gun slowly. The feeling returned to my jelly legs.
‘S-Sophie?’ My mother inched forwards, craning her neck to see behind the crates ahead of her. But she wouldn’t find me there, and the more she tried, the harder it was to watch herfail. Silent tears were streaming down her cheeks, catching in the half-light. ‘Sophie?’
‘Where is Jack Gracewell?’ Felice repeated. He was so caught up in studying her that he didn’t hear the dim thud coming from the back of the warehouse. None of them did.
I felt myself jump and the pain in my ribcage soared, as if an invisible hand had decided to braid my insides. I fell back on to my haunches and followed the noise. Four figures were sneaking through the hidden back door. They started navigating their way through the crates, crouching low to the ground. A shock of crimson hair alerted me to Eric Cain’s position. Of course Jack’s best friend was involved in this, just like everybody else seemed to be. Beside him, I recognized the gait of my uncle as he pulled himself across the ground, stalking towards the Falcones.
I started to panic, caught between shouting out to draw attention to Jack so that Nic and Luca could be forewarned and keeping quiet so Jack could save my mother from Felice’s increasingly steady aim. Maybe he did deserve this, but she didn’t. I patted my hand against Luca’s knife in my pocket and the angriest part of me imagined using it on Jack. What good was showing up to rescue me if he was prepared to use my own mother, knowing she could get hurt too?
‘Enough of this!’ It was Gino; Gino the Unstable. He lunged forwards, barrelling past Felice and Nic, his gun held high.
My mother yelped, stumbling backwards, and almost tripping over herself.
‘Gino!’ Nic’s scream drowned out my own, and no one seemed to notice the threads of our voices intertwining. Luca lunged at the same time and in a heartbeat he was standing infront of my mother, his palms raised towards his brother.
‘Gino, no,’ he echoed, but calmer.
‘She’s a distraction,’ Gino cried, madly waving his gun in the air. ‘And she’s Michael Gracewell’s wife! At least this way we can get the blood debt that you and Calvino screwed up.’
‘Watch what you say, Gino,’ Luca said without budging.
The shadows at the back were lurking ever closer. I caught a glint of Jack’s buzz cut several crates across from me. I decided to go for him. If he knew I was OK, maybe he could sneak away, and then Luca could convince them to let my mother go too.
I dragged myself across the cement, glancing over my shoulder as I crept as quickly as possible. My mother had buried her face in her hands and her sobs were echoing around the warehouse. I watched Luca turn and whisper something to her. She straightened up and began to wipe her face with shaking hands. She said something in return. He nodded and she released a watery smile, her face twitching with relief. She knew I was alive.
When I turned back, my uncle was no longer in my sights, and the lurking shadows were no longer shadows. They were men. And they were standing up, arms outstretched and guns in hand. I screamed at the top of my lungs, but it was too late.
In the movies it’s always so dramatic when someone gets shot. Time slows, the music ebbs and flows around the moment. When the bullet hits, the body buckles – each limb reacting in perfect unison – as it sails backwards through the air, and even though it’s supposed to be horrifying, there’s always something quietly artistic about it too.
It wasn’t like that with Luca. He just crumpled. One minute he was on his feet, standing in front of my mother, and the nexthe was lying on the ground in a pool of his own blood.
The pop was still echoing in my eardrums when she started screaming, and then the shouting followed, and all hell broke loose.
