Page 89 of Inferno
‘Well, I guess I’m not good at being a depraved criminal.’
‘You’re so dramatic.’ His movements were hurried as he shoved the money into the duffel bag in thick fistfuls.
‘Don’t forget the switchblades,’ I snapped. ‘What charming keepsakes. I’m sure all those Falcones are turning in their unmarked graves.’
‘That’s your father’s business,’ he huffed, climbing up on the counter to reach further inside. ‘The revenge was always more his thing. I just want to make money.’
Oh my God.
‘He’s been involved all along?’ My voice sounded impossibly far away – hollow, quivering. I swallowed the rest of myreaction. Not here. Not now. That brand of betrayal ran too deep. I would deal with it later.
Jack stopped his rustling to glance over his shoulder. He shrugged heavily, and something peculiar flashed in his eyes. ‘They took everything from us, Sophie. I thought you’d be able to understand that.’
I kept my voice as steady as I could. ‘Iunderstandthat you’re going to get killed pretty soon, and you know what? I think you deserve it.’
I patted my mother’s cheek. A welt was rising on the top of her head; Jack had hit her hard. I couldn’t drag her out, could I? Maybe I should just whack my head on something too and go with her, into dreamland, where I had a name and a family that still made sense.
I was trying really hard not to think about the ring in my pocket. Trying not to think about my father with his greying hair and melancholy eyes, rotting in prison. Where he deserved to be, as it turns out. And I wasreallytrying hard not to cry in front of my uncle.
He heaved another tower of money into the duffel bag and swept his hand inside the safe, checking that everything was out. ‘And what about your dad?’
‘Leave him out of this.’ I didn’t have anywhere near enough energy to open that box of broken promises. I wanted to twist my hands in his collar and scream at him. But I could never get to him. He was behind bars. Safe.
Another wheezing laugh escaped Jack. He slammed the heavy brass door shut and locked it. ‘Newsflash, Persephone, we’re all fucked up in this together. Your father and I are blood-red with guilt. You can’t pick and choose which one ofus to hate.’
My mother still wasn’t stirring, and I was starting to grow desperate. Slits of white pushed against her drooping eyelids. I brushed her hair back and felt for the pulse in her neck. It was weak but steady. ‘I need you to wake up,’ I whispered as tears pooled in the backs of my eyes. ‘I really need you to wake up now.’
Jack covered the safe behind the lino and shut the cabinet. When I looked up, he was right above me. The duffel bag was slung on his shoulder and his eyes were flashing with some new crazy purpose.
‘Just go,’ I said, pushing it out with all the strength I had in me. I was not going to think about the switchblades. I was not going to think about what that list meant. Or where the ruby came from. I was not going to think about how many lies my father had told me.
Jack had the audacity to laugh. ‘We both know I’m not leaving here without you, Soph.’
‘I can’t help you kill the Falcones. Donata won’t—’
Jack barked an incredulous laugh. ‘You don’t really believe Donata expected you tokillanyone, do you?’
I blanched. ‘She said she wanted me to help her.’
‘You don’t even know how to use a gun, let alone kill a man. For Christ’s sake, you’re seventeen years old.’
‘But then how was I supposed to—’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ Jack interrupted, amusement still colouring his tone. ‘You’ve already done it, Soph. You’ve already helped her.’
‘I—’ The words fell away from me. ‘She knew I’d go to them,’ I realized. ‘She wanted me to go to them.’
She played me.
But why? I didn’t get it – I couldn’t grasp the scope of her plan. I was too close to it, and it didn’t make sense. But I knew I had slipped up.
‘Donata is a very intelligent woman,’ Jack said admiringly. ‘You shouldn’t underestimate her.’
My mother was groaning, and I was beginning to realize that the two of us getting out of here together and without Jack was going to be impossible.
As if reading my thoughts, he said, ‘You can’t run, so don’t try.’
‘Why?’ I asked, hearing the childishness in my own voice. ‘Why do I matter so much?’
