Page 78 of Confession
“Alesso came after me,” I remind DiMaggio. “Again. Should I not defend myself when attacked? Who really broke the rules?”
I look to Cecilia, waiting for her to deliver her lines.
“Papa,” she says. “This cannot stand. Alesso must be avenged.” She clutches a kerchief to her throat, overacting a bit, but I suppose she’s dreamed of this performance for a long time.
I try to look surprised, but nothing could have been more predictable. There was never any chance of Cecilia keeping her word. What use would I be to her once I’d done her dirty work?
It pained me, god it did, to make a deal with Alesso, but that too is temporary, trusted only in this brief moment while our goals align. We both want Cecilia out of the picture. She’s far more dangerous than he is.
She sniffs. “You won’t walk out of here, Vitali Constantine. We have to put an end to this family, papa, once and for all. Agent Cohen!” she calls. “Arrest him!”
Martin Cohen emerges from the shadows at the smoky edge of the club, but he looks to Gavino, who’s looking at me. With hatred, yes, but with suspicion too. He hasn’t held his position all these years by being stupid. He might not know what’s going on, but he’s clearly sensed that something is.
“You have something to say, Vitali?” he asks.
I hold up my hand, palm open, giving the signal. “I could show you pictures of Cecilia at the scene of the crime to prove her complicity except … there was no crime.”
There was, actually. A number of Alesso’s men died to make everything believable, but all that came his way was a blank.
The door from the back room opens. As Quinn and Sasha walk in with Alesso, Cecilia scrambles up from her chair, shouting in outrage.
I’m out of my own chair in seconds. It won’t take long for this to family drama to become a family bloodbath, and my family needs to get out of here before that happens.
And here’s the thing. Wedo.
Roman and I reach Sasha and Quinn. The four of us get to the door. We open it and get through, moving into the back room before the shots even start firing. I hear them blasting in the main part of club, but they have nothing to do with us. We’re safe.
I should be so fucking glad. But the thing is, I’mnot—because I feel like it proves me right. They didn’t need to be here. They didn’t need to make this a thousand times more terrifying by making me worry about all of them.
They’re my family—yes, all of them—and it’s my responsibility to take care of them and keep them safe.
But they won’t fucking let me.
I’m so angry.
I’m so …
Fuck, I’m soashamed.
I can’t meet any of their eyes as we get through the exterior door, where we find Joe waiting with the van. We pile in the back, settle on the benches. We let Joe drive us away from the DiMaggios’ mess.
We should be smiling, should be celebrating, but all I want to say isfuck you. Fuck all of you.
I’m even angrier than I was yesterday. With no danger, there’s no relief. So I don’t know, I don’t have any idea, how to get myself through this.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Vitali
Emerging from the bathroom, I halt at the sight of Quinn sitting on my couch. He’s wearing the jeans and t-shirt he wore to the DiMaggios’ club, but his weapons are gone, his boots are off, and he’s holding a glass of whiskey in his lap.
I’m reminded of the night I waited in his room while he showered. The first night, when everything really started. But he’s not here to seduce me.
I think he’s here to talk to me, but I don’t know if I’m ready. I’m calmer now and I’m aware that the problem is me, but that’s about as far as I’ve gotten.
“I’m still sorting my shit out,” I tell him, sliding my hands into the pockets of my warmups.
“I know,” he says. “I just thought … maybe we could work on it, a little bit, together.”
