“You ever need an excuse to go to war?”
“Not me,” he said. “But they would like to have one.”
“And they finally do.”
He shrugged. “Enemies will be enemies.”
We became quiet after that. I drank my coffee in silence, looking out the window, my thoughts going back and forth between the situation with the Craigs and why she left. We hit some traffic on the way to Staten Island, where the house I bought for Mari was.
I was dreading it. It had a butterfly painted on the wall. Something she’d done herself when she was a kid. All the memories I’d left behind seemed to be waiting there for me.
It hit me with a sucker punch to the chest—I didn’t even love the fucking house.
I’d only wanted it because I thought it would be special to her. Then I thought about how it would look with sunflowers everywhere. She seemed to love them. The sucker punch turned into a rip, leaving an empty space where my heart used to be.
The car pulled up to the curb and idled there.
“Your two younger brothers are beat up some,” he said. “But nothing too serious.”
I noticed two beat-up cars parked along the curb. Thoughts of her scattered, and my eyes connected with his. “They moved in with me.”
“Cutting expenses.”
“You’ve been watching them.”
“I know where this is heading.”
I got out of the car with my bag. Kelly rolled the window down again.
“There are no friends in this life, Harry Boy,” he said. “Someone close to me is going to betray me. Remember my words.”
“Who?” I said, narrowing my eyes.
“Tomorrow morning. My office. Back to work as usual.” The window went up and the driver pulled off.