Crimson Vows: A Dark Mafia Romance

Chapter 32

The car shudders beneath my hands as the streetlights throw an orange glow through the windows, casting shadows across Dante’s face. He’s quiet beside me, but I can see thoughts brewing behind those ocean-blue eyes. Dante is usually in the driver’s seat, and this switch in roles seems unnatural, but he seems in no shape to drive.

“Hey, man,” I say, my voice rough in the car’s quiet. “You still with me?”

As we approach a red light, Dante finally speaks. “I keep thinking about Vincent, just lying there on the sidewalk, bleeding. I didn’t trust him as a leader, but... I never wanted things to end like this.”

I meet his gaze briefly before focusing back on the road. “I know.”

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” he asks, and I know he deserves my honesty.

“Yeah, things are pretty fucked at this point,” I answer firmly. “But I know you, Dante. I know everything you did was because you were trying to help.”

“Yeah, well, I fucked that up like everything else I do in my life,” he says as he lets out a bitter chuckle.

“Look, you said it yourself. Vincent was determined we were all working against him. It sounds to me like he didn’t leave you much choice,” I reply, hoping to lessen his crushing guilt. “I mean, shit, if you hadn’t gone there to confront him, who knows, maybe he already would have sent someone for the four of us. We could all be alive right now because of you.”

He shakes his head, a rueful twist to his lips. “How can you do that?”

“Do what?”

“You keep making excuses for me, over and over. It was my big mouth that screwed us all over in the first place. You should hate me.”

“Hey, dumbass, everyone screws up, alright? I’ll admit this is a pretty epic fuckup, but I know you,” I tell him, my tone sincere. “I mean, yeah, in the beginning, maybe it was more about the physical between us, but being around you, I see how much you care about the people you love. I know your heart is in the right place.”

Dante tries to lighten the mood with a weak joke. “Whoa, are you trying to say I love you now?”

I pull up outside Dante’s place and cut the engine. “I’m serious,” I say, turning to look him in the eyes. “You’re a good man, even if you have trouble seeing it sometimes. Now hurry up and go get your shit so we can get back to Marco and Gia.”

Dante nods, his hand on the door, but then I notice he hesitates. “What if I go to Amelia?”

I shake my head, the idea coming out of his mouth too ridiculous to comprehend. “What? Are you crazy?” I scoff. “Look what happened when you went to Vincent.”

“Wait, no. Hear me out. I could go and tell her it was all me.” There’s desperation in his voice.

I frown. “Stop, okay? It’s over.”

“No, I could explain I was the one who pushed for Marco to take over and he told me never to repeat the idea.” His words tumble out, reckless and wild. “I’ll tell Amelia the rest of you knew nothing about me going to Vincent and things just kind of spun out of control, and I panicked and shot him.”

I grab his arm, forcing him to meet my eyes. “Do you hear yourself? You know as much as the rest of us that won’t work. It’s too late to try to fix this. She will kill you and still send someone after the rest of us.”

Dante’s head drops in response to my words, and I can see the disappointment on his face. The sacrifice he was willing to make without hesitation only proves my point about the kind of man he is.

Nodding, Dante seems to agree.

“Hurry up and get your stuff.” I watch him as he silently exits the car and walks into his apartment building.

Leaning back in my seat, I close my eyes briefly before I feel my phone buzzing in my pocket, extinguishing the silence. When I see Marco’s name on the screen, worry knots my stomach, not knowing if a new and unexpected twist awaits me on the other end.

“Hey, you guys okay?” I answer the phone with the question.

“Yeah, we’re fine. I wanted to make sure everything was on track.” Marco’s voice is a low rumble through the speaker.

“Yeah.” I glance around at the dark street before me. “Dante’s upstairs grabbing his stuff right now. We’ll be on our way soon.”

“So... nothing out of the ordinary at your place?”

“No, nothing,” I answer, remembering the anxiety I had entering my apartment, certain someone would be waiting for me in the darkness. “Maybe everyone is more concerned about Vincent right now.”

There’s a pause, and I imagine Marco rubbing his stubbled jaw. “Yeah, maybe. I tried calling the hospital, but they wouldn’t tell me anything about his status.”

“I’m sorry, man; I know this has to be so fucked up for you.” My words are sincere because I understand how close Marco is to his cousin. At the end of the day, though, I don’t think the world will be any worse off if Vincent isn’t in it. “How’s Gia holding up?”

“I convinced her to try to get some rest, but she mostly seems to be tossing and turning.”

“Yeah, I’m not surprised. She was pretty restless all day,” I add, holding the phone to my ear with one hand and impatiently tapping my finger against the steering wheel with the other.

Marco lets out a sigh that crackles over the line. “What about Dante?”

“What do you mean?”

“How’s he coping with all this?” Marco’s question catches me off guard. A part of me thought he really was going to kill Dante when he found out that he shot Vincent. Gia may have been able to rein in his anger at the moment, but I do worry about it resurfacing.

I hesitate, then admit, “He’s pretty fucked up over it all. You know he offered to take the fall for us. He said he’d go to Amelia and confess everything. Tell her it was all his doing, and you had even warned him to stop.”

“Jesus.” I can hear the disbelief in Marco’s voice. “What did you say?”

“What do you think I said? I told him it was too late for any of that,” My gaze stays fixed on my rearview mirror and the entrance to Dante’s apartment building. “We all know there’s no coming back from what happened. He shot the fucking boss. Jesus. Nobody is going to give a shit what he says.”

A sudden shout jolts me upright. My head swivels, searching for the source. “What the—” My hand reaches for the door handle. Then a blur flashes from the corner of my eye, followed by a crash—an explosion outside the car so intense that I feel it in my seat. I turn my head toward the sound, and my heart lurches as I see something red splattered across the car’s side window.

“Nico, you okay?” Marco’s voice echoes in my ear, but I don’t reply.

Without thinking, I jump out of the car and rush around to the sidewalk, the phone still in my hand. The metallic tang of blood in the air is unmistakable. It sears my nostrils and tightens my chest. I freeze when the horror comes into frame.

Dante’s body sprawls across the asphalt, a rag doll twisted in ways that scream finality. His wavy hair, once full of life, fans out in a dark halo on the grimy pavement, blood pooling beneath him. Tears blur my vision as I call out his name, knowing there will be no response.

“Jesus, Dante...” My voice is a choked whisper. I drop to my knees, taking in the jagged angle of his neck, the open eyes staring at nothing. There’s no helping him. No fixing this.

Instinctively, my eyes dart up to the balcony six stories above me. A shadow looms there, a darker patch against the night. In the darkness, I can’t make out their face. The figure moves, a slow, taunting sway, then vanishes into the darkness of the apartment.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, looking back down at Dante’s lifeless body. The words are useless. A hollow ache spreads through my chest as I scramble to my feet and hurl myself back into the car. Whoever was on that balcony is coming for me.

Adrenaline pumps through my veins as I throw the car into gear and speed off into the night, leaving behind my friend’s lifeless body. Marco’s voice crackles from the phone, a desperate buzz that pierces the numbness.

“Talk to me, Nico! What’s going on?”

I put the phone back up to my ear as I drive toward the safe house, the image of Dante’s broken body etched into my brain. “They fucking killed him!” I shout into the phone. “Dante’s dead.”

“Dead? What do you mean?” Marco gasps in confusion. “How? Who?”

“I don’t know,” I cry, wiping away the tears blurring my vision. “I saw someone on the balcony, but I couldn’t make them out. When they went back inside, I got the hell out of there.”

“Shit. Shit!” Marco swears. “Okay, we have to move now!”

Traffic blurs past, each car a streak of color that fades into the night. “I can’t believe they fucking killed him,” I growl, the panic I felt initially giving way to rage. A thirst for revenge begins to hatch inside me.

“Listen, Nico,” he says, “you can’t think about Dante right now, okay? We don’t know what they know, but we have to assume they’re probably coming for all of us. Don’t come back here, do you understand?”

“What?” I ask, my mind in a state of chaos.

“We need to get as far away from the city as possible. I’m going to get Gia, and we’ll meet you. I want you to head straight to the truck stop outside Edison. You know which one I’m talking about?” Marco’s voice is calm now. The initial panic has evaporated into a plan of action.

“I can’t just leave him there like that,” I protest, still fixated on the image of Dante’s body. “I have to make whoever did that to him pay.”

“Nico!” Marco shouts. I suddenly hear Gia’s muffled voice in the background, asking what’s wrong. “He’s gone, do you hear me? We can’t do anything about that now, but we can get Gia out of here. I need your help. You want to help me protect her, don’t you?”

“Who’s gone?” Gia’s voice sounds again from the background.

“Nico, I can count on you, right?” Marco asks. “I need you, man. We both do.”

I take a deep breath. “Yes,” I reply, my voice trembling. “I’ll be there.”

Dante’s blood is veining out across the car’s side window, my friend’s life seeping into the streets of the city. My heart aches as I tear my eyes away, gripping the phone tighter.

“Okay,” Marco says. “We’ll head straight there. Be careful.”

“You too,” I agree before hanging up.

The city sprawls beneath me, indifferent to the death it cradles in its concrete arms. As much as I try to fight the images, I see his eyes, once bright with mischief, now staring into nothingness.

I shake my head, trying to dislodge the image. I force myself to focus on Gia’s face. Each mile I move closer to Edison, I know I am moving toward Gia, Marco, and what remains of our fractured family.