Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Vita
I debate whether to answer it. Either way, I’ll have hell to pay.
“Hello?”
“Chiquita, I will blister your ass when you get home, and then I will fuck you into next week. Thank God you’re okay.”
I suppose that’s one way to express concern. Fortunately, he can’t see my smile, since I’m certain he wants me to take him far more seriously. I certainly don’t doubt he’ll follow through on what he says, but it’s nowhere near as intimidating as he probably wants.
“Look in your rearview mirror, chiquita.”
I glance back and see the Mercedes right behind me. All the windows are tinted to the point of being barely street legal.
“Wave to me, chiquita.”
“What—how—Fuck my life.”
Shit just got as real as shit can get. Alejandro’s chuckle would be sexy if I didn’t truly fear for my ass now.
“Little girl, we have trackers on everything. My car, my weapons, everything. I knew where you parked. That’s how I was waiting for you. I know you went to Salvatore’s because of the tracker on the gun.”
“You have a tracker on that?”
“Of course. We can’t risk leaving evidence behind. We need to account for all our weapons.”
That’s an inconvenient truth.
“Alejandro, I have somewhere else I need to go before I meet you at the condo.”
“Dios mio, chica. You are not naive, so you cannot possibly believe you’re going anywhere without me now that I’ve tracked you down.”
“Wishful thinking?”
“Delusional. Where are you meeting Patrick?”
“How’d you...? Staten Island. There’s a park there. I only know it because of a job a year ago. Someone from out of town.”
“I’ll hang back, but my cousins are behind me. We’ll all fan out and surround the park.”
“Are you crazy? Are they all in cars like yours? You don’t think a Porsche and your Mercedes won’t stand out in that part of the borough? It’s bad enough the only set of keys I could find were for your little race car.”
“No. They’re in subtler vehicles. They didn’t leave in quite the hurry I did since you made it easy for them by strolling into their neighborhood.”
Oh, hell.
Pablo was probably watching me from his front door.
“You can’t lose your shit, Alejandro, if you think something’s going sideways. You must let it play out.”
“I won’t let him kill you first, Vita. If I think he’s going to take the shot, then I’ll do it first.”
“Maim, don’t kill.”
“I make no promises, little one.”
“Fine.”
There’s a pause for a moment before I share what I learned.
“Alejandro, Salvatore thinks the hits are separate jobs, that whoever’s targeted you is here in the States.
Whoever’s going after me could be from anywhere.
He’s pretty confident it’s not anyone in Italy or Sicily after you.
He doesn’t know why Zia Cosima and Zorzi got involved if it turns out the ’Ndrangheta didn’t make me their mark.
But it goes beyond Zia Cosima having an affair with Zorzi’s father. Apparently, like father like son.”
“Ugh, that’s disgusting.”
I can’t imagine Matáis and Alejandro would ever share a woman—if some alternate universe swallowed us whole and made them cheaters.
“I agree. But according to Salvatore, they’d been together for quite a while.”
“Could it have really been something personal with your tía and ex-boyfriend? You wronged them both somehow?”
“Maybe. I don’t know.”
We’re approaching the park on Staten Island, so Alejandro lets me know he and his cousins are turning off and will surround the park. He takes a left, and behind him I see another car that’s far more inconspicuous. The same is true for the two behind it.
I breathe a little easier.
I find a spot to park and go to the well-lit gazebo.
Patrick might suspect—actually, he’ll probably assume—I picked this place so Alejandro could spy.
But this also isn’t some shady back-alley deal.
He knows I picked this place as a general deterrent from him killing me where anybody could witness the scene.
I’m five minutes early, but Patrick shows up exactly on time. He’s certainly an attractive man, and I enjoyed the times we were together. But his commitment to killing me makes him rather unappealing these days.
“Patrick, what the fuck?”
“Don’t take it personally.”
“How can I not? You’re trying to kill me.”
“I’m trying to do a job.”
Something’s amiss with him. It’s not like we’re emotionally close, even if we’ve worked together and fucked. But I know him well enough to sense he’s lying—that it isn’t a job.
“Patrick, is this personal?”
“You think awfully highly of yourself if you believe I care enough about you to want to kill you.”
“Then how much am I worth?”
“Ah, my sweet Vittoria, you are priceless.”
“Bullshit. How much are you being paid to kill me?”
“It’s not just about the money.”
“Then what is it about, Patrick? If I’m going to die, then why be evasive? It’s not like I’ll be able to tell anybody after the fact. Why not just let it all out, and I’ll take it to the grave?”
“Nope, don’t think so.”
His dismissive tone rankles.
“Then I’m going to believe this is personal, and you only said that to insult me. Are you crying into your Cheerios because I didn’t fuck you the night of the gala? That I’m fucking someone else instead?”
His cheeks flush, and I realize I hit the mark.
“I never took you to be a Suzy Homemaker, Vittoria, but now you want to settle down.”
“Why should that matter to you? If I did, I’d be one less competitor on the field. You could snag jobs I’d normally take. You don’t have to kill me to do that.”
“True. But I want to watch your boy toy beg for your life before I take it.”
He draws his knife from his pocket. I don’t outwardly react even if my heart rate picks up. I don’t want to die, but more urgently, I don’t want Alejandro to kill him prematurely.
“Patrick, were you the one who shot into the hotel room?”
“No, that definitely wasn’t me. You know I would’ve hit the right person if it had been.”
“What about my kidnapping and the explosion?”
“The explosion was a hidden blessing. It didn’t kill you or Alejandro like it was supposed to. It got rid of the two people who could’ve stolen that satisfaction from me.”
“You never once made it clear you wanted something more from me.”
“If I had, would you have been with me?”
“No.”
I answer the question honestly because he’d know if I lied. He glowers at me, not appreciating my bluntness. I press on.
“Patrick, you’ve always known there was no chance between us. Even if there were, did you really want me that badly?”
I don’t believe for a moment this is about unrequited love.
“No. But I’d rather no one have you than that piece of shit.”
“What do you have against Alejandro?”
“You want him.”
The man is truly not right in the head. He doesn’t want me enough to ever make it clear he wants more than our few one-night stands. Yet he won’t let me be with anyone else. He’s so committed to that he’s willing to die for it.
“Patrick, what’re you hoping to gain from all of this? Do you want me dead?”
“Not particularly, but I accept the inevitable now that you’ve chosen him.”
I inch closer to him. I’m certain Alejandro’s having a conniption right now. I can hear his snarly voice in my head. And my ass has phantom pains from the spanking I’ve earned.
“Tell me what I can do to end this, Patrick.”
“Will you beg for his life?”
“If I have to.”
“Will you beg for your own?”
“If you insist.”
I take another two steps forward, bringing me nearly within his reach.
“Would you fuck me to save his life?”
“If that’s what it would take, I’d never willingly do that.”
A man would have to force me before I’d voluntarily betray Alejandro like that. What I already did was bad enough, but Patrick doesn’t need to know.
“Is that what it’ll take?”
I lift the hem of my shirt, and his eyes dart to the bandage over my ribs.
“Was that you? Did you orchestrate the nurse and the shootout at the hospital?”
“Yes, you weren’t supposed to get hurt. The bag of shit who did that is dead.” He points to the bandage.
“Thank you.”
I only say it to stroke his ego. I cross my arms as though I’ll lift the shirt over my head. Instead, my left hand grabs my gun. I aim and shoot him in the belly. He looks down as he instinctively covers the wound before looking up at me.
His expression—the definition of horror.
I lunge, grab his knife, and slash it from his inner left collarbone to his armpit. Then, I twist my wrist, dragging it across his chest to his nipple, and stab at his sternum. Between the gunshot and slashing, blood sprays across me, and I know I look like the movie character Carrie.
“Patrick, you know none of these wounds’ll kill you quickly. I could still keep you alive if you give me what I want to know.”
“You know I don’t fear death.”
I lift the blade to the bridge of his nose, then drag the flat side of it along his left nostril before repeating it on the right side.
“No, you don’t fear death, but you fear your looks fading. You could die handsome, or I can ensure you’re a grotesque remnant of what you once were. Then I’ll take a photo and send it to your parents, so the last thing they remember of you is the hideous monster I made you.”
I rest the tip of the blade on his lower lip.
I can and will do worse if he refuses to cooperate.
His body trembles, and he sinks to his knees, no longer able to support his own weight.
When he topples forward, I pluck his gun from the holster at his lower back.
I kick both ankles to check for a spare gun.
He has none. I dig my foot underneath his shoulder and lift before forcing him onto his back.
“You wanted the man I fell in love with as collateral damage for me not wanting you. All you did was test and prove it’s him and me against the world.
Can you say any of this bullshit was worth it?
Give me the information I need, and I’ll make your death painless.
Refuse me, and I’ll have Alejandro fuck me right in front of you.
I’ll put a fucking zip tie around your balls and make you jack off but not come. ”
“And you want to call me a sick fuck, Vittoria?”
“I’m pissed you want to kill me, but that doesn’t even come close to the pure loathing I have for you for targeting Alejandro. That is what my vengeance is for.”