3. Chapter 3
Chapter three
“ Y ou could have at least taken me somewhere I could clean up and get decent,” Elio grumbled as Vince pulled into the open garage and closed the automatic door. “Don’t you think this will be the first place the cops check?”
“After your apartment,” Vince agreed without concern. “You can clean up here. Then, Nonno wants to talk to you—call it a debrief.”
Elio shook his head, frustration and anxiety vying for the top spot in his chest.
“This has nothing to do with the family,” he argued. His hands were sweating, and he wasn’t sure why. Vince would know any number of off-the-radar places where Elio could regroup and rest, but of course, his loyal cousin would always take him to their grandfather’s lair first.
Vince climbed out of the driver’s side without another word. With a groan, Elio pushed open his own door and slowly stood. He limped after his cousin into the house, pushing aside his misgivings. He was here now. He might as well face the music and get it over with.
As they entered the large kitchen, Iolana, Angelo’s housekeeper, turned from the sink where she was washing dishes. The middle-aged woman’s dark curls were piled atop her head, and her face brightened with a welcoming smile.
She clucked and tsked as she gave Elio a once-over.
“Boy, you look like you survived a bomb,” she said with a smirk.
“I feel how I look,” Elio replied, attempting a return smile.
“You go straight up to the first bedroom,” she said. “Everything is all laid out for you. When you’re ready, your grandfather will be waiting in the sunroom.”
“Got it.” Elio nodded. He took a deep breath. The scents filling the kitchen reminded him how hungry he was. It had been twenty-four hours with little more than a few vending machine energy bars and bottled water. “Hey, is there anything to eat around here?” he asked.
Iolana scowled at him, obviously grievously offended. “Have you ever been here when there was not something to eat?” she demanded. “You go get cleaned up and out of those bloody hospital duds. Then, we’ll talk about food.”
Returning to his grandfather’s house always gave Elio the feeling that he’d been sent back in time to when he was eighteen or nineteen. He wasn’t sure if either Angelo or Iolana realized that he was no longer a teenage boy who needed direction in his life.
Elio knew what he wanted to do with his life—or at least, he had up until twenty-four hours ago.
After seeing Elio safely into the house and greeting Iolana, Vince disappeared, so Elio was alone as he climbed the sweeping staircase to the second floor. He turned the doorknob on the first door he came to and entered one of many guest suites his grandfather’s staff always kept ready—likely for situations just like this.
Heading straight for the big bathroom, Elio turned the shower on as hot as it would go, then began slowly removing his clothes. It was tough going as every part of his body seemed to hurt. Here a sting, there a sharp piercing, elsewhere a throbbing ache.
As he gingerly pulled the blood-soaked shirt over his head, his mind flashed to Rissa gently helping him put it on. He could almost feel the brush of her fingers against his bare shoulders and smell the fresh sweetness of her hair. The memory of her ponytail falling over her shoulder and close to his face would not be forgotten soon.
Facing the mirror above the wide porcelain sink, Elio looked at himself for the first time since everything had happened. Iolanda was right—he was a disaster. His tan skin had a slightly gray cast. Turning his head, he could see the bristling arch of stitches behind his ear. His torso was a mass of bruises and cuts. But it was the long line of sutures stretching from the middle of a huge red and purple bruise on his left side and up to the center of his lower chest that drew his eyes.
A few of the stitches had broken loose, and the entire wound was crusted with drying blood. Dragging his gaze from the gruesome sight, he met his own bloodshot eyes in the mirror.
You have got to put Rissa behind you, he told himself. She wants no place in all of this, and she’s way too good to get tangled up in your complicated family.
Because Elio knew it would always be complicated, no matter how he extricated himself.
He finished undressing and stepped into the steaming shower, letting it pummel him until his muscles relaxed, his skin tingled, and no one part of him hurt worse than another.
When he finally stepped out, he went to the cabinet above the sink, opening it to find an unusually comprehensive array of first aid items. It was a clear testament to the type of guests his grandfather usually received at the house.
Elio anointed his various injuries with antibacterial ointment and stuck a few butterfly bandages where the sutures had broken open on his abdomen. Then, he painstakingly dressed in the clothes that had been left on the bed for him and reluctantly headed downstairs to the sunroom.
When he entered the plant-filled sunroom, he found his grandfather seated in a cushioned armchair at the head of a well-spread table, sipping from a glass of red wine. Even though it was nearly nine p.m., the food was all breakfast fare: biscuits and gravy, scrambled eggs, and bacon. Elio’s stomach rumbled loudly as he caught a whiff of the tantalizing smells.
Thank you, Iolanda.
Angelo rose to his feet as Elio approached, embraced him, and kissed him on the cheek. For a moment, Elio relaxed into the hug, breathing in the familiar scent of his grandfather’s cologne and cigars.
“I’m glad you are all right, Elio,” Angelo said gruffly. “Here, sit down. Eat. And we will talk.”
Elio obeyed, lowering himself into the straight-backed chair across the table from his grandfather. Vince was nowhere to be seen, but Elio was fully aware that his cousin would have already given his grandfather a report. He tried not to let his uneasiness about what was said or where this conversation would lead keep him from enjoying the food as he dug in.
Angelo let him get two bites in before commencing.
“There’s no doubt that you were set up to take the fall for that bombing,” he said without preamble. Elio glanced up, surprised.
“How do you know?”
Angelo waved a hand agitatedly. “The client to whom you were delivering that money at the concert hall,” he said. “They specifically asked for you.”
Elio lowered his fork. “And that didn’t strike you as suspicious? Who were they? What was the money for?” All questions I should have asked before agreeing to have any part in that job, he berated himself.
“I don’t know who they were,” his grandfather growled. “That was supposed to be something you found out for me. A new group—a shadow gang. They would give me no names.”
A chill ran up Elio’s spine.
“What is going on here, Nonno?” he demanded. “Why did you send me into that? And what were they offering you in exchange for that money?” His voice was rising with his agitation, and Angelo glared at him, unused to being openly challenged.
“They asked for you because they believed—as I do—that you will be the next leader of the Accardi family—” the old man started.
“I’ve already told you that’s not going to happen,” Elio interrupted, his voice sharp. “I’m not interested.”
“Then why are you interested in what the money was for?” Angelo asked slyly.
“Because I almost lost my life delivering it!” Elio exclaimed, his appetite spoiled beyond saving. He pushed his plate away, letting it clatter against the other dishes on the table. “Because you’re telling me that whoever it was meant for set me up to be the fall guy for a mass bombing!”
“Calm down!” Angelo ordered, and the cold edge to his voice quelled Elio’s temper, just as it had when he was a boy. Some habits were hard to break. “I want to know just as badly as you do who is responsible for this and why,” Angelo said in the same taciturn voice. “When I find out who it is, I will end them.”
Elio shook his head. Why had he thought he could reason with his grandfather? Angelo Accardi was not a man to be reasoned with.
The old man leaned back in his chair, kneading the large, scarred knuckles of his right fist with his left hand. “For now,” he mused, “we need you to lay low. Perhaps we’ll get you out of the country. Then, we’ll find out what the police have on you and how they got it.”
“I don’t want to leave the country,” Elio interjected. “I want to help find out who the true bomber is.”
“Oh, so now you want to help,” Angelo scoffed. “Fine. You lay low then.” He cast a cunning side-eye in Elio’s direction. “Vince told me you escaped by taking a doctor from the hospital as a hostage. What does this doctor know about you?”
“Nothing,” Elio said doggedly, his heart rate spiking at the mention of Rissa. “She knows nothing, Nonno. She has no part in this.”
“And yet,” Angelo said distinctly, “I feel that she does. Vince shared his suspicions that you were attracted to this woman. Even, perhaps, that you confided in her.”
Elio could feel his ire for his cousin rising. How could he possibly have intuited that?
“We were together for less than twenty-four hours,” he snapped. “Vince has no idea what he’s talking about.”
“Then why are you being so protective of her?”
“She’s an innocent person. I don’t want anyone to be drawn into this that doesn’t have to be.”
“Hmm,” Angelo said. “And what of the fact that she was with you at the parking garage and saw you drive away?”
“The parking garage is already compromised because the police followed us there,” Elio said. “And she barely got a glimpse of the car, which I also dumped immediately. She’s not going to cause any issues, Nonno.”
Elio could see that Angelo wasn’t convinced. As he watched his grandfather scheme, his stomach revolted against the few bites of dinner he’d managed to get down.
“Nevertheless,” the old man said after a moment’s contemplation, “This doctor will need watching. I trust no one who was connected with this in any way. Especially not a girlfriend of yours,” he said with another meaningful glance.
Elio glared.
“Perhaps I will have Vince monitor her for the next few days,” Angelo finished.
“No. I’ll monitor her,” Elio said firmly. “I have to lay low anyway. It will give me something to do and keep me on the move, away from this house or any other that we don’t wish to have compromised.” His heart beat heavily in his chest as he waited for his grandfather’s reply.
So much for forgetting all about her, he thought. But I have to keep my family away.