Chapter 20 Andre #2
Rafael’s gray eyes, serious, almost grim, flick up over the monitors. He says, “Maybe it’ll make sense to you. It’s in Italian though.”
“That’s fine,” I reply.
I go to stand beside Rafael. He plays a clip of Ernesto when he’s on the phone as he’s leaving.
In Italian, Ernesto says, “Yes, I’m fucking sure. It’s Elio.”
“Elio?” I echo. “Is that what he said?”
Rafael shrugs. “That’s what I heard.”
“Play it again.”
Rafael plays it three more times, but I can’t make sense of it. Maybe the audio got corrupted in the clarification. It doesn’t make sense.
I’m at a loss. I can see that Rafael and Dominic are too.
Rafael says, “The best person to ask is Noah.”
I freeze.
“He has resources,” Rafael says. When I don’t still don’t reply, he adds, “He would help you, Andre. He’d help any of us.”
A shudder breaks me from my stillness. I can’t deal with Noah. Dealing with Rafael and Dominic is bad enough.
But Noah …
No.
I can’t.
I shake my head.
Rafael frowns. “Why don’t you want to talk to Noah?”
“I can’t.”
Dominic says, “Do it for him, Rafael.”
Rafael is still frowning, but he picks up his phone.
Jesus fucking Christ, he’s going to call Noah right now. My skin goes tight and my blood run cold. I back away. I can’t be in this room. I can’t—
“Sorry,” Rafael says into the phone. To Noah. “I know it’s late.”
I run into something. My knees buckle. My ass hits a couch.
Rafael says, “I need some information. I’m—we—are looking into the Valencis. They’re—yeah.” He listens for a second. “Me and Dominic, yes, and, um … Andre.”
Silence stretches.
Rafael says, “He’s … I’m honestly not sure. No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Rafael explains, “Ernesto Atolli, who Dominic says is the nephew of Piero Valenci, was in Lush tonight. He took a picture of someone here. Elias Rose. As Ernesto was leaving he called someone. He was speaking Italian, but it seemed like he said that he’d seen Elio.
None of us can make sense of it. We’re just looking for a connection between the Valencis and Elias Rose and the name Elio.
Andre is the one who needs the information.
I’ll get you his number—oh, you have it, okay.
Yeah. Thanks, Noah. Yeah, we’re good. I will. Thanks.”
Rafael ends the call. He turns to look at me. “Noah’s looking into it. He says he’ll call you.”
Jesus Christ.
Jesus fucking Christ.
How does Noah even have my number? I haven’t talked to him in almost fifteen years.
“Andre?” Rafael prompts. “Did you hear me?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you … want to stay here? I have a guest room if—”
“No.”
“Maybe Dominic should drive you home then.”
“No.”
I get up and walk to the door. I can feel Rafael and Dominic both tracking me.
“Noah only wants to help you,” Rafael says as I reach the door.
I know that. I’ve always known that. That’s why I can’t deal with him. I can’t deal with Rafael or Dominic anymore either.
So I don’t even thank them. I just get the fuck out of there.
* * *
I’m sitting in the dark in Peter Grange’s penthouse when my phone rings. I don’t recognize the number, but I know it’s Noah. I don’t answer. I can’t talk to him.
My phone stops ringing. Ten seconds later, a text comes through.
Noah: Pick up.
I reply, Just text me.
A picture comes through. It’s an image of a driver’s license for Elio Valenci. A buzz in my head drowns out my thoughts. I stare, frozen.
Then I call Noah.
“What the fuck is that?” I demand.
He’s silent for a second. Then his gruff voice comes through. “That’s Elio Valenci. Son of Piero Valenci, cousin of Ernesto Atolli. Do you know him?”
I start shivering. “This doesn’t make sense.”
“How do you know him, Andre?”
“That’s not his name.”
Noah says, “Rafael mentioned the name Elias Rose. I haven’t yet found anything on that. Is that how you know him? As Elias?”
I don’t reply. I can’t seem to speak.
Noah sighs through the phone. “Can I come see you?”
I shake my head then realize that I have to speak. “No.”
“Andre—”
“No.”
A long silence follows. Then Noah says, “Elio Valenci has never been a public figure of the family. It’s unusual, given that he’s Piero’s only child. It wasn’t clear to me from talking to Rafael whether you are aware that Piero was a member of the Society. He would have frequented the Island.”
I must be panting because Noah says, “Take a deep breath, Andre.”
“Fuck you,” I gasp.
“Deep breath—now.”
I do it.
“Again,” Noah orders.
I do it.
Noah gives me silence for a moment. He lets me hear what he’s said.
He lets me reorient to that reality. The Island.
Where Rafael and I and so many other boys lived in a huge, luxurious resort that allowed Society members—mafia, corrupt politicians, rich businessmen—to meet and talk. Strike deals. Fuck us.
My brain tries to white out, but I have to focus. I have to stay in this reality.
“Let me come see you,” Noah says.
“No.”
Noah sighs through the phone again. “Call me if you need me.”
The call drops, but I sit there in the dark with the phone at my ear for a long time.
Then I get up.
I gather a few things, but most of what I need is at the warehouse.
I take the elevator two floors down. I let myself into Elias’s apartment. I walk through to his bedroom.
He’s where I left him, drugged on the bed. His head is turned slightly to the side. His lips are parted. He’s so beautiful. He looks so innocent. I’ve always know that he’s not, that he’s too dark for innocence, but he doesn’t look like a liar. He doesn’t look like a fraud.
I stand there for a long time. When I left him here, it was with a sense of being interrupted, of something being incomplete.
I was right.
But I was wrong about what, exactly, was supposed to happen next.