Chapter Nine #2
My father turns to me with a stricken look on his face. “Is this true?”
I glance at Gianni, a silent question in my eyes.
Can I tell him?
His answer comes with a slight dip of his chin.
Exhaling nervously, I straighten my spine. “Yes. I love Gianni, and I married him willingly…” His face morphs into a mix of confusion and suspended belief as I twist my fingers in my lap. “However…”
His cop eyes sharpen. “However?”
“However, there were extenuating circumstances that forced things to, uh, speed up.”
“What sort of circumstances?”
Knowing he’s going to lose his shit makes this ten times harder. Our relationship may be dysfunctional, but he still deserves more than half-assed answers. “I kind of saw something I wasn’t supposed to.”
His shoulders slump. “Oh, Becca…”
“It’s my fault,” I say, quickly intercepting any blame he might try shifting beside me.
“Gianni tried to warn me, but I didn’t listen.
There are people here who…” I swallow hard, attempting to word this in a way that lets him understand without making him an accessory after the fact.
“...don’t appreciate outsiders intruding on their ‘meetings.’ So they ensure said outsiders never make the same mistake again.
The only way Gianni could prevent them from eliminating me from all ‘meetings’ was to ensure I had a permanent seat at the table. ”
I ignore the stab of guilt from glossing over the part where Gianni saved his life, as well. Maybe it’s a mistake to keep it from him, but the last thing I want to do is become the reason my father has to look over his shoulder, too.
The weathered lines in his face deepen. “This is all my fault.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Why? Why ?” he repeats, his face reddening again.
“You’re paying the consequences for my sins, Becca.
Don’t you see? If I’d only quit the force and moved you and your mother far away from Providence when Marcello first started making threats, none of this would’ve happened.
Carol would still be alive, you wouldn’t be married to a goddamn mob boss, and my family wouldn’t have suffered for my weakness. ”
“That’s not true.” We both turn to find Gianni standing beside the couch, staring out the window with his hands clenched by his side. “It would’ve simply delayed it.”
My father stiffens. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Marcello’s offers weren’t multiple choice. He would’ve hunted you relentlessly until there was nowhere else to run.” Gianni glances over his shoulder, his expression sullen. “The only thing that would’ve been different is all three of you would be dead.”
My father curses under his breath and drags his hand over his thinning hair. “So, how did you gain so much influence with these ‘ people ?’ From what I heard, you stabbed them in their backs before turning yours.”
Gianni remains surprisingly calm. “It’s amazing what sins people will forgive when you present them with a bigger one.”
“I assume you’re referring to your father’s covert Providence activities. ”
He nods. “I’ve been tasked with dismantling them … which brings me to an important stone wall I’ve run into. Since you’re here, maybe you can help tear it down.”
“What would I know that’d be of use to someone like you?”
“Do you know the name of the man Marcello had running Providence?”
“Dagger,” my father quips so matter-of-factly, my chest squeezes.
“Yes, we know that.” Gianni’s narrowed gaze seeks mine as he steps closer, a quick flare of his nostrils the only outward sign of his impatience. “I need more than an unimaginative moniker.”
“I don’t know his real name. The man murdered my wife, Marchesi. It’s not like we had a standing tee time, for Christ’s sake.”
“Think harder, Reese. We need identifying details.”
Dad gives him a glassy stare. “He was tall with red hair, beady eyes, and horse teeth.”
Each word is an ax swing to the chest.
Just like that, I’m back in my parents’ living room, kneeling over my mother’s body.
“I know what he fucking looks like, too. I need a name or a location.” The sharp edge in Gianni’s tone pulls me back from the darkness. As the haze clears, I notice he’s talking to my father, but keeping his eyes on me … watching, protecting. “It’s not just Becca’s?—”
“I’d really like to speak to my father alone, if you don’t mind,” I say in one rushed breath.
He arches a dark, slanted eyebrow. “I’m sorry?”
I hope this doesn’t blow up in my face, but I’m tired of spinning in the same tired circle.
I clear my throat, my heart beating like a chaotic drumline. “You mentioned earlier you needed to check in with some people. Why don’t you do that and give Dad and me some time to catch up?”
He gives me a hard stare, which I answer with a silent plea to let me handle this.
It feels like my heart is going to hammer through my chest until he clenches his jaw and lets out a defeated exhale that lets me know while he isn’t happy, and it’s taking everything he has to walk away, he’s doing it anyway … for me.
“Right, thanks for reminding me,” he says, his clenched teeth trapped behind his strained smile.
I nod pleasantly as his gaze shifts between my father and me.
“I have my phone if you need anything. I can be here in minutes. If not, don’t forget I have no less than ten men circling the perimeter who can intervene immediately. ”
“We’ll be fine.”
Giving me one last volatile look, he walks out the door, leaving the two of us in uncomfortable silence.
After moments of fidgeting, my father turns to me, all the hostility drained from his face. “Okay, he’s gone. You can tell me the truth, now.”
I sigh. Same old Dad; hears everything, but listens to nothing. “I already have.”
He stares at me, his eyes narrowing. “Christ, you really love him, don’t you?”
“I do.”
“If we hurry, we can make it through Connecticut before he realizes you’re gone.”
I smile. His weak delivery tells me he knows it’s a useless offer, but I don’t fault him for trying.
In fact, in some dysfunctional way, it may be the first time I’ve truly felt like his daughter instead of a piece of depreciating real estate.
However, his Hail Mary gives me an idea.
One I know I’m going to catch infinite hell for. “Would you settle for Hackensack?”