Chapter Eleven
BECCA
A silence falls over the restaurant, so still a feather could fall without drifting one way or another. I stare at my father, every part of me on pause while my thoughts struggle to catch up. “I-I don’t understand. Sell me, to who?”
“I never wanted you to find out like this.” He drags his hand down his face, taking the corners of his mouth with it. “Christ, I never wanted you to find out at all.”
A black wave of panic rises in my stomach. “Answer me.”
“I don’t know. I was too afraid to find out.”
“So, the man who killed your wife threatens to sell your daughter into a trafficking ring and you just shrug your shoulders and keep your head down? You’re the chief of police. You had resources to?—”
“To what, Becca?” he snaps. “To send after him so he could make good on his threat and turn my little girl into some sick billionaire’s sex slave? I’d just buried my wife. I couldn’t take the risk.”
“But what about everyone else’s little girls? Didn’t they matter?”
“I didn’t kidnap those girls.”
“You didn’t stop it, either!” I shout, the realization that my father was complicit in a sex trafficking ring coating my throat with bile. “Silence carries just as much guilt as blood. Don’t you see that?”
“Don’t you dare lecture me about not caring about those girls,” he warns, his eyes shining with something I haven’t seen in twenty-two years.
“There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t pray for them.
Judge me all you want, but I’m not sorry for choosing you over them.
After hearing their screams, I would’ve sacrificed more than my morals to ensure that would never be you. ”
It’s his phrasing, rather than the emotion behind it, that knocks me off my righteous pedestal. “That’s why Dagger made the threat.”
“What do you mean?”
“He saw your reaction that night and knew it was the key to controlling you. He’d already killed your wife.
If he killed me, that’d be it. You’d have nothing left to lose, and they’d have nothing to hold over your head.
But threatening to make me part of what you saw on the docks tapped into a part of your psyche he knew he could manipulate. ”
He’s silent for a moment, then his shoulders fall with a low, drawn-out sigh. “Sometimes, I wish you’d chosen another profession.”
“Huh?”
“That whole antiseptic-latent speech you just gave. It’s like you were reading a stock report rather than talking about your mother’s murder and trafficked women.”
Because it’s the only way to remain standing on a floor crumbling beneath me.
My mother’s death taught me to see dark where everyone else saw light.
Within every human lay a monster. Behind every smile lay fangs.
In every hand hides a weapon. Eventually, I found solace in psychiatry, where all my fears got sliced down the middle and put in neat, orderly boxes.
Right and wrong.
Black and white.
Good and evil.
The boxes stayed sealed until Gianni and my father turned them upside down.
But I don’t tell him any of that. Instead, I give him the concise, palatable answer he needs.
“I’m not being cold. I’m being direct and calling a spade a spade.
” The word slips out so easily, I don’t even realize it until his lips flatten.
“Twenty-two years of coating the truth brought us here,” I say, tapping my index finger against the table.
“Don’t you think it’s time for a new approach? ”
“You’re right. How’d you get to be so smart?”
“I chose the right profession.”
He huffs out a low chuckle. “Well played.”
“You know, you and Gianni really aren’t that different.”
His smile fades. “Becca, I’m not?—”
“Just listen to me for a minute,” I say, holding both palms up.
“Both of you are arrogant, proud, and sometimes insufferable to be around… Did I mention arrogant?” My attempt at humor is met with rolled eyes.
“But you’ve also both sacrificed all that and more for me.
You both try to protect me from the dark by standing in front of it, but what neither of you understand is that shielding me doesn’t keep monsters away.
It makes it easier for them to attack from behind.
I know you did what you thought you had to do back then, but this is now.
I’m not a child anymore. It’s time to fight with me, not for me. ”
“You remind me so much of your mother.”
“I do?”
“She was so strong and brave—always held people accountable while still finding worth in their faults. They took her because they knew she was the best part of me,” he says wistfully. “I see so much of her in you. I think I always did. That’s why I risked everything.”
The lump in my throat swells. I’m such an asshole. All this time, I’ve only cared about my pain. “You couldn’t lose the only piece of her you had left.”
“It’s ironic, isn’t it? In trying to save you, I lost you.”
It’s a confession that leaves us treading uncharted waters. We’ve avoided anything resembling honesty between us for so long, I don’t know how to process it. Considering my current predicament, I’m the last one who should cast stones.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see him toss his napkin on the table, then slide his chair back. By the time I turn my full attention on him, he’s on his feet, his wallet in hand.
“I don’t know about you, but I’ve had enough of dining inside a snow globe.” He motions toward the bar area where four servers watch us like we’re the entertainment. “You ready to get out of here?”
Not even close. After everything that’s happened, I need time alone to decompress. Plus, I’m not prepared for the inevitable fight Gianni and I will have once Leo rats me out.
“Actually, I think I’m going to sit here a little longer.” When he starts lowering into his chair, I gently grab his wrist. “I meant alone.”
He darts his eyes around the restaurant. “I don’t think?—”
“Don’t worry.” I smile. “Leo is right outside. I’m perfectly safe.” I wrestle with what to say next. I know Gianni wants to keep information contained, but I’d never forgive myself if something happened to him. “But I need you to promise you’ll do something for me.”
“I don’t like the sound of that.”
I inhale deeply and hope I’m doing the right thing.
“I need you to get out of Providence and lie low for a while. Take a leave from the force if you have to, but promise me you’ll leave Rhode Island.
Don’t ask me how I know this,” I say, shutting down any demands before he can make them.
“I can’t tell you. I’m risking a lot by telling you this much, but there are people after you, Dad, dangerous people who want to hurt you.
Gianni is doing everything he can to keep them stable, but… ”
“He’s one shield holding back an army,” he says flatly.
I’m a little blindsided by his mechanical acceptance, but I’ll take it over combative denial. “Pretty much.”
He pulls multiple twenty-dollar bills from his wallet and tosses them on the table. “All right, I’ll leave Providence. Marvin owns a cabin in the Poconos. I’m sure he’d let me use it for an ‘unscheduled’ vacation. But only for a little while; you understand?”
I nod because that shift in tone means it’s the best I’m going to get. “Yeah, I got it.”
“Good. Now, you have to do something for me .”
“What?”
“Get a gun.”
I let out a shrill laugh that I immediately choke on when I see the stern look on his face. “Oh, God, you’re serious.”
“Becca, did you hear anything I said? Your new husband’s family trafficks women.
” He holds up his hand before I can argue.
“I’m not accusing him of being aware of it.
I’m simply stating a fact. You’ve voluntarily immersed yourself in a world that places very little value on female life.
I’ve witnessed it firsthand. You claim Gianni loves you… ”
“He does.”
“I hope that’s true, but there are far more like him who don’t. You want to stop being a victim? Start thinking like a predator. If you don’t, you’ll never live a moment of peace.” He stares down at me, his expression softening. “Trust your instincts, Becca. They’ve always been right.”
I fight against the burning behind my eyes. “I’m not so sure about that.”
This trafficking revelation has tanked my trust in my instinct.
Finding out Marcello sold women as a part of the Marchesi business model scares me more than any threat from the Authority.
Not because I think Gianni could’ve had a hand in it, but his tendencies toward sins of omission make me question his depth of awareness.
Did he really not know, or like my father, did he simply look away?
However, arguing will only prolong this battle, so I don’t.
“I’ll think about the gun.”
“I hope you will.” He tilts his chin in that know-it-all way that infuriates me. “I know you want to stand by the ones you love, but you can’t if you’re dead.”
It’s not that simple. I’m in a no-win situation.
“You don’t get it. I’m under a microscope. Everything I do reflects on Gianni.”
“If Gianni is the man you keep trying to convince me he is, he’ll agree with me.
If not…” A wistful look crosses his face as he taps the bridge of my nose with his finger.
“Then, maybe there’s too much tint in those rose-colored glasses of yours.
” With a kiss on my forehead, he turns and walks away.
Something inside me tightens, and my mouth opens before I can stop it. “Dad?” Glancing to the side, I find him paused at the door, his chin cocked over his shoulder. “For what it’s worth … I forgive you.”
The tension coiling his body eases, and he offers a smile that finally meets his eyes. “It’s worth everything.”
And then he’s gone.
I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting replaying my father’s words in my head, but it had to be long enough for the server to get antsy, because she appears at the table out of nowhere, her tight smile canceled out by her tapping toe.
“Can I get you anything else?”
I guess we’re doing this now.
“No, thank you, but could you tell me if there’s a Bobby that works here.”
“He’s the owner.” Her eyes narrow to thin slits. “Why?”
“I’d just like to offer my compliments. The food was delicious.”
Her gaze lowers to my plate of untouched caprese. “I’ll see if he’s busy.”
Not even one minute later, a thin man with a ring of black hair around his head rushes toward me, wiping his hands on his apron, a bright smile on his face.
“ Buongiorno . My name is Bobby Sartorre. I’m the owner, and…
” The words die on his tongue as I glance up, his smile disappearing as he grabs onto a chair. “ Madre di Dio . It’s you.”