30. 30 - Caterina
30 - Caterina
I pull the door closed behind me.
“How is she?”
Turning, I glance over Rocco. His clothes are stained with dirt as he sits with his hands propped on his knees. A lit cigarette dangles between his fingers.
In the fucking hospital . “You can’t smoke here, you know.”
“Shit.” He stubs it out on the floor. “So?”
My shoulders tighten. “She’ll live, so that’s something. Thanks to you.”
For what it’s worth. She has months of recovery ahead of her. Physical. Mental.
She’ll never be the same again.
Rocco shrugs. “I didn’t do anything apart from sing that fucking song. Can’t get it out of my head, now.”
I glance up and down the empty hall. “I… yeah. Dom’s waiting for me outside. You coming back with us?”
He shakes his head. “I’ll stay for a while.”
He pulls a lighter out, flicking it. “Hey, Cat?”
I turn. “Yeah?”
He wiggles his eyebrows at me. “I’ve been looking after your friend, but he’s not in great shape. Figured you should know. You know, in case you want to be the one to kill him.”
My eyebrows draw down as I try to follow his sentence. “What? Who? Why ?”
“How, where, when—,”
“ Rocco —,”
“Relax.” He grins, and there’s something savage behind it that makes me wonder exactly what his story is. “You know, the whiny fucker. Can’t remember his name. Used to be the Fusco enforcer.”
I stare. “ Leo ?”
He points at me. “That’s the one. I’ve been calling him little carrot cock for the last few weeks because I forgot it.”
I grimace at the visual. “How do you – actually, never mind. Thanks.”
“Welcome.”
***
My stomach churns as Vincent pulls the door open, a surprised look on his face. “Hey.”
“They here?” I glance past him. I’ve only been to the apartment shared by Vincent and Tony a handful of times over the last six years. It’s surprisingly tidy.
Vincent follows my look. “Yeah. Uh…Danny was the messy one.”
Neither of us mention Nicolo.
He points me in the direction of Tony’s room. “Hey, Cat. How… how’s Rosa doing?”
I pin him with a hard stare, and he glares back at me. “I just wanted to know if she’s doing okay. That’s it .”
“She’s fine,” I say flatly. “And still sixteen.”
“ Merda ,” he mutters. “I know that.”
“Remember it. Especially now you’ve seen how precisely Gio can shoot when he wants to.”
Hiding my smile at his expression, I head past him and knock on the door.
Frankie pulls it open. “Oh, thank fuck. Maybe he’ll listen to you. He’s a stubborn figlio di puttana . There’s no fucking way he can walk on that leg, but I think his ears are broken as well as his damn tibia—.”
Her words cut off as I throw my arms around her. “It’s good to see you, Frankie Costa.”
She’s smiling slightly, her scar stretching when I pull back. “You too, Corvo. Glad you got out.”
Our eyes meet. “Only because of you. The polish helped. Thank you.”
She glances down at her own, bare nails, her fingers curling over until they’re hidden from view. “Then it was worth it.”
There’s more to say, and both of us know it. Perhaps both of us understand the other in a way none of the men around us possibly could, unless they experienced it themselves.
But today is not the day to rake up those thoughts. I join her in telling off an irritated Tony. He takes it with a scowl, but he doesn’t move his eyes away from Frankie. “I can still fight.”
“No,” I say firmly. “You can’t, Tony. You’d be a liability.”
Frankie rolls her eyes. “ Grazie . Common sense, Antonio.”
I catch them both watching each other. “I’ll come by tomorrow.”
After saying goodbye to Vincent, I call Gio. He answers on the first ring. “Where are you?”
“Walking past the Courtyard. Why has Rocco been looking after Leo?”
He pauses. “ Merda . Is he dead?”
I frown. “Rocco didn’t seem to think so. But he said something about him not having long.”
He blows out a breath. “I’ll meet you in the Courtyard.”
I only wait a few minutes before he appears at the edge. I feel his eyes on me as I walk in a slow circle.
“I always liked this spot.”
Our neutral place. “We’ve had some encounters here, Giovanni Fusco.”
He narrows his eyes at me, but a smile plays on his lips. “Like when you told me you’d stolen all of the Fusco money.”
“Or when you kidnapped me.” I snort. “And then carried me back across the campus because you thought I was dying.”
“I was so damn angry with you.” He takes a step. “I think I knew then, you know.”
I fold my arms. “Oh?”
“You were already taking up far too much space in my head, Corvo.” He pushes some hair away from my face. “And then you gave me a heart attack by bargaining with Matteo, and I finally pulled my head out of my ass.”
I look up at him, sliding my hands around his waist.
“I was a fool,” he murmurs. “You were always going to be inevitable, I think.”
Our lips brush. Once, twice, before I pull back. “I’m very curious about the Leo situation.”
He raises his eyebrow at me. “He’s a traitor.”
“So you cut off his tongue?”
“Not yet.” He takes my hand, heading off the path toward the trees. “I thought he was due some poetic justice first. And then I thought you deserved to have a say. So I’ve been… saving him?”
“And Rocco?” I ask curiously. “I didn’t know you were friends.”
“He’s a psychopath,” Gio mutters. “But… yes, I suppose. Acquaintances, anyway.”
“Male bonding over a little torture. How very traditionally Cosa Nostra of you.”
He laughs. We step into a clearing I recognise, and I turn, my eyes landing on a barren piece of grass. I recognise it instantly, although many others now litter the ground around us. “This is where they buried me.”
“Yes.” Gio walks over to a tree and picks up a shovel. “And now Leo knows exactly what it feels like. Quite a few times over, in fact.”
My mouth opens. “Seriously?”
He shrugs, but his eyes are dark. “He could have killed you. I had no idea – would have stopped it if I did. I’ll do the same to any man who hurts you. Unless you kill them first, that is. And then he went to fucking Matteo . They deserved each other.”
I wait as he shovels piles of dirt from a growing hole. “I think this is possibly both the sweetest and the strangest present I have ever received, you know.”
His lip curls up in amusement, a streak of dirt across his cheek. “I’ll try to keep the surprises going, but no promises.”
“Too late,” I murmur, “That bar is sky high now.”
We both take a side of the coffin that emerges around the depleting dirt, heaving it out of the ground. It doesn’t feel nearly as heavy as I expect it to. A foul odor wafts up, and my nose wrinkles. “Well, that’s fucking disgusting. How long, exactly?”
Gio eyes the box. “Since the night you were taken. Maybe a week or two after. I was letting him out and then putting him back in, but Rocco doesn’t strike me as the most organised. He might be dead.”
“Only one way to find out.”
Gio pushes the lid off, and we both look in.
“I think he might be dead,” I whisper.
I almost hope so. He doesn’t look anything like the Leo who buried me that night. Shrunken and pale, his body covered in his own waste. But his eyelids flicker.
I smile grimly down as they blink open. “Hello, Leo.”
Watery pupils fix on me. A muffled grunt comes from behind the grubby gag in his mouth. My eyes travel up to his forehead. Gio frowns, leaning in to look at the fading orange squiggles. “What the fuck is that?”
I clear my throat. “A drawing… of a little carrot cock. I think.”
He stares at me incredulously, and I shrug. “Rocco.”
We both turn our attention back to Leo.
“Your decision,” Gio says.
I click my tongue as Leo’s eyes dart between us. “We could just… leave him here. Poetic justice.”
But as my eyes travel over him, I sigh. “No. I can’t. He’s too pathetic to live.”
Leo starts to squirm, adding credence to my words. Begging noises drag from his throat. “You think he’d want to die, after all this.”
“Rocco said the same thing.”
Huh. Maybe I do have something in common with Dante’s enforcer.
But it gives me an idea. I pull out my knife, the handle twirling between my fingers. “How’s this, Leo? You can die right now, or you can die in that box and live another few hours. Your choice.”
“I would end it now,” Gio says to him quietly. “Because I won’t be opening this box again.”
His head jerks between us both. Considering.
“Nod for yes. Shake for no.” I wave the knife for emphasis. “It’ll be quick.”
He stares at the blade, his breathing quickening.
And then… he shakes his head.
I sit back on my heels, staring at him in disgust. “ Seriously ?”
Gio shakes his head. “You’re a fucking cockroach, Leo.”
I point the end of my knife at him. “Remind me never to trust your people-reading skills, Fusco. Ever .”
On the final word, I slam the knife down without looking. It goes straight through the gag and into Leo’s skull.
The small amount of light left in his eyes fades quickly.
Gio’s brows lower. “That was probably the kindest thing for him.”
“And yet, still extremely satisfying.”
I take his offered hand, standing and brushing the dirt off my knees before I sink my blade into the ground to help wipe off the Leo juice. “Take a photo and send it to Rocco.”