Chapter 21 #4
Frank’s voice is laced with pain, and his grief is obvious in his gaze.
It’s something I know he’ll never get over.
I’ve seen it in Siobhan and Tate O’Rourke.
They lost their daughter, Colleen, when a mercenary mistook her for one of Siobhan’s sisters.
I know how I feel without my papá. I can’t imagine how exponentially worse it must be to lose a child.
I’m relieved Tre wasn’t there to witness it like I did when my father was murdered.
It was bad enough being almost eleven when it happened.
I can’t imagine what it would’ve done to Tre to witness something like that when she was even younger than me.
I know what it did to Jorge, who was the same age as Tre when Papá died.
Tommaso inhales before looking at Santi. The man dips his chin before Tommaso looks back at me. Frank’s still lost in a memory.
“Francesco threatened to kidnap Tricia and sell her to a bratva in Moscow. I do not doubt he would. He swears it would force the New York bratva to intervene since they’d never ignore sex trafficking, and it would be his opportunity for revenge against them since they supported the Camorra and ’Ndrangheta during the recent turf war.
He thought it would bend them into submission.
The man is utterly unhinged and doesn’t understand the influence and reach the Kutsenkos have back in Moscow even though they almost never visit their homeland.
He not only wants information, but he also demanded weapons and money.
I believe he’s testing me to see whether or not I will go to Salvatore.
I haven’t. I will if this continues and anyone targets Tricia again.
I know Salvatore’s coming to see you, and I’ll be at that sit-down, but it’s very different that you initiated it rather than if I had. ”
I exhale as I digest what I’ve heard. My mind’s going in all different directions as I consider what this means.
The men head out to whatever it is they’re going to do. I join Tre on the patio. Unlike me, she can let me see what she’s doing on her computer. I’m constantly impressed by her work ethic and her projects while she recovers.
We sit in companionable silence until lunchtime.
Neither of us are much for having breakfast—anything but crackers and apple juice before about eleven still makes Tre turn green, so we enjoy lunch which I cook for her.
It’s not until we slip into bed that night that she finally asks me about the meeting with her father and uncles.
I’m hesitant to reveal the part about Francesco threatening to kidnap her.
“Joaco, I know there’s more to this than what you’ve said. I wasn’t listening to this conversation, but I’ve heard others. I don’t know for sure, but I suspect Francesco threatened to snatch me. I doubt it would be for a ransom. I think he’d sell me to someone.”
It startles me that she’s so close to the truth. I don’t want to acknowledge whether she’s right or wrong. Instead, I pull her against my chest.
“Chiquita, you won’t be out of arm’s reach, so nothing like that can happen.”
I tip her chin up and press a soft kiss to her lips before we rub our noses together. She shifts and straddles me. At first, we simply watch each other. I wonder if she wants to continue the conversation when she takes me inside her but doesn’t move.
“I’m scared, Daddy. I’m scared for our baby, for you, for our families, and for me.
I feel as safe as I can when we go out with all the guards, but it still makes me nervous.
I feel trapped by not knowing. When you’re not near me, I’m in a state of near panic.
The only time I relax is when I’m with you.
I’m scared about what this level of stress is doing to the baby. What if I’m hurting them?”
I sit up, and she shifts to stretch her legs. I tuck her hair behind her ears before cupping her jaw.
“I’m terrified, Tre. For you and the baby.
That something might happen to me, and I won’t be here to protect you.
That this is about me, and that if something happens to the baby or your family, you’ll never forgive me.
I’d understand if you didn’t, even if it’d tear me apart.
I don’t know that I can live without you if something happens to you. ”
“If something happened to you, I’d only live for our child.”
I peer into her luminescent green eyes, and I pray she sees in mine what I see in hers.
I press my lips against hers, pouring all my feelings into this kiss.
I feel it in return from her. We wrap our arms around each other and cling to each other.
When we’re breathless, we pull apart and rest our foreheads together while we stroke up and down each other’s back.
“I love you, chiquita.”
“I love you, Daddy.”
We speak at the same time. If we’d used our names, there would’ve been an earnestness to it. I would’ve reveled in it. But the terms of affection are so deeply intimate between us that I feel her love all the way to my soul.
“Tre, I won’t rush you or pressure you, but I’m marrying you. Soon.”