Vendetta (Page 83)

Neither of them moved. “We’ll see this through,” said Luca.

Nic rolled his neck around until it cracked. He squared his shoulders and clenched his jaw. If this was him in soldier mode, it was damn effective. And that made me want to pull my hair out of my scalp, because he was preparing to kill my uncle.

The Falcones fell out of their conversation; no one wanted to argue anymore. They grew silent, each of them boring holes in the door with their eyes, waiting for Jack to make his move. They knew he was out there; he knew they were inside. Both sides had backup and both sides, presumably, had guns. And I was stuck, crouching in rat piss behind a stack of moldy crates in a warehouse in the middle of nowhere, wondering which of the people I cared about would die first, and whether I would survive long enough to try and forgive the ones that didn’t. If this wasn’t rock bottom, I shuddered to think what was.

I was trying to sneak across a gap between two toppled crates when the door to the warehouse creaked open, first one notch, and then another. I froze. The Falcones raised their guns at the entranceway. I was too late. I had failed.

“Hello,” said a quiet, nervous voice.

My whole body turned to ice.

No one answered her.

“Hello?” she said again, the word just a wavering tinkle in this huge, barren space.

In one echoing click, they set their guns ready to fire, and aimed them at my mother as she edged into the warehouse.

Her hair was falling in messy strands across her ashen face, and she’d pulled her old cardigan over her pajamas. She was still wearing her slippers.

Suddenly it felt like all my nightmares were colliding with each other and exploding into one dreadful spectacle. And this? This was my rock bottom.

If I thought I’d known anger before, this was something else entirely. Heat surged through me, and I could barely keep from screaming. What was Jack thinking? How could he do this to my own mother? To his brother’s wife? I felt sick, and suddenly I didn’t know what side I was on anymore. Luca was right; I should have gone home. I should have left Cedar Hill with my mother. I should have kept her safe. She was the only person in my family I could rely on, and I had been a fool to think anything different.

When she saw the guns that were pointed at her, my mother let out a strangled gasp. Her hands flew to her mouth and she stumbled backward.

The Falcones hesitated, glancing at one another, but they didn’t lower their guns. I couldn’t understand why they would see anything remotely threatening about her. She was five feet tall, a hundred pounds, and shaking like a leaf.

I bit the back of my hand and tried to center myself, but I was screaming on the inside. I crept closer — as close as I could get to her before I couldn’t hide behind the dwindling crates anymore. It still wasn’t close enough. I desperately wanted to spring from the shadows and pull her out of there, but I knew I’d probably be shot before I got to her.

My mother shuffled forward again, cradling herself. “I’m here for my daughter.” The fear made her voice unrecognizable. “I’m here for Sophie.”

Luca lowered his gun. “What the hell does Gracewell think he’s doing?”

The others didn’t move.

“Keep your defenses up,” cautioned Felice. “This is clearly a trap.”

“It’s her mother,” said Nic, turning to spit on the ground. “He’s using her goddamn mother.”

“There are more of them outside,” said Felice. He narrowed his eyes and started scanning my mother as if making sure she wasn’t an illusion. “I don’t know what this is, but if Jack Gracewell thinks we won’t shoot you, then he’s sorely mistaken.”

“Wh-Where is my daughter?” My mother wasn’t focusing. Her attention had fallen away from the guns and she was whipping her head around, searching the warehouse frantically. For me. “Where is she?” she asked, dread drowning out the fear in her breathless voice. “He said she was here. What have you done with her?”

“Where is Jack Gracewell at this moment?” Felice started toward her, leveling his gun at her forehead. “Tell me what he’s planning or I’ll kill you right now.”

“Stop!” shouted Nic. He flung his arm out across his uncle’s chest and Felice skidded to an unexpected halt.

“Nicoli,” he hissed. “You need to learn to pick your battles.”

“She’s not part of this,” he snapped.

“Of course she’s part of this, she’s standing right here!”

“We said no more innocents. You’re as bad as Valentino!”

“Nonsense,” said Felice, indignantly. “Of course we should kill her.”

Luca stepped between Nic and Felice. “Do you really wish to derail this family further, Felice?” he asked, his voice carefully controlled. “This is not what my father would have wanted, and we all know it.”

“Then perhaps you shouldn’t have shunned his last request. You would certainly be in a better position to complain now.”

Luca’s expression grew faintly hostile, but his voice remained unchanged. “I’m sure I don’t need to remind you, Felice, that regardless of my decision, I still outrank you.”

Felice grimaced and lowered his gun slowly. The feeling returned to my jelly legs.

“S-Sophie?” My mother inched forward, craning her neck to see behind the crates ahead of her. But she wouldn’t find me there, and the more she tried, the harder it was to watch her fail. Silent tears were streaming down her cheeks, catching in the half light. “Sophie?”