‘Why are you helping me?’
She dropped her gaze and when she spoke again she was just a little girl in a thrumming, glitzy club where she didn’t belong. And it hit me so clearly in that moment that I felt an intrusive and weird urge to hug her. ‘Because I was you, Sophie,’ she said, glancing over her shoulder. ‘I wanted to study music, to see the world, to hang out with my friends, to do good things and be a good person. I still am you in a lot of ways, so I get it. There’s this blood in us – people who think they can speak for us.’ She started tearing her fingernails along her arms like she could scratch it all out of her if she tried hard enough. I grabbed her hands and pushed them away from her arms, to make her stop. They fell limp at her sides. ‘You’re lucky. There’s another life for you. You’ve just got to be smart enough to hold on to it, to get back to it. And that means maybe you need to play the game—’
I was wrenched away from the girl with the kind heart and the big dreams. Five spindly fingers clasped around my wrist, long red nails digging into my skin like talons. I was twirled around until Donata’s face was inches from my own and Sara’s was lost somewhere in the crowd behind me. Donata’s lips had twitched into what I supposed was her attempt at a smile. ‘You and I aren’t done.’
Her heavy-lidded gaze was steady on mine and I felt suffocated by it. Despite Sara’s gentle presence, the friendly way she spoke, her unassuming nature, this was the real Marino family and I couldn’t pretend to like them.
Jack was hovering behind Donata. His face had twisted and for the first time, he seemed uncomfortable. Still, he let her hold me like that, digging her nails into my skin until I felt her draw blood.
Donata threw her head back. ‘Antony,’ she called, bird-like in pitch. ‘Antony, it’s time!’ I watched the faces behind her, their eyes snapping to the back of her head, but whoever Antony was – her son? A would-be torturer à la Calvino Falcone? – he was either too scared to answer her call, or maybe he wasn’t there at all. ‘Marco! Libero!’ she called, but still, no one came to her aid. The music was too loud.
I kept my voice steady. ‘I can’t do anything for you right now. I have a pounding headache and I need to go home. Let me come back another day,’ I added, taking Sara’s advice.
Behind us, the singer was crying her way through a nineties pop song.
Donata Marino rounded on me. ‘You can go when you’ve agreed to help us,’ she snapped.
Jack stepped closer to me, around the side of her, keeping his distance, like she was radioactive. ‘Donata,’ he warned. ‘You’re scaring her.’
She rolled her eyes, but he had managed to shut her up. He softened his voice, peppering it with gentle force as if to make up for Donata’s aggression. ‘There’s something of mine in the diner, Soph, but the Falcones are watching the place night and day. It’s too dangerous for us to go in. But not for you. You can help secure it. You can sneak in unharmed, and bring it to us.’
‘Get it yourself.’ The words were out of my mouth before the meaning of what he had said dropped into my stomach.
‘There’s a safe,’ Jack cut in. ‘And we—’
‘No,’ I hissed. ‘No way.’
I really could have laughed right then. How insane did they think I was? They were both staring at me, waiting for me to change my answer. My head was so heavy. Suddenly it felt like the whole club had tripled in capacity. The dance floor behind me was filling up. People were starting to jostle against my back. The singer was screaming her next verse.
I could make out Millie through the crowds, fighting towards me. ‘We should go,’ she shouted, pushing her way closer. ‘Something’s going on.’
Jack was there in a flash, blocking my immediate exit. ‘Sophie, I know it’s not an ideal situation but there’s a lot of money at stake. If we could just sit down and talk about all of this … Your dad would want me to help you. He would want me to keep you safe.’
‘You’re the one putting me in danger.’ I stumbled backwards, into the crowds. They were closing in, stifling me.
Something struck me in the back and I crashed nose first into my uncle’s chest. Razor Grin and Eric Cain were at his sides, shouting, pulling him away from me. But Jack was fighting them. He was shouting too, his face turning crimson with fresh rage. ‘How could you betray me? How could you do this to us?’ It took me an extra second to realize it was me he was yelling at. But I hadn’t done anything. I faltered backwards, away from his huddle, sinking into a scrap of shoving bodies.