Inferno (Blood for Blood #2)

I was trying really hard not to think about the ring in my pocket. Trying not to think about my father with his greying hair and melancholy eyes, rotting in prison. Where he deserved to be, as it turns out. And I was really trying hard not to cry in front of my uncle.

He heaved another tower of money into the duffel bag and swept his hand inside the safe, checking that everything was out. ‘And what about your dad?’

‘Leave him out of this.’ I didn’t have anywhere near enough energy to open that box of broken promises. I wanted to twist my hands in his collar and scream at him. But I could never get to him. He was behind bars. Safe.

Another wheezing laugh escaped Jack. He slammed the heavy brass door shut and locked it. ‘Newsflash, Persephone, we’re all fucked up in this together. Your father and I are blood-red with guilt. You can’t pick and choose which one of us to hate.’

My mother still wasn’t stirring, and I was starting to grow desperate. Slits of white pushed against her drooping eyelids. I brushed her hair back and felt for the pulse in her neck. It was weak but steady. ‘I need you to wake up,’ I whispered as tears pooled in the backs of my eyes. ‘I really need you to wake up now.’

Jack covered the safe behind the lino and shut the cabinet. When I looked up, he was right above me. The duffel bag was slung on his shoulder and his eyes were flashing with some new crazy purpose.

‘Just go,’ I said, pushing it out with all the strength I had in me. I was not going to think about the switchblades. I was not going to think about what that list meant. Or where the ruby came from. I was not going to think about how many lies my father had told me.

Jack had the audacity to laugh. ‘We both know I’m not leaving here without you, Soph.’

‘I can’t help you kill the Falcones. Donata won’t—’

Jack barked an incredulous laugh. ‘You don’t really believe Donata expected you to kill anyone, do you?’

I blanched. ‘She said she wanted me to help her.’

‘You don’t even know how to use a gun, let alone kill a man. For Christ’s sake, you’re seventeen years old.’

‘But then how was I supposed to—’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ Jack interrupted, amusement still colouring his tone. ‘You’ve already done it, Soph. You’ve already helped her.’

‘I—’ The words fell away from me. ‘She knew I’d go to them,’ I realized. ‘She wanted me to go to them.’

She played me.

But why? I didn’t get it – I couldn’t grasp the scope of her plan. I was too close to it, and it didn’t make sense. But I knew I had slipped up.

‘Donata is a very intelligent woman,’ Jack said admiringly. ‘You shouldn’t underestimate her.’

My mother was groaning, and I was beginning to realize that the two of us getting out of here together and without Jack was going to be impossible.

As if reading my thoughts, he said, ‘You can’t run, so don’t try.’

‘Why?’ I asked, hearing the childishness in my own voice. ‘Why do I matter so much?’

‘Because you’re family,’ said Jack. ‘And family stick together.’

‘We don’t want to stick with you, Antony, we’re fine by ourselves.’

‘Well,’ he said, still ignoring my use of his real name, and looking past me out the window into the storm-swept parking lot. ‘Donata’s collecting Marinos. She wants you in the fold where she can keep an eye on you. So you know what that means?’

‘What?’

‘It means tough shit.’

We glared at each other as my mother twitched beside me – Don Vincenzo Marino’s eyes mirrored back at each other, shooting mistrust.

The rain thudded relentlessly against the roof. Thunder groaned, rumbling ever closer as the windows rattled in their frames. I could feel my heartbeat in my fingertips. Dread was uncoiling in the pit of my stomach as a new comprehension dawned on me: there was no one left to help us. I had to call the police. I had to take my chances.

‘You should have told me,’ I said. ‘I deserved to know.’

‘I vowed I would tell you if one of us ever came out of hiding.’

‘You are out of hiding.’ Subtly I slid my phone out of my pocket.

‘I tried to tell you at Eden but you wouldn’t listen,’ he said irritably. ‘What does it matter, anyway? You know now. We’ve been running for too long. It’s time to stand up and fight.’

‘I don’t want to fight.’ I unlocked my phone.

Jack’s attention flicked between the parking lot and where I was crouched beside my mother. His eyes narrowed at something outside.

I started to dial, the phone hidden by my side, but Jack whipped around and snatched it from me. He brought his hand down hard across my face. ‘What the fuck are you doing?’ he spat. ‘Calling the police – are you crazy? Do you want to get killed, is that it?’

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