I tried not to flinch.
Millie arched an eyebrow. ‘You mean to say a family of hot-tempered Mafia people are all cosying up with each other on a Saturday night to sit down and watch a movie about a family of hot-tempered Mafia people … ? Is that really what you’re telling me?’
Well, there was nothing else for it now.
I turned my whole face towards her, maintained full eye contact and said, ‘Yes, Millie. That is exactly what I’m telling you.’
Hold the stare. Don’t look away. Sell it. Sell it … Three, two, one …
‘Huh.’ Millie scrunched her nose at me. ‘Well. That is just … honestly? That is just weird.’
I conjured the whisper of a smile. ‘Tell me about it.’
‘Sunday, then?’
‘Sure. Sunday.’
I tried not to imagine how I would feel on Sunday. I tried not to think very much at all, in case my stomach wound up eating itself from nerves.
Millie skipped down the steps and flounced into the afternoon, leaving me staring at her long dark ponytail as it bobbed back and forth.
I made my way towards the black SUV, threw my bag in the trunk and slid into the back seat, startling at the backs of two Falcone heads instead of one.
‘Hey?’ I said, more question than greeting. ‘Why are there two of you here?’
Nic and Dom turned around at the same time, their lips curving in matching smiles. ‘Hey,’ they chorused, the sound raising the hairs on my arms.
‘There’s been a slight change of itinerary,’ Nic said.
Dom started the engine. ‘I hope you didn’t make plans for tonight,’ he threw over his shoulder. ‘Because we’re going on a little killing spree.’
I reeled backwards, my head hitting the seat with a soft thump. ‘It’s tonight? I thought it was tomorrow?’
Nic shook his head, the glee still firmly plastered across his face. ‘Paulie’s been scouting the location. Libero is coming in tonight instead.’
‘So we’re going now?’
‘Are you ready?’ He flashed his teeth at me again, the smile turning wolfish.
No. No! No!
‘Where’s Luca?’ I asked, suddenly feeling diminished in this big half-empty car. ‘I thought he was supposed to come too?’
‘He’s working on the other side of the city tonight.’ He waved his hand at an imaginary Luca in the faraway distance. ‘And besides, it won’t take that many of us. Libero is barely a match for Gino.’
I blinked at him dumbly, trying to assimilate the news.
We whirred past Cedar Hill High, my classmates streaking into scarfed blurs behind me. They were going home to get ready for weekend parties, or coffee dates or dinner with their parents, soccer practice or movies or aimless walks along Main Street … and I was going somewhere very far away. I scooted forward, conscious of how alone I was in the back seat.
‘Soph.’ Nic’s voice cut in. Before I even realized it, he had twisted around in his seat and was holding my hand on top of the armrest, his thumb tracing circles on my skin. ‘You look pale. Are you feeling OK?’
I tried to disengage my thoughts, to use my mouth to talk, to box up my feelings and squish them down, down, down. ‘I’m fine,’ I said, licking my dry lips. ‘Let’s do this.’
He squeezed my hand, and I squeezed back, before slipping it back into my lap, away from the intentions written so clearly on his face.
‘Yeah!’ whooped Dom. ‘Let’s do this!’
He cranked the radio up until the car was vibrating, and then he crushed his foot on the gas and we sped out of Cedar Hill, both boys singing and laughing at the tops of their lungs, while I cowered in the back seat trying to fight the urge to be sick out the window.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
SICILIAN KISS
It was past sundown by the time we arrived in the city. We pulled into a run-down parking lot three buildings away from The Sicilian Kiss, a dive bar often frequented by members of the Marino family. It looked deserted as we drove past it – boarded-up windows, flaking black paint on the door, and a sign that read: Entrance By Private Admission Only.
When we reached the car lot, Dom cut the engine, rolled his seat back and propped his feet on the dashboard. I sat forward and stuck my head between the brothers. ‘Now what?’
Nic turned around so suddenly, I didn’t have time to back up. Our noses were inches from each other as he said, ‘We wait for Paulie’s signal. He’s got someone on the inside. When Libero comes to make the deal, we’ll move in.’
‘We’ll disarm him and shoot his legs out,’ added Dom airily. ‘Then you can finish him off.’
I massaged my temples, trying not to imagine the scene before it happened. It all seemed way too straightforward. Violent, but simple. Too simple. ‘And we’re really going to get away with this?’
‘Easily,’ said Nic, confidence trilling in his voice.
Dom glanced at me over his shoulder. ‘Relax,’ he said. ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’
Nic smirked at Dom. ‘She’ll be making a ghost tonight.’
I just stared between them, screwing my face up. ‘I don’t know how you guys can be so … jokey about all of this!’
‘Lighten up, Sophie,’ said Dom. ‘You’re supposed to kill Libero, not the mood.’
Nic snorted, then caught sight of my scowl and glanced at me apologetically. ‘It’s just first-time jitters,’ he said, gently. ‘Don’t try and talk yourself out of it. Don’t psyche yourself out. Libero Marino is a slimeball. I told you that, remember? He oversees the sex trade in the east of the city, he beats his girlfriends – he put one of them in a coma two years ago. He split Luca’s lip open and tried to kill him when they were still teenagers. He’s not a good guy, OK? He deserves this.’
I swirled the facts around in my head. It’s not like I thought he was a good guy already, but I hadn’t expected him to be so hateable. It was almost too easy, that he would be the perfect villain. It was easy to hate him. I tried to harness that feeling. I would need it. I would need nothing but that burning, festering hatred. A shred of empathy and it would all go to hell.
‘This is for your mother, remember?’ Nic added, his gaze boring into mine. ‘This is for what they took from you.’
Yes. He was right. That was why I was here. I remembered the diner, the fire, the heat … the smoke. This was for her.
Nic turned on some music on his phone, and closed his eyes, humming under his breath. I looked through the windscreen, at messy graffiti and overflowing dumpsters. Somewhere close by, The Sicilian Kiss was awaiting our arrival, and Libero Marino was walking to his demise. I tried to concentrate on the music, letting the melody sweep me into a different place.
Time crawled.
And then …