By the time I was halfway downstairs, there was a key turning in the lock of the front door. I almost bit off my tongue as it swung open in front of me, swallowing a curse. Jack stomped inside and I froze with one hand on the banister, the other across my heart.
We stared at each other. Every bone in my body ached to hurl myself at him, wrap my hands around his throat and watch the light drain from his eyes. I hated him, and the heat of my rage felt like it might burst through my skin and rip me apart. Would he take me by force or could I run? I had to think, to focus. I couldn’t mess this up.
Slowly I came towards him, forcing one foot in front of the other, pulling the tendrils of raw fury back into my body and stifling them. I had to compose myself, to squash the hostility long enough to get away from him. And I would do it, even if it destroyed a part of me to do so. I would not let my emotions sell me to Donata Marino. I would not let them keep me from avenging my mother.
Jack’s frame seemed to press outwards against the narrow hallway. There was no space – no place that his shadow didn’t touch. ‘Sophie.’ One word: not quite angry, but stern.
‘Jack.’ Antony, I reminded myself. But no matter what the truth was, he would always be Jack to me. A liar. A coward. The word Antony tasted too bitter in my mouth. My fingers squeezed into my palms until their tips bent back on themselves.
He shut the door behind him. ‘You didn’t answer me.’
I felt my voice vibrating with fear, so I forced it higher, louder. ‘I was upstairs. Can’t you wait, like, two minutes?’
There. That teenage indignation. Jack huffed a sigh and I watched his shoulders dip. He thought this would be easy; he thought I would come around. Idiot. He stepped closer, and it took everything in my power not to attack him. ‘Are you ready to come with me?’
We both knew it wasn’t a request; he was just allowing me the illusion of free will, for old times’ sake.
‘Do I have a choice?’ Surly, but not unbendable. It was a delicate line.
‘No. Either you come or she’ll kill you.’ A sigh, a flicker of the man I used to know. ‘And we’ve lost enough already.’
We’ve. I contemplated lunging at him and clawing his eyes out. I might get one before he wrenched me off him.
‘You’ll have to come now,’ he said.
Focus. I stamped my foot. ‘This is so unfair.’
‘Hurry up and pack a bag. I’ll wait down here.’
I jutted out my chin. ‘Can’t we just stay here?’ The idea of having him anywhere near the last place my mother had laughed and lived made me want to scream, but he would expect some opposition to the move, and if I didn’t dig my heels in, he’d get suspicious and trail me while I packed.
‘We’re going somewhere nicer,’ he said impatiently. ‘Somewhere closer to the trade.’
‘Where?’ I whined.
‘Will you just pack? I’ll tell you later. Libero and Marco are waiting in the car.’
I couldn’t escape. Double crap. At least he hadn’t brought that murderous skeleton near my mother’s house. I didn’t know how much more my wavering restraint could take, and the idea of coming at Donata Marino with a kitchen knife was just too tempting.
‘Fine.’ I trudged back upstairs, blinking back the tears of rage that spilled freely down my face once I was turned away from him.
I hovered in my bedroom, staring out the window as hopelessness wrapped itself around me. My eyes fell on the wooden trellis crawling up the back wall – the last of my mother’s garden projects. Slowly, carefully, the threads of a plan unfolded in my head. I’d have to go out back. It was my only chance – my last chance.
I opened the window in my room and swung my already-packed bag out, angling my arm so that it landed in a bush to the right of the kitchen, away from the window. Then I stuffed an old rucksack with towels and sweatshirts to make it appear full. I stomped around for a while, slamming my feet against the floor above Jack so he’d think I was having a tantrum.
After ten minutes, I came downstairs. He hadn’t moved from the hallway. He stopped scrolling through his phone and registered the bag as I dropped it by his feet, taking care not to be any nearer to him than I had to be. I scooted backwards, arms folded across my chest. ‘There.’
‘Good,’ he said, stowing his phone in his pocket. ‘You’re cooperating. I knew you’d come around. It was all just a horrible accident, Soph. The wrong person died, but don’t worry, we’re going to take another run at those bastards, and this time they won’t get out alive.’
I sneered internally. He obviously didn’t know I was the one who had rescued them. Man, he was such a moron.
I forced a shrug. ‘Whatever. I can’t make rent by myself, and we both know I have nowhere else to go.’
The ghost of a smile flickered across his face, and I caught myself wondering what it would be like to cut it out of him and watch the colour drain from his lips. I smiled too as the image danced in my brain. One day I would find out.
Jack unclasped the front door and lugged my bag over his shoulder. ‘Ready?’ he asked, his tone already lifting.
I stalled. ‘I need to pee.’
His brows lifted. ‘What? Why didn’t you go upstairs?’
‘I was too busy rushing for you!’
‘Fine. Hurry up.’
I locked myself into the bathroom under the stairs and assessed the window. It was too small to fit through; I had overestimated my tininess. Dammit. I ran the tap and cursed loudly enough so he could hear me. Then I shouted through the door, ‘Can you please get me a toilet roll from the cupboard in the upstairs hallway?’
My heart thudded in my chest.
Please please please.
There was a loud, pointed sigh and then the heavy plodding of his feet on the stairs. I eased open the bathroom door, shut it quietly behind me and darted into the kitchen and out the back door. I had seconds at best.
I grabbed my rucksack from where it had landed, and catapulted towards the end of the garden. I threw the bag over the wall and started climbing, my feet scaling the trellis, my hands clawed tight against the concrete. I was halfway over the wall, my feet scrabbling against wood on one side and my fingers clutching stone on the other, when Jack’s voice rang out behind me.
He was running and I was struggling, heaving my body over the wall until it scraped along the top as I slithered over it. And then he was below me, lunging for my foot and wrapping his fingers around my ankle. With a primal shriek, I kicked out, anchoring myself with my hands as I bucked against him. He held firm. With my free hand over the wall I grabbed Luca’s switchblade from my back pocket and flicked it open. Jack yanked me by the ankle. I slipped towards him with the blade outstretched, and slashed it as hard as I could across his face.
He fell backwards, shrieking as blood pumped from his eye and coated his fingers as he held them tight to his face. He lunged blindly for me, but I had re-straddled the wall and was rolling over it, falling away from him.
I landed with a thud on the other side. The drop was high and the fall jolted the wind from my lungs. I re-stashed the blade, ducked and rolled, grabbing my rucksack and stumbling into a small line of trees that hid me as I pressed against the wall that bled into another, larger street of houses. Jack’s screams of agony hung heavy in the air behind me, and I seized the surge of adrenalin they gave me.
I sprinted along an endless row of boxy homes, hopped into a nearby garden and weaved my way behind a squat wooden house with a dilapidated porch. At the back of it I lost myself in an expanse of shrubbery and threw my rucksack over wall after wall, chasing the sun as it sank away from me, until I was too tired to do anything but wedge myself behind a garden shed somewhere along the endless row of houses. I tucked my limbs inside my body, shrank into a ball and waited for the darkness to hide me from Jack and his Marino assassins.
I took out my phone and called Millie.
‘Soph?’ She cleared her throat, waking her voice up. ‘Is everything OK?’
‘What? Why? What’s happened?’
‘Calm down,’ I said quickly, cutting off the freak-out. ‘I’m just living, Mil. I’m living like you told me to.’
Panic vibrated in her voice. ‘Soph, you’re freaking me out. What are you talking about? I didn’t mean “leave town” when I said that, I meant “get up and go for lunch with me” or something. This is definitely not what I meant.’
‘I know.’ I smiled against my phone. ‘I’m not going off on some big soul-searching adventure.’
‘Oh,’ she said, relief colouring her tone. ‘I thought you were about to ditch me for the pyramids or the Grand Canyon or something.’
‘Jack’s back in Cedar Hill.’
She sucked in a sharp inhale. ‘Shit.’
‘Yeah,’ I concurred. ‘I’m going somewhere he can’t get to me … until I want him to.’
‘What exactly does that mean?’
I tempered my response. There were some things she would understand, and some things she definitely wouldn’t, and the truth of what I was planning was in the latter category. ‘It means I’m going to lie low, just until the danger dies down.’
‘Then lie low here, Soph. You know you’re always welcome at mine …’
I had to smile, because we both knew it wouldn’t work, and still she had offered because that was the kind of person she was. Unafraid. Loyal. ‘You really are an amazing friend, Mil.’
‘So are you,’ she shot back.
‘I think you’re definitely winning in the friendship stakes right now.’
Her laugh tinkled down the line. ‘You’ve had your moments too, Gracewell.’
Gracewell. I bristled. That word. That lie.
It stood for nothing.
‘We’ll deal with this together,’ she said, filling up the silence and pulling me from the impending spiral of rage and disappointment I was becoming all too used to.
I ignored her unfailing optimism, a part of me wishing I could believe it. ‘I think the whole point of being a good friend is not putting your friend or her family in danger when you don’t have to.’
‘I’ll be fine.’ She didn’t sound sure, but I didn’t need her to be, because I was sure about two things now: Jack was incredibly angry, and he was also incredibly dangerous. That made him unpredictable. And if Millie sheltered me, she’d be in his firing line too, and I would never let that happen.
‘I’m not taking that chance,’ I said firmly. ‘And you know that.’
‘Where are you going to go? What are you going to do? Where are you now? Did Jack—?’
‘Mil,’ I interrupted. ‘I have a plan, don’t worry. I promise I’ll fill you in as soon as I can, OK?’
‘OK,’ she relented after a short silence, her voice turning sceptical. ‘But whatever happens, just don’t leave me behind.’
Even the thought of it made my chest seize up. ‘Never.’
‘Because I cannot do senior year without you. It’ll break my spirit, Soph. It’ll suck the soul out of me.’
‘I know,’ I said, soothing her through a bubbling laugh. Her drama was the only kind I would freely welcome into my life. ‘Don’t worry,’ I teased. ‘I’ll go into the darkness with you.’
‘Good,’ she said, matching my tone. ‘Because you’re my light.’
‘You’re so sappy.’
‘You love it.’
‘I know.’
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
THE BEGINNING
I waited on the doorstep at Evelina, counting the heartbeats it took for the door to open. Nineteen.
‘Sophie.’ Luca stepped out of the darkness.
‘I was hoping it would be you.’
He smirked. ‘What can I say? I am most people’s favourite.’
I bit back the retort I would have offered him under normal circumstances – Can your entire ego really fit in this house? Instead, I offered him the apology I owed him. ‘Listen, I didn’t mean any of that stuff I said to you in my room. I was just so sad and panicked and angry about everything. And, well, you were there and I couldn’t stop everything from bursting out of—’
‘Sophie.’ Luca raised his hand, frowning. ‘Please don’t apologize for the way your grief chose to be felt that night.’
‘But I was so rude.’
‘Well, you usually are rude, so I’m used to it.’
I shot him a withering glance and he swallowed it up with a grin. I’d forgotten how disarming his smile could be. It was his greatest weapon.
‘Jack came back for me,’ I said.
His expression darkened. He ran his gaze along my frame appraisingly. ‘Did he hurt you?’
‘No, but I think I cut his eye out with your switchblade.’
His eyebrows disappeared under black unruly strands of hair. ‘Is that right?’
The reason for my visit rested between us. He knew what it was, but I knew I had to say it. I had to make it real in order to move forward. And he had to hear it.
‘I’m on my own now,’ I said quietly. The realization was a sting, and saying it aloud seemed to take all my energy with it. ‘For the first time, I’m really, truly on my own.’
Luca came a little closer, like he was trying to enclose us in a bubble where the badness couldn’t reach me. We could have been anywhere in the world just then, because I could only see him. ‘Do you want to stay here?’ he asked. ‘With us?’
This was it – the first step. I was turning away from the sun and facing my destiny. I had to say the words. I had to make them real.
Unflinching, unblinking, I said, ‘If you let me stay, I’ll help you kill them.’
He gaped at me. ‘Is that a joke?’
‘I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.’
‘Marino,’ he said, his voice twisting. ‘That’s dark.’
I held his stare, ice-blue and blazing. For the first time ever I had a purpose edged with steel and fervour. I knew what I had to do. I had made my choice. The path was dark, but there was no going back.
This was my world. It had always been my world. It was time to stop fighting it and start living in it.
With drops of my uncle’s blood still staining my fingertips, I stood on the threshold to the criminal underworld, facing the Falcone underboss, and sealed my destiny.
‘I don’t want to be a Marino, Luca.’
He stepped backwards into the foyer, and I followed him inside.
‘OK,’ he said, his eyes still locked on mine. ‘Then be something else.’
We stood facing each other on top of the Falcone crest as a strange new warmth bloomed in my chest.
‘Any suggestions?’ I asked.
‘I can think of one.’
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Mom, this book is for you. Thank you for the Tooth Fairy letters, for the library visits, for the magical trips and the musicals. Thank you for dressing me up in a little velvet dress and bringing me to Swan Lake when I was three years old. I know you got a lot of strange looks from people for bringing a child as your date, but I remember every second of it. Thank you for always encouraging me to be creative, to follow my dreams and to embrace the zanier parts of life.
Dad, you are one of the zanier parts of my life. Thank you for being kind and intelligent, and funny and weird as hell, all at once. Thank you for teaching me how to live with humour and sensitivity, and to laugh often. I think I’ve taken all those years of your ridiculous (but impressive) accents and your (frankly worrying) preoccupation with sweets, and rolled them into these books. You really are the best dad in the world, and now it’s in print, so that means it’s true!
Colm and Conor, you are my favourites. Thank you for being so kind and supportive and fun throughout this journey. Colm, you are the voice of reason in my life, unerringly positive and generous with your time and advic
e, and I thank you for that. Conor, you’re hilarious and really strange, but in a good way. We both know you’re going to end up in one of my books one day, so I look forward to a time when we can toast to that (and also to you not suing me). You are the best brothers I could ever ask for: the perfect combination of humour, intelligence, kindness … and just a dash of shadiness.
To my agent, Claire Wilson, thank you for always being in my corner, and for keeping the excitement and enthusiasm alive every step of the way. It comes as no surprise to me that you have acquired an entire coven of avid supporters. Thank you also to Lexie, and to everyone at Rogers, Coleridge & White, for championing this series and helping to spread the mafia love!
I don’t know much about covens, but I have an inkling that Claire’s Coven is one of the best out there. Thank you all for the inspiration, friendship and general brilliance, particularly my Stag Sisters Alice Oseman, Lauren James, Melinda Salisbury, Sara Barnard and the beautifully kind Alexia Casale and the hilarious Gary Meehan.
To everyone at Chicken House, I will be forever grateful to you for offering such a warm home to Sophie and her journey, and for welcoming this kooky author along with her! Barry Cunningham, you jumped right out of my college thesis and were even more magical in person. Thank you for making my dream come true! Rachel L and Kesia, the most formidable editing team, thank you for reading my first draft, discussing it, and then coming back to me with my favourite response: ‘but then, what if THIS CRAZY THING happened?!?!’ No idea is too grand or intimidating with you both on my side! And, more importantly, on Sophie’s side! Rachel H, Jazz, Laura M and Laura S, thank you a thousand times for your unwavering enthusiasm and support for these books. And for putting up with my countless emails – encompassing everything from types of font to shipping allegiances in The Vampire Diaries – with such patience and kindness!
This book is as much about friendship as it is about love. I wouldn’t have had the confidence to start writing or the drive to keep going without the incredible friends in my life – my ‘Millies’, and the best platonic romances I’ve ever had! Jess, thank you for being both sister and friend to me. I don’t know what I’d do without you in my life – I wouldn’t get tagged in all those raccoon videos, but I know I’d be a lot less happier than I am. Katie, twenty years and you’re still not rid of me yet! Ha! Thank you for being the kind of friend who calls me up just so I can listen to you cry and scream while you try to kill a daddy-long-legs in your room. I treasure that trauma, almost as much as I treasure you. Susan, you are hilarious – a real burst of colour and joy. What would I do without those voice messages where you just meow at me over and over again? Don’t ever change. EVER. Becky, expert sailor, ballroom dancer, runner, yoga-doer-person, and probably something else random by the time this gets published, I’m so glad we had that ‘sister-sister’ moment at summer camp all those years ago. You bring so much adventure and positivity to my life. Sheila, there is so much I could write here about our friendship, but a lot that I probably shouldn’t … What can I say? I’m not superstitious, but I am a little stitious. I’ll never forget the day we locked eyes over that science table, and I thought to myself, ‘That girl looks like a pixie,’ and directly following that, ‘She’s hilarious. I’m going to force her to be my friend.’
Inferno (Blood for Blood #2) Page 30
